I really wasn't sure this would ever be published, so I am pretty excited about that. This story had meant a lot to me so long ago and it's been nice getting to explore that again. I have enjoyed every minute that I have been able to throw myself into my original story. But, I've hit some writer's block and the only logical thing I could think to do was return to the couple and the show that first sparked my passion for writing and in the fan fiction community that gave me so much motivation with your kind reviews to keep pursuing that passion.
This story begins at the start of season 6. I have done this in different variations before, but this is another twist on the path i believe this story should have explored. What I have always loved so much as a I writer is the complexities and layerings of characters. That become lost in later seasons of One Tree Hill in my opinion and it unfortunately deviated from the beautiful journey that the show began with.
My biggest hopes for this story is to understand the psyches of Brooke of Lucas and to understand that they were both in the dark to so much that contributed to and resulted from their break up in season 4. I really want to highlight what in my opinion is the differences between choices of comfort, logic, and destiny.
This chapter will be titled Nothing Breaks Like A Broke Heart. Give Miley Cyrus' acoustic version a listen while reading. If you a moment, please leave a review of what you liked or didn't like! They mean more than you know :)
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, dialogue, story lines originally established by Mark Schwann and Trademarked workings of One Tree Hill.
So without further adieu... here it is!
He squints trying to adjust his eyes to the sun. Immediately recognizing his surroundings, his sights seem to focus on one person in particular. Despite the hustle and bustle of mid-morning Manhattan life unfolding around him, one older gentleman is the only thing that draws his attention
"Three simple cards. Three beautiful ladies. It's simple, son. All you got to do is pick one."
The man softly jostles the cards and he walks towards him enamored by the game presented to him.
"Alright."
"Just follow the heart." He says matter of factly as he holds a queen of hearts card before him. Revealing the cards at hand, he begins to shuffle them interchanging the cards between one another. Trying to decipher the path that a specific card followed, he finds himself interrupted.
"Hey, handsome. These are for you for our one year anniversary."
Spinning around on heels, he finds himself caught off guard to find Brooke placing a bouquet of brilliant roses in his arms.
What was Brooke doing here?
What was he doing here?
These questions seemed to be pushed to the back of his mind as suddenly the answers didn't seem to matter. In his confusion, he somehow felt omniscient. His questions seemed to dissolve into thin air.
"Uh, Brooke, I'm your husband. I'm supposed to give you flowers."
"I know, but I wanted to make sure I'd like them." As she turns to walk away, he follows suit in her lead chuckling.
"Well… happy anniversary, wife." He says as he hands off the roses into her rightful arms.
"Thank you, husband. I love them."
And just like that, they were strolling through the streets of New York City arm in arm.
"You ever miss Tree Hill?"
The light tone of moments ago morphs into a far more serious one.
"Of course. I miss my friends."
"Jamie's getting big. We never see him."
"I know, but you have your book tour, and I have the company. I think he understands."
"But what about all that traveling? I mean, I'm proud of you and all but… it just sucks that we're apart so much."
"I know. It makes coming home kind of sexy, though."
"Very true."
He couldn't understand why she seemed so blasé. Their self created family of friends meant the world to Brooke. The labor of love that went into Clothes Over Bros was important to her but not the domino effect that came from it. The teenage girl he once knew had grown up into a woman whose priorities far exceeded the glitter of fame and fortune. It was almost as if the universe wanted him to believe these things.
As they weaved through honking cabs around them, he pulls her to a stop in front of their apartment building.
"Hey. I do love you, Brooke Davis."
The rest seemed so insignificant in the scheme of the big picture. Life wasn't perfect, and he loved her nonetheless.
"And I love you, Lucas Davis… Scott. I'm gonna love you even more when I see the exactly- what-I-wanted-gift you got me for our anniversary."
"You're gonna love that, whatever it is. Happy anniversary."
With her brilliant dimpled smile leading the way, she leans in to kiss him.
"Thank you."
She turns around once more leading them through the revolving door of their building.
Brooke Davis was his wife and he knew he was exactly where he was destined to be.
In a moment that feels like a flash, he is walking through the front door of his childhood home.
"Happy anniversary." He holds up a bouquet of white lilies waiting for the sound of a familiar southern drawl.
"Go back out!" He hears her scream from the back room before she sticks her head out wearing a seductive grin.
"Why, is the mailman here again?"
Their banter was so natural. Surveying back over their first year of marriage together, he couldn't help but to marvel at how fluid it all was. It was as if he married his best friend.
"No. He just pulled on his pants and jumped out the window, but he did leave you an anniversary gift, and I haven't wrapped it yet."
She saunters out from behind the door frame towards him.
"Hi babe."
"Hi wifey." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kisses him. Pulling away, she affectionately grazes his cheek and he hands her the flowers.
"These are for you."
"Oh, they're beautiful. Thank you. How was your day?"
"It was good. It is good. You know, I can't believe it's been a year." Following her into the kitchen, she sets the flowers in a vase.
"Time flies when you get what you wish for."
"Is it? Is it what you wished for, Peyton?"
