Chapter Sixty-Three: Not as Smoothly As We Planned

"Right where I left you," said Nathan with satisfaction. He dropped his briefcase on the floor, staring at where she was lying, tangled in their sheets.

"I called Brooke. I did some painting. Not much else," she admitted, her hand stroking her belly, which had recently begun to grow.

"I'm not complaining," he said, dropping onto the bed and propping himself on top of her.

"And I went out. To City Hall," she said.

"Why?"

"To change my name," she said.

"Really? I always liked Haley," he said. Her hand, which had been sliding through his short hair, caressing his neck, suddenly pinched.

"Idiot. To Scott," she said uncomfortably. As he leaned down to kiss her, she wrapped one leg around him.

"Haley…"

"No, wait, stop. I need cash for tomorrow and the banks are closed, and I don't want to have to find a sugar daddy," she said.

"I don't want you to, either. In my pocket," he instructed her. He frowned. When he forced himself to think of it, the only reason she'd come to him was for his money. Really there marriage was shameless gold digging, legalized prostitution.

Haley reached down to pull his wallet out of his pocket, stroking him briefly as she did so.

His heart lurched as she opened it and dropped the contents on the bed beside her. Out of it fell money, a spare credit card. And one item besides.

She sorted the money she'd need into a pile and prepared to put the rest back into the wallet. Nathan held his breath while her fingers sought a small, worn piece of paper.

"What's this?" she asked in amusement, before turning it over. Both of them studied it for a moment: Haley was featured prominently in the middle, her arms around Peyton and Brooke, all at age sixteen.

"You've carried this around for two years?" she asked weakly. The force she applied to her hands while she pushed him off of her wasn't enough, but he rolled off anyways.

"Haley…"

"You said you'd carry it around so I'd know you'd never let go. For God's sake Nathan, I let go a year and a half ago. This isn't… We aren't…" He attempted to put his hands on her shoulders to draw her in to him again, but she struggled violently at him until he released her.

"I did. But now…"

"You're still in love with me, aren't you? You've always loved me. You spent two years brooding about me while I was with Seamus. You did this to get me with you. You tricked me. You knew I needed it. You lied to me. God, and I fell for it. How could I be so stupid? I always knew you loved me. It always was your Achilles heel. What kind of person thinks of this kind of thing, Nathan? What kind of person sees the woman they love after two years, asking for help, and hoodwinks her into a way that she has to be with you, whether she likes it or not?" demanded Haley.

"I'm sorry."

"But you know Nathan, you don't love me. You couldn't possibly. Get out," she said, spitting out the last words bitterly.

"This is my house," he said.

"Fine. Then I'll leave. But wait, that would go against your plans? Wouldn't it?" she asked. As she made to rip the photograph, he tore it from her hands and stuffed it back into his wallet before getting off the bed and walking out.

The next day at his desk, Nathan groaned and attempted to block out the image of Haley, her face angry at his betrayal. He hadn't done anything. He'd only ever committed the crime of loving her unto infinity. Like it was his fault.

His traitorous mind flashed to the image of her eighteen year old self at the country club, the first day he'd seen her. The first day he'd known. Then to the image of her that day in the café, amidst their perfect first kiss. Finally to her half naked self, lying in his hotel bed the day he'd lost her love for him forever.

"Mr. Scott? Is something wrong?" asked his new secretary nervously. He looked up at her and pasted on a smile.

"Nothing's wrong. Do you have something for me?" he asked. She smiled.

"The numbers for the paper you bought last month. It's doing well. And your wife is here," she said.

"Perfect," he muttered.

"Did something happen?" she asked in concern. Nathan looked up at her. Her name was Deb Lee. He'd hired her two weeks previously. She was blonde, and fairly attractive for someone his mother's age. In addition to this, she already gave off vibes of being maternal.

"No. Send her up. And tell her she doesn't have to wait at the desk from now on, she can come up without waiting," he said.

"I have a son your age. He confused me just as much," she said before she nodded in her confusion and left the office.

Nathan leaned back and stared at Haley as she entered. His wife was wearing jeans and a thin sweater that scooped down to give him a hint of cleavage.

"Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. I mean, people fall in love all the time. It's pretty commonplace. Lying about it is pretty bad, but I can let that slip," she said.

"What?" he said in confusion. Somehow he'd expected it to affect his wife, the knowledge that he loved her, like it had the previous night.

"It's no biggie. Like I said, love happens everyday. You know what doesn't happen everyday? Lasting love. People still being in love when they're old and wrinkly and blue haired. That's what we're missing Nathan," she said coolly.

"Haley, what made you so cold?" he asked. She looked up, her large brown eyes meeting his.

"What do you think, Nathan? You did," she said.

"I'm going to love you forever," he promised her. She rolled her eyes.

"We'll talk in thirty years," she said.

"Yes, we will. And on that day I'll love you as much as I do now. I know that, Haley. When I tell you I love you, it's not to flatter your vanity, or keep you around for just a little bit longer. It's because I love you. You've never really accepted this, and it's about time you did," he said. As he'd done the first time he'd told her he loved her, Nathan grasped her by the shoulders. Haley gasped in surprise as he pulled her roughly to him and kissed her passionately.

As she'd somehow managed to do the first time she'd kissed him, Haley broke away. Touching her lips with her fingers, remembering the brief heat of his lips.

"I can't. Not right now. I have to think," she said. Her hand fell to her stomach.

"Okay." His voice was quiet and submissive. She turned to leave but paused at the door, her hand on its frame.

"But don't worry," she said. They met eyes, and he made a half step toward her before her eyes stopped him.

"I'm still your girl." Haley tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "Nothing's about to change that."