Chapter Two: This Darkness
Author's note: There is one thing - actually, a couple of things, that I should probably make clear. First of all, this story is told mainly in flashbacks, not all of which are chronological order. Please try to take notes of the dates, they'll make everything much less confusing.
December 3rd, 2020, Tree Hill High School, Tree Hill North Carolina
Nathan paused before entering his calculus class. He hated substituting. It was demeaning, as if his own job didn't fulfill enough hours or enough influence to count as a real job. It was why he was constantly shunted between the rest of the grades, supervising them, pretending he cared whether or not they did their work.
He glanced around the classroom in desdain. It hadn't changed since his high school days. The same scratched wooden desks, the same plastic blue chair. The same round globe, which still included the USSR and Constantinople. He paused at a window and looked down at the frame. Apparently, they hadn't been painted in ten years. His eyes grazed the initails he knew he'd find: HJ + NS. He realized with a jolt that they'd made out in this classroom, on the table by the window. He wondered how many others had. But he didn't really care.
He thought back to the day he'd envisioned during basketball practise. Their wedding. June of 2006. It had been the best day of his life. Nothing had ever come close. He could still smell the flowers. He could still envision her in front of him, her dress swirling around her, spinning carelessly. It was the image of her that he'd carry to his grave.
He loved her. He always would. But for so many reasons, they could never again be together. He would have to accept substites for the rest of his life.
The only thing he had were his memories. Some were better than others.
October 16th 2007, The Scott Residence, Tree Hill North Carolina
"Nathan, I can't do this anymore. It's just too hard," she said in frustration. He folded his arms and leaned against the door.
"What do you want me to do, beg you to stay?" he asked coolly.
"You know, once you would have. A long time ago, you'd have done anything you could to keep me with you," she said tragically.
"Maybe."
"This wasn't supposed to be so hard, Nathan. Why isn't it enough? Why isn't that I love you enough for you?" she pleaded.
"It's not enough for you, Haley. You keep drifting away," he accused.
"Maybe it was because I was sure I could count on you to pull me back to shore," she suggested.
"Maybe I forgot how."
"Nathan, I need you to love me. I need to remember how to love you. Can't you remind you? Why, Nathan? Can't you show me? You always could," she said. He scoffed.
"Do you really think that's going to work? Do you really think that having angry makeup sex will cure us?" he asked.
"No. Because I don't know what's wrong with us," she said simply.
He stared at her for a second. At the dark shadows under her brown eyes, at the pale, almost pallid state of her once clear, shining face. Her hair, now dyed blonde, tied tightly into a knot at the back of her head. Her shirt, black and simple, contrasted eerily with her almost white skin.
He remembered his memories of Haley, with her blushes and laughter. Had he done this to her?
With the horror of this thought, he crossed the room in three strides and crushed her tiny body in to his arms and hugged her tightly. She gasped as if in releif and clung to him, her husband, her lover, her soulmate.
"We'll see it through, Hales," he promised, kissing her hair.
"We have to." She tilted her head back so their eyes met, and leaned up to kiss him. He responded feverishly and pulled her roughly up in to his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, relishing the feel of his ardent touch.
Afterwards, he pulled the covers over his shoulders and turned away from her to face the wall. He couldn't help but remember the simpler times. He couldn't help but long for them. He remembered their first time. The first time for both of them. They'd been too young according to many, but it had been so right. Awkward, fumbling and slightly painful, but so right. He'd never regretted the opportunity to be so close to her, to feel her body against his.
He managed to eventually doze off. He woke up hours later, surprised to be lacking her warm presence in the bed. Sitting up in a panic, he threw a dressing gown over his pajama pants and ran out into the hall.
His heart rate calmed. She was on the small porch in the front of the house, swinging on the porch swing, pushing it slowly with her bare foot. He went out to sit beside her.
"That didn't fix anything," she said. He nodded slowly.
"I'm getting that impression."
"I don't know what it means."
"Does it mean you won't leave?" asked Nathan, looking sideways at her, trying to make out her face in the dark.