If in 50 years from now someone asked him if he was happy to be the husband of Peyton Sawyer, he was sure that his answer would be yes. She was his soul mate after all.
"If I say it's more than that, are you going to tease me for being a dork?"
"Mhm." He nods emphatically laughing at her honesty.
"Well, I made dinner reservations for tonight if you want."
"Actually…" She says with a mischievous grin. "I was thinking maybe we could just stay in and have a quiet dinner, and kiss awhile. And there is a chance I could be rocking some slightly dirty-girl lingerie underneath these jeans."
His eyes travel down below her waistline swallowing at the thought of her suggested anniversary evening.
"I think I need to sit down."
Peyton Sawyer was his wife and he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The breeze of the evening air peacefully sweeps over him as he sits atop a sprawling terrace.
"Why you okay?" Lindsay comes from around the bend of the second floor deck placing flowers into a vase.
"Yeah. You look nice."
"Thanks." She strikes a modest pose. "But, I still haven't gotten ready yet."
"Doesn't matter."
"How come after a year of marriage you're still so sweet to me?"
"Because you're you. And because you deserve it."
Walking over to him, she leans down just before his lips.
"You make it all too easy." Kissing him tenderly, he smiles into her kiss.
Their marriage was easy. He loved her and she loved him. They didn't add intricacies to that very notion. They fought. They made up. They were happy.
"Hey Linds." Stopping to turn around, she smiles back at him. "It's easy with us, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It's the easiest."
There were no fireworks. It was the easiest…
Following her suit into their home, he walks through the doorway.
Lindsay Strauss was his wife and he knew he was exactly where he felt at peace.
As he walks through the door, he finds himself back in New York City.
"There he is. Come on now, son."
Taking the bait, he walks towards the game table folding his hands behind his back.
"3 queens. 3 choices. Just follow the heart."
Once again holding up the Queen of Hearts, he continues to shuffle and mix the cards before him.
"Come on, Lucas. Just pick one."
"You got to pick one, Luke."
"You can do it, Uncle Lucas."
His best friend, brother and nephew sit before him successively encouraging him to play what didn't feel like a game after all.
"Pick one."
Then came Lindsay urging him for him to do the same. He remains stoic watching the scene play out before him.
"Pick one."
The corner of his lip curves up before falling back down at Peyton's words.
"Just pick one."
Nodding cautiously, his gaze to Brooke leads his finger towards the line of three cards.
"That's the one." He says confidently placing his finger atop the card on the right.
"You sure?"
His laser focus doesn't deviate as he lets his confident eyes answer the question for him.
"Well, well… looks like you found your queen. Not many do. How did you know which one to pick?"
"I guess I always knew."
He blinks to find himself awakening from a dream that felt unlike any dream he had ever had. He had never remembered a dream with such vivid detail before. There wasn't a moment of it that was lost on him. He could tangibly feel the sentiments of each sequence.
And what he knew to be resolute when he woke up was exactly who he had picked in that dream. He knew without question which woman had propelled him to choose his Queen of Hearts.
Three lives flashed before his eyes. One with challenges that life throws at love. One with a scenario where life play out exactly as it was supposed to. Another that was quite simply the easiest choice; a life that he could finds no complaints with. And in all of these sequences, he only found himself saying I love you in one.
He was 634 miles away from his life in Tree Hill and his family and friends. He and his wife travelled more often than they saw one another. In spite of those things, he was happy. More than that, he could feel the unwavering love he had for her.
That woman was his Queen of Hearts. That woman was Brooke Davis.
Blinking profusely, his eyes land on a familiar man; the same man from his dream. His mind must have pulled him into his consciousness as he had seen him last before he drifted off to sleep.
He shakes his head laughing at how ridiculous all of this was. The last few weeks of his life have been a train wreck. He screwed up an engagement with an amazing woman because after all this time he still couldn't figure out what the hell he wanted. In the past few weeks, he had been battling old truths and new revelations. And now, he was sitting here shaken by a dream.
And that is all it was: a dream. It was simply a fantastical depiction of his own catastrophic reality. That is all it could be.
That is why he couldn't figure out why it was bothering him so much. He couldn't make sense of how Peyton had told him that she dreamed of going back in time to accept his engagement proposal and all he could do was sit silently. He couldn't understand how Lindsay had stood in his door way with eyes practically begging him to make her stay and he could only ask her a question that had plagued him for years: do you ever miss me? A question that after all this time he knows had nothing to do with her at all. He couldn't comprehend how after years of dancing around the subject altogether for fear of this exact moment he still found himself thinking about Brooke Davis.
This was supposed to be a closed chapter. He made damn sure that he had buried her away from his thoughts and far away from his heart. He had to …
"Hi it's me." He picks his phone up to his ear. "Look I'm at the airport and I have two tickets to Vegas. Do you want to get married tonight?"
He had never dialed the phone. As laughed in jest at his lunacy, he wondered what he was going to do next. He came here to get away and maybe even find some clarity. As he sat in the waiting terminal before the customer service desk, he knew that this isn't where he would find that.
"Getting married, huh?" His thoughts are interrupted by the man sitting across from him.
