There isn't really too much to say except thank you all that have reviewed and read this story. I really appreciate it, more so than I can type out in words. Anyways, this chapter is told in Lucas' point of view. Hope you enjoy.

At the end, it switches back to regular point of view.

Love, Emily


Morning. The sun was already shining through the open gapes in the curtains. It was then I realized how long I actually been up, wondering, healing, whatever you'd like to call it. Self-pity possibly. It's what I've been feeling unconsciously for the past couple of weeks. To much of my surprise, it's helped, truth, that is. The thing about truth is, that it hurts, so we lie to escape that feeling of dismay that we're all sure to face sooner or later. Because as much as we don't see, the truth finds a way to come out, sometimes at the most inconvenient times.

Facing death in a library, just for an example.

Maybe I'm selfish. Selfish for being so ecstatic for hearing those words from her mouth, yet not having the sense to say anything back, let alone show that I was shocked from her spontaneous confession. Selfish for needing to hear her say those words to me, wanting. Maybe I wasn't shocked. Maybe that's why I didn't say anything back to her. Maybe I've known how she's felt all along, simply because I feel the same way. Is that possible, let alone reasonable? Is reason required for how you feel? The heart wants what it wants, sure, I get that, but what if what you want is out of your reach? Part of me couldn't answer her in the library that day, and if that makes me selfish for storing my own feelings, then that's exactly what I am; selfish. Maybe she didn't want an answer to begin with, for the mere thought of rejection.

Or maybe, we're both just as afraid as one another. Fear.

She's awake now, I can tell as I'm still sitting next to her on the bed. She's not saying anything, and I don't blame her. "Luke…" Her voice is cracked, and I notice single tears rolling down her cheeks. Turning to my side, I gently hover over her, my forearms providing support. Her face turns to the side and the sunlight immediately picks up the color of her hair. She's avoiding my glance, even as I find myself inches away from her, kissing away each escaped tear. "Why didn't you tell me?" She whispers, barely able to be heard.

"I didn't want you to be scared for me, or feel sorry for me."

My face backs away as hers turns back to face me. "That's what friends do, Luke, they're there for each other. Did you really think I'd treat you any differently?"

"Can you really lie and say you wouldn't have?" Answering questions with a question. She was already silent, and her head cocked back to the side; that was my answer. "Nothing's the same, Peyton. It's not something anyone can just forget about." I tried grabbing her attention. "It's always going to be there."

"I could've helped you."

I saw another tear slip from her eyelids and gently turned her face to mine. "You already have, alright? More than you think…" She nodded, a small sigh escaping her lips as I placed a kiss on her forehead.

"You're going to be okay…" She whispered softly.

"I already am." My hand brushes along the side of her face discreetly. "I don't want you to worry about me, alright?"

"I have to." Her eyes catch mine, and I'm lost. They're a reflection of mine, every emotion I'm feeling, I see in her eyes. "Who else knows?"

"Haley and Dan…" I see her face become confused, "Long story about how he knows…" She nods in understanding, and I silently thank her for not pushing the subject.

"What about your mom?" I shake my head, and her face turns. "Luke, you need to tell her."

"I know."

"And what about basketball, I mea-"

"Peyton…" Cutting her off, "I know. I just need time."

We both fall back into silence, and I can't help thinking about Keith, thinking about what Peyton said to me just last night. She was right, she was always right. She knew how it felt to lose someone you love.


"How could you do that, Luke? You've just realized how hard it is to lose someone, and you've been putting everyone who loves you in that same position? The chance of losing you?" Her eyes were filling with tears. "How could you do that…"


"What're you thinking about?" Her voice interrupted me, and I looked toward her slowly.

"How do you do it?" I asked simply.

"Do what?" She looked back at me, toying with one of my hands which lied comfortably against her stomach.

"Get up everyday when you know it'll hurt just as much, if not more, as the day before…" My eyes were itching to tear, break down again like with my mom.

"Because that's how you know you're healing."

"I didn't mean what I said, Peyton, a while ago…when I said I wished I hadn't have gone back into the school." A tear slipped away, and I didn't try to stop it.

"Lucas, I kno-"

"No, because I wouldn't take anything back from that day, as bad as the outcomes were." I looked into her eyes which were crossed toward my comment. "Even you being shot in the leg…" Her eyes were more confused than ever, and had good reason to be so. I caught her lips against mine and felt her hands slip easily through my hair. I didn't want to pull away like the times before, and was glad when she didn't pull away as well. Hovering over her, one of my hands cradled her face gently as I broke apart. "Because then you never would've told me you loved me."

She pecked me on the lips briefly, placing my forehead against hers. "I don't want to rush this…" I felt her heart beating under my hand and nodded.

"I know." I whispered, my forehead still on hers. "I just wanted t-"

"I know."

I stood up from the bed and helped her up, watching as she disappeared behind her bedroom door after telling me where she was going. She told me I could stay, so I did. I slept, finally having a clear enough mind to be able to do so.


"Karen?" She knocked on the door slightly, and saw her coming from the back of the house.

"Peyton…" She walked toward her slowly as Peyton's arms wrapped around her.

"I'm so sorry…" Peyton pulled herself away, "But I need to tell you something."