Soon Enough
A/N: I'm surprised at how quickly I wrote this UD. The ending scene I was planning on using in a one-shot for months, but instead I used it here. I hope you all like that, and the rest of the chapter. Once again, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. And thanks to Leah, again :)
Chapter 3
Dreaming and Blushing
"So are you seeing anyone?" Haley asks for the first time this evening.
They are sitting in the living room of Nathan and Haley's exceptionally large house. It's only 9'Oclock – James is in bed and Nathan has just bid them goodnight to go watch the game on ESPN – but the wine that now sits on the coffee table in front of them is making Brooke sleepy and she has long since curled herself around a throw pillow.
She lifts her head at Haley's question. "No, why?"
Haley shrugs. "I was just wondering. You never told me what happened with Chase."
"We broke up like two years ago."
"I know. I was just kind-of surprised. You seemed to really love him."
Brooke shakes her head. She pauses. "I mean, yeah, I loved him – you're right." It was true – saying it had felt right. "I'm just not sure I was in love with him."
Haley nods. She understands. She had never failed to notice that Lucas was the only boy Brooke had ever been in love with. The brunette had seemed to crack after the break-up – emotionally and physically. She got thinner (no one else but Haley noticed), all curves except for her hips seemed to disappear. And she was broken – going around sleeping with teachers, making cruel-hearted jokes about her best friends, stealing a calculus test. She seemed simply lost – as though she thought letting go of Lucas would help her find herself, when in reality it did just the opposite.
And then along came Chase. The perfect stability Brooke needed in her life. And for awhile, Haley thought everything was fine. Lucas and Peyton were happy, Brooke and Chase were happy.
But then Haley began to see things more closely. She saw how eagerly Brooke had accepted Chase – needing simply something to make her forget. Forget the way Lucas looked at prom, forget the image of him and Peyton in Honeygrove, and forget the tears that fell onto the page of his book as she read the passage he had written about her.
Haley is Brooke's strongest confidant. Haley hadn't really realized it until Brooke had come knocking on her door after the renewal of the vows, and the accident. And how in a matter of seconds, Brooke's biggest secret had come spilling out – one she couldn't tell Peyton, one she didn't have the heart to tell Lucas.
In that moment, Brooke became more important to Haley than Lucas was. In that moment, Brooke made Haley swear to never tell Lucas.
Haley kept the promise.
She still wishes she had told Lucas.
"So what happened exactly?" the question is soft, non-accusatory. "With Chase."
Brooke sighs and looks up at Haley. And her eyes say it all.
"Babe, I know you're trying to be hospitable and all, but lets face it, you can't cook."
Still not used to the pet name, Brooke laughs only lightly. She's standing in the kitchen, throwing her failed attempt at ravioli down the garbage disposable. "The menus are in my nightstand."
Chase laughs and disappears into her bedroom. Brooke retreats to the living room with her wine glass, sitting down on the couch and propping up her feet on the coffee table.
Brooke is pleasantly surprised that the long distance thing has worked out so well for the two of them. Chase goes to UCLA, but comes and visits once a month, and she has to fly out to LA all the time anyway for conferences. They took a break for a few months, when they had begun to fight more and more, but the morning after Lucas' visit to New York, she had boarded a flight to LA and reunited with Chase – needing anything to mend her broken heart - or whatever she was feeling.
Chase emerges from her bedroom with a sad smile on his face. He's carrying her laptop, and even before he places it in front of her, she knows what she's going to find.
Her email. Open.
Subject: Dreaming
Cheery,
I had a dream about you last night. And no, not a dirty dream (since that's the conclusion you seem to normally jump to). I don't remember exactly what it was about but it definitely had something to do with what we were telling the buggy driver that night. About how we would have three kids – two boys and a girl?
In my dream, I could definitely picture one of the girls – probably because she looked exactly like you, right down to her dimples, green eyes, and brown hair. And she talked like you and laughed like you. And her name was Sophia.
Lucas
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Subject: RE: Dreaming.
Broody,
But dirty dreams are the best kind. God knows you've had enough of them.
I always pictured our girl to look like me and act like you, and the two boys to have my hair and your features. And her name was Sophia? You're just saying that because of that night senior year when I got totally drunk (and you let me!) and told you that we were going to have a baby girl named Sophia some day. Remember?
xo
Brooke
She looks up from the emails, stumbling across the right words to say, but none come.
"What is this?" his tone is soft and sad.
"T-their just emails."
