"Brooke!" I heard Martha call me from the backyard. I opened the door and I saw that she was heading toward the old red pickup that Clark used to drive. Normally I avoided thinking about him, about the person who used to be my friend, the same person that I hadn't known anything for a long time.

Why was I trying not to think about him?

Easy.

It hurt me.

Thinking of Clark hurt so much. Especially since I hadn't seen him for the last seven years. The last time I'd seen him was on the night of my nineteenth birthday, when he left town, disappearing and leaving me alone in the middle of a cornfield.

I remember thinking at first that he was playing a bad joke on me, but the next day, when I realized he was truly gone, the pain was devastating.

***Flashback***

"We've already spoken about this a million of times. You don't understand it, Brooke." Clark said calmly.

"What I do not understand?" I replied to him.

"You don't understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong anywhere. What it is to live and grow up without knowing who you really are."

We had had the same conversation a hundred times, and just like the first time, his words bothered me.

"I do know who you are" I took a step in his direction. "You're Clark Kent, the smartest and most reserved guy in town. This is your home, and of course you belong here, you belong to this town, to your family and… to me. You belong to me." I ended with a trembling voice.

I don't know why I said the last part. Probably because that's how I felt it for a long time. I was deeply in love with the farm boy. I had always dreamed of growing up and leaving Smallville to move to Metropolis, what I most wanted now was for the person in front of me to stay in this small town with me.

"Brooke, please don't say those things." he murmured pleadingly.

"Why?"

"Because it confuses me."

"Me too." I agreed.

I focused on the gravel under my feet. My instincts told me that no matter what I said, Clark was going to leave me anyway that night. I didn't realize that I was crying until he caught my chin and gently lifted my face.

"Don't cry, please." he begged as he wiped away a tear with his thumb. He cupped my face and stared at me.

"Don't go." I sobbed putting my hands on his.

Clark closed his eyes and rested his forehead on mine.

"I have to, you know better than anyone." he said.

I shook my head. Clark hugged me and I buried my face in his chest. I cried for a while, and he was there, holding me back.

"Shh, please Brooke, don't cry anymore." as he spoke he touched my back gently. My heart jumped so hard I was sure he had noticed it. "Brooke, I need you to promise me one thing."

I shrugged without turning away and still hugging him, so he knew he was listening.

"I want you to take care of yourself, and I want you to be free and happy" he whispered.

It took me a moment to understand that this was it, that the boy I was in love with was saying goodbye to me. I had a million things to say to him, and it seemed that he had already told me everything.

"Why do I have to promise you that?" I asked, pulling away from his body. "If you really cared about me you wouldn't leave, Kent."

"Kent?" Clark looked at me confused. It was the first time that I used his last name to refer to him.

"Yeah, Kent." I repeated. "If you leave, for me you will stop being Clark, because you'll have broken my heart. And the Clark I know would never do that."

"Brooke, please, don't make it more difficult for me."

I looked into his deep blue eyes and I could see the enormous suffering behind them. Clark had always been my support and deep down I knew that, even if my heart broke into a thousand irreparable pieces, what he needed from me now was the same. I have to support him. So I gave up.

"Where are you going?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to keep in touch?"

"I'll try."

"Are you going to forget me?" my voice broke when I asked that question.

"I could never forget you." he assured me firmly. "Are you going to forget me?"

"I couldn't either." I muttered defeat.

"May I give you one more hug before I go?" he asked quietly.

Without answering, I was the one who closed the distance between us and hugged his waist. I hid my face in his chest and he rested his head on mine.

"I'm going to miss this." he spoke against my hair.

"Me too."

"Take care, Brooke." That was all he said when he released me.

Three words. I observed him as he turned around and walked towards the road that linked my house with his. As Clark walked away without looking back, something moved inside me and then, I started running.

"Clark! Wait!" I screamed.

He stopped and turned to face me.