"No."
"Where would you go, Haley? We've spent our lives together. We graduated last year. We never bothered to make bright futures for ourselves, I think we just figured that this would be enough."
"I'll think of something," she said.
"I can't just talk about this as if we're talking about the weather. Would it be worth it to you? To leave forever, after only a year? Would it make you happy?"
"I don't know if I can stay with you, Nathan. You've changed so much. You're so cold to me. I don't know if you can still even let me in like you used to," she said. In the cold air, when she breathed out, he could see her breath.
"I'm the same person. You've changed too," he reminded her.
"Do you still love me?" she asked. She leaned in her head into his shoulder and seemed reassured when he pressed his lips to her hair.
They sat in silence. Their arms slowly wound around each other, comforted by their familiar forms. Nathan wondered if they could be so familiar, and at the same time so intense and passionate. He wondered if the two feelings could coexist.
"I'd go to New York. I have a friend who I could stay with, from school, and she'd help me find a job. Who knows. I might even try to get gigs," she said.
"I could..."
"No, you couldn't. I think I have to do some things alone," she said.
"But you don't want to."
"Yeah. I don't think I want to leave you, either."
Nathan returned quickly home from work the next evening, fairly certain that he'd managed once again to avoid her departure. He wondered when he could make the next step, and actively work at making things work between them again.
"Haley?"
She looked up guiltily when he came up the driveway to find her sister Taylor's car parked in the driveway, several suitcases loaded in to the trunk. Taylor paused at the door of the house and moved backward, away from the inevitable scene.
"Where are you going? We're going to work things out," he said quickly.
"I don't think we can, Nathan. We've got to stop holding on to the past."
"But that's why we got married. To hold on," he said.
"Not like this. I feel so desperate, Nathan. I can't live like that." This she said with a tone of finality. He wished he could reach for her, delay her a little bit longer, prolong their painful existence.
"You don't believe that."
"I don't know what I believe," said Haley. The sun caught her left hand, and he noticed that she was still wearing her ring. She dropped her hand, but did not twist it off or return it to him.
Taylor slowly walked out of the house and climbed into the driver's seat, avoiding making contact with her brother-in-law. Haley slowly walked toward the car and gripped the handle until her knuckles turned white. Nathan stared at her, not willing himself to move toward her.
With shaking hands, she pulled open the door and stepped in.
He walked in to the house. This was a scene that he could not bare to see.
December 3rd, 2020, Tree Hill High School, Tree Hill North Carolina
This wasn't the worst of it. Not quite. Though he hadn't believed it at the time, there had been many worse days than that. Worse than her leaving without a backward glance. Some days, that day seem almost easy.
He'd never believed it. Even the next morning when he woke up without her. And the next night, when he went to sleep alone, and had all the hot water for his shower that he could desire. And the next month, when they cut off the electricity because he forgot to pay the bill without her. Even then, it didn't sink in, that she was gone. Some days he still expected her to be there when he rounded a corner, or glanced over his shoulder. Some days he still expected to see her, hair loose around her shoulders, smiling only at him. Some other days, he was sure he did see her.
As his door opened, he looked up in surprise. He frowned when one of the Varsity ball players entered and sank into the chair in front of the desk.
"What are you doing here, Harrison?" he asked in annoyance.
"Principal sent me. I got caught making out with Cherie in the hall," he said.
"I don't care particularly," he said.
"What, you were never in love with a cheerleader in high school?" asked Harrison jokingly. Nathan glared at him.
"Get out. Give me a hundred pushups today in practise and I can get Turner to write it off," said Nathan. He wondered why it mattered. Teenagers would make out even if punished, even if forbidden. There was really nothing they could do about it all.
As he left the room, he stopped short at the door. Nathan glanced up to see a brunette woman, seeking entry.
"Oh. Sorry," said Harrison apoligetically.
"No problem, I'm just here to see your coach," she said. Harrison nodded and left at a run.
Nathan glanced up, his blue eyes cold.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
She stared at him for a moment, wishing instantly that she knew what had brought him so far down.