"Brooke." He closes the laptop and sits on the coffee table in front of her. "You and me both know, these aren't just emails."
"But…"
"You've got to choose Brooke. Is it me – or is it him?"
She wants to scream that it's Chase – Chase is who she wants. Somehow, the words don't come. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with tears. And that's her answer.
"It's him. It's always been him." Those are his last words as he stands from the coffee table and pulls his coat off the hook by the door. He looks back at her one last time before disappearing out her front door.
She doesn't even try to stop him.
"Brooke. Brooke!" Brooke awakens suddenly to Haley's pushes on her arm. She had fallen asleep when Haley had gone into the kitchen to put away the wine glasses, and now her entire body is relaxed into the couch.
"Why don't you crash in the guest room?" Haley's suggestion is calming and logical. There's no sense in making Brooke drive all the way back to the Riverside when she could easily fall asleep at the wheel, and has probably had too much wine.
The brunette nods sleepily and lets Haley guide her to the dark guest room on the second floor. After falling out of her jeans and slipping into a pair of Haley's pajamas, Brooke collapses on the bed and lets sleep take her.
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She awakes feeling absolutely dead to the world. She checks the clock. It's 10:30. This may have been the first time in 4 years she's slept for 10 and a half hours. The shades on the windows are closed but a sliver of light sneaks in between them, and with a groan Brooke pulls herself from the bed.
The guest bathroom lies adjacent to the bedroom, but can still be reached from another door in the hall. She pads onto the cool tile and lifts her shirt over her head. After discarding her pajama bottoms, she reaches over the edge of the tub and turns on the water.
Hot steam escapes from the nozzle and Brooke steps under the jet of water. She lets the scalding water beat down on her back, and she gently unties her hair, letting her locks fall under the shower.
After a few minutes she begins to wonder when the last time she enjoyed a shower this much was. Normally she gets five minutes under the water in the morning – and that time is most often spent planning out her day.
But today she has no plans. Today she is free.
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He's on his sixth mile. He knows this because it's 6 miles to Nathan and Haley's and their house is looming in the distance. Lucas smiles to himself. More often than not, this is his weekend ritual. He goes for his jog on Saturday mornings and stops by Nathan and Haley's to mooch some breakfast off of them.
As he reaches their driveway, he pulls his headphones from his ears and punches out the password for the gate. With a small creak, the gate slides open, and he starts up the lush lawn.
He enters the house from the side door, and is hit by a strong whiff of blueberries. To his surprise, he finds Nathan at the stove flipping pancakes.
"Since when do you cook?" asks Lucas, grabbing a bottle of water at the fridge, and throwing himself down on the kitchen stool.
"Since I realized making two million dollars a year isn't everything, and it's nice to give your wife a morning off once in a while." Nathan lowers the heat on the griddle and wrinkles his nose at Lucas. "Go take a shower, dude, you reek."
Lucas laughs. "In my defense, it's hotter out than usual." With a grin, he pushes the stool back and exits the kitchen, making his way up the stairs.
He nears the bathroom at the end of the hall and, a bit prematurely, pulls his shirt over his head. Pushing the door open and entering the bathroom, he's met by a surprised scream.
"Lucas!" It takes a few seconds for him to register that he's just walked in on Brooke in the shower. And after he does realize it, he kind-of just stands there, dumbfounded, staring at her. She hasn't made a huge attempt to cover up – she's simply turned her body slightly away from him, and moved her arms over her chest. But he can still see her curves, the way her hips glide smoothly into her thighs. He can still see the smoothness of her shoulders, and the flatness of her stomach, and the small hole where her belly button caves in. And he can't look away.
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There is a few seconds of an awkward pause where neither of them say anything. Brooke is surprised that Lucas has yet to avert his eyes, but as soon as she clears her throat, his eyes fly up to her face, as if he was caught in the act of looking at something he shouldn't have been looking at.
"Oh, god, I-I'm sorry." He hurriedly tries to back out of the bathroom, but instead misses the door, and falls against the wall. As his eyes now travel down to the floor, he seeming more embarrassed than her, Brooke realizes that he's not exactly fully dressed either. He's clasping his t-shirt in one hand, and the sweat glistens off his chest in a way that makes her go slightly weak in the knees. It's her turn now to blush as he mumbles another apology before stepping out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.
The last thing she sees before the door slams shut is a glimpse of an ink outline on his right shoulder.
And, letting her hand fall to the same tracing on her inner hip, she has to smile.