When I was close, I jumped and he caught me with his muscular arms, as if he could anticipate my actions. I wrapped my hands behind his neck and without giving him time to react, I kissed him. I kissed him like I had never kissed anyone, holding him against me and releasing my feelings. When I realized that he wasn't kissing me back, I pulled back slightly regretfully. Without opening his eyes and keeping his hands on my waist, Clark carefully placed me on the floor.

"Brooke." my name escaped from his lips in a whisper.

"Clark." I replied softly.

He opened his eyes.

"Brooke" he approached me slowly. "Brooke" he repeated my name making me really want to kiss him again. Our lips were two centimeters away.

"Clark, I'm sorry, I shouldn't..." I couldn't finish the sentence because this time, it was he who kissed me. He pulled me into his arms and gave me a soft and sweet kiss. A kiss that was both, beginning and farewell. His tongue entered into my mouth and I almost melted. When he separated, he smiled at me with his perfect smile and I held my breath without knowing what to say or where that left us.

"I'm glad you did it. I would never have dared to kiss you." Clark suddenly seemed very happy.

I smiled back at him back.

"Clark I lov..." his huge hand covered my mouth and his expression turned dark.

"Don't say it, Brooke." he implored. "Because if I hear you say it, I won't be able to leave."

I nodded, noticing the tears returning to my eyes. After all, Clark was going to leave anyway. What did I expect? He wasn't going to stay for one kiss.

He removed his hand from my mouth and observed me for a few seconds with bright eyes. Without saying anything else, he turned away and ran, disappearing in the middle of the night, before I could say goodbye.

***End of flashback***

"Brooke!" I came back to reality when Martha called me again. "I'm going to Andy's for a moment, because they need a bit of help with tomorrow's preparations!"

"Okay!" I yelled from the porch.

"Will you manage the rest of the recipe by yourself?"

"Of course, don't worry about it."

"Thanks, honey." she waved goodbye and got into the truck.

When Martha left, I went back into the house. That day I couldn't resist and I stopped to look at the old photograph hanging on the wall, in which Clark and I were smiling at graduation, just a few months before he left. I touched his face with my index finger and wondered if I would see him again.

Annoyed with myself, I returned to the kitchen. I was used to live without him, and letting my mind wander through the memories only brought me suffering.

I read the recipe aloud from the book that Martha had left open for me, and I started making the muffins that Jamie, my sister, needed to sell on her last day of high school.

I was so focused that I lost the track of time. As soon as I was done mixing the ingredients, I poured the mixture into the pan and put it in the oven. I sat down. I was really tired. I rested my arms on the table and hid my head inside. I closed my eyes and I tried to blank my mind, like I'd learned to do in yoga. After a while, I heard the front door open.

"Martha, I'm sorry. I have done what I could, but I think that pastry is not my thing." I spoke with my forehead resting on the table.

I raised my head when she didn't answer me back and I was in shock, because in front of me stood a changed and imposing Clark Kent.

It wasn't possible.

I blinked a couple of times, but when I opened my eyes again, Clark was still there. He seemed just as shocked as I was. He was standing next to the door, even taller than the last time I'd seen him. He had tousled hair and a bad trimmed beard that hid part of his face. He was wearing an old gray t-shirt and on top of it a shirt, also gray, with a couple of buttons open. He had a large backpack hanging from his shoulder.

The tears that were accumulating in my eyes made it difficult for me to continue studying him.

"Hello, Brooke." was all he said to break the silence.

I got up out of the chair. His voice sounded deeper than I remembered.

Seriously? He hadn't seen me for seven years and that was all he had to say?

He placed his backpack on the ground without stopping to look at me. I realized then, that his eyes welled up as he held back his tears.

"You look good." he added, giving me a wide smile. Automatically I backed up, hitting the counter.

The smile froze on his face and turned into a weird grimace. I grabbed my braid and twisted it, something that I did whenever I felt nervous.