"Oh, no. I was just…." What was he doing? How could he possibly explain what he was doing to the stranger of his dreams. "i was daydreaming."
"Oh yeah? You have a girl out there?"
Well, he had already deemed himself crazy, so what did he really care what a stranger thought of him?
"Not exactly. Things are a little messy right now."
"I want to tell you something, son. That's the most important thing there is: love, finding the right person to spend your life with."
He's not sure what it is about this man who for all he knew was a figment of his crazed imagination, but he hung onto his every word.
"I think my mind keeps convoluting the choice that maybe my heart has always known."
"Yeah…That's where they get you; thinking you have a choice. Love finds you, son. You don't find love. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, what's written in the stars. A lot to do with the simple fact that most women are smarter than we are… and wily. Your sorry butt never had a chance. But, if you want to believe you had a choice in the matter, then I sure hope you pick with your heart and not with your mind."
He searched for the words to say for this stranger who has given him some clarity in both his dreams and nightmarish reality. The words never came as he is left to decipher things that were slowly but surely becoming frighteningly apparent to him.
"I got to get going, son. I hope you make it to the places you're meant to be." Tipping his hat towards him, he nods back in the appreciation that he can't quite verbalize right now.
People that are meant to be together always find their way in the end
There were so many things Brooke Davis didn't know. What haunted him today more than most is that he was certain these were things she could never know.
The heaviness of her eyelids makes each passing blink feel painstaking. Over the last few days, sleep had been a long lost friend to her. She lied in her bed each night with thoughts running rampant in her mind making sleep feel like only a distant memory. Her exhaustion was taking a physical toll.
The strokes of her sketching pencil become more shallow before she drops the pencil against her design book. She needed to go home. She should have gone home hours ago once Mouth and Millie had left. She knew she needed to give herself a break, but her mind was working in overdrive against her needs. She craved distraction. She was scared to death that the moment she stopped doing something she would be forced to feel. Her present exhaustion was welcomed opposed to the alternative.
Gathering her designs, she arranges them neatly holding them against her chest. Walking over towards her safe in the back room of Clothes Over Bros, she carefully spins the dial to enter the combination. She gingerly places them on the top shelf where she always had.
Her eyes deviate to a bottom storage drawer which she had mentally referred to as "Pandora's Box." She had found it funny when she coined the nickname over a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. That may be the only funny thing about the drawer and its contents. It was behind a lock for a reason. She had convinced herself to get rid of the contents time and time again. Several times, she even came close. But, when the actual time came to do so, physical sickness came over her. She couldn't get rid of it, but she couldn't bear to be around it either.
The only logical (as antonymous as that word felt to the truth) thing she could think to do with it was keep it behind a lock and seal away from any and everyone. She hadn't looked at it in so long even though she would be lying to herself if she didn't think of it each and every single day. But, in light of recent events, she felt this compulsion to do so despite her very best efforts. She knew where this would lead. It never ended well, and she knew that her present place on an emotional ledge would push her right over.
Nonetheless, her hand descended towards it to open it. The volume of the drawer was filled with only one small square image. It didn't look like much of anything. But, to her it meant everything. Or rather did mean everything…
Her breathing felt staggered like she was suddenly gasping for air. How did this tiny black and white image have such a hold over her after all this time? The tiny cluster of indiscernible feature nearly taunted her as it looked back at her. She knew exactly what it was and exactly what it had meant to her. Her eyes ended up where it always had.
CRL 16.56 mm
8 weeks 1 day
Scott, Baby
She tore her eyes away from the ultrasound image feels as though the sight was searing through her. Gasping, she feels short of breath and her ears feel almost as though they are ringing. The room around her seems to shrink. Heat courses through her.
Just as her luck would have it, the sight of one of the pictures sitting atop her work station seems to be the only thing she can see. Its place on the desk was a new addition.
Lucas had brought the picture over a week or so ago. He was holding Angie in his arms as she wore the sweetest smile on her face. The poor little girl had been so sick that it wasn't often that she smiled. It may have been a figment of her imagination, but she felt like when the three of them were together that all seemed to wash away even if for a short time. This photo captured that as she looked like such a happy little baby. Her own smile was not lost on her as she stood by Lucas' waist with his arm wrapped around her.
They had taken Angie to the playground that day. Strangers in passing stopped to comment at what a beautiful family they were.
Family…
Lucas seemed quick to correct them all. She felt the same pang in her chest now that she had then. When Angie left, it seemed to only opened up old wounds. It took her back to the day she lost Lucas Scott's baby and then the day she lost Lucas Scott…
Since then, she lost so much of who she was.
As tears pour down her cheeks profusely and she fights to take control over her breathing, she glances around the store praying for solitude in the middle of what she knows to be a panic attack.
Clothes Over Bros.
Fame.
Fortune.
This is what she wished for, right?
Collapsing against the couch, she slowly recollects her breathing clasping her eyes shut against the migraine headache that has come on.
Now, she only wished for two things that she could never have.
There were so many things Lucas Scott didn't know. What haunted her today more than most is that she was certain these were things he could never know.