"Brooke, are you..." before he could ended talking, the oven began to beep.

I thanked the universe for the distraction, bent down and opened the oven's door so I could pull out the pan. I had done it so fast and I was so nervous that I forgot to wear the oven mitts. I screamed when I burned my skin and I dropped the pan. Before the muffins landed on the floor, I already had Clark by my side.

When he touched my hand to examine it I felt dazed by the warmth of his skin. He gently pushed me toward the table and helped me sit down.

"I'm going to put ice in your hand so it doesn't get inflamed." he talked quietly while looking me in the eye.

Without saying anything else, he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. He wrapped it in a cloth and placed it gently on my bruised skin. At that moment, when I felt the cold of the ice, I was aware that everything was real. Clark was really here, and then the tears that were gathering behind my eyes suddenly burst out.

"Brooke, relax. It is a superficial burn, you'll be fine." he assured, assuming I was crying from the burn.

The last thing I'd imagined was to have Clark kneel in front of me, holding my hand as his life depended on it. In my dreams, Clark never came back, and I always ran to catch him, but never made it.

He grabbed a tissue out of his pocket and carefully wiped my tears away. That reminded me of when we were 16 and I fell off my bike. Before I could process what happened to me, I already had Clark by my side, helping me to get up.

The situation was similar and at the same time so different from then. Because at that time, I felt Clark closer than ever, and now, even though I had him in front of me, I felt him so far away that it seemed we were from different planets.

"Clark? Son, is that you?" Martha's voice echoed somewhere.

I hadn't realized that she came back. I was too shocked to notice anything other than Clark's presence.

He gave me a sweet look before taking my free hand to replace his, holding the ice against my skin.

"Of course it's me, mom." he got up and opened his arms to hug his mother.

"You didn't tell me that you were coming." Martha reproached, still hugging him. "I would have cooked your favorite meal."

Clark chuckled.

When they separated, Martha saw the kitchen, with the oven open, the muffins on the floor and with me in tears.

"Honey, are you okay?" Martha asked me.

"She burned her hand when she opened the oven." Clark said.

"Come with me." she said to me. "I have a great lotion for burns."

Martha guided me to the bathroom and I once again, I felt that she was the mother that I had never had.

When we returned to the kitchen, everything was clean. Clark was standing by the door and looked at me with such intensity that I had to turn my face away.

"Brooke, what do you think about we make the muffins again?" Martha asked with a smile. "Clark, in the meantime can bring us both up to date, right, honey?" she observed her son.

I shook my head. The last thing that I needed at the time was to know what Clark had been up to in those seven years since I had seen him.

"Don't worry Martha, I'll buy something." I murmured quickly."I want to rest."

Martha nodded without complaint, probably because she knew me very well, and surely because the last time she had seen me this upset was when her son had left.

"Clark, can you drive Brooke to her house?"

"It isn't necessary, Martha" I didn't give Clark the chance to speak. "I prefer to walk." I spoke in a rush as I hurried to the door. "Goodbye." I passed next to Clark without looking at him.

I didn't even go to my van that was parked next to the Kent's barn. My hand hurt enough that I didn't want to drive. I would come back for it when I was calmer.

I was surprised at how quickly I got home, while I was walking I could stop to think about the moment with Clark, over and over again.

When I got home, I went into the bathroom, maybe a shower would help me clear my head. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I was far away from the good aspect with which I'd left home that morning. My braid had practically come off me and my blonde hair was stained with chocolate. The mascara had smeared slightly and I looked like a raccoon. And besides, my dress was stained with egg and flour. That was how I looked on the outside, on the inside it was much worse.

I had fantasized about my reunion with Clark so many times. And I'd imagined it in a million different ways. Sometimes I kissed him, sometimes I hugged him, but I never imagined that in reality what would happen was that I wouldn't even have the courage to speak, and that in addition I would burn my hand in the process.

I took a deep breath.

The prodigal son had returned to Smallville.