When Your Sun Turns Black
This story is written by brookescott134 and Brucas46Forever. We really, really hope you like this. Comments are greatly appreciated and they are what keep us encouraged to write. Remember that.
Summary: Sometimes people play hard-to-get because they need to know the other person's feelings are real, but sometimes, for some of us, we play too hard.
Rating: T
Authors' Note: Well, we totally loved the increase in your reviews for the last chapter, seriously—it was great. And (!) since you've been such wonderful readers, we're rewarding you by updating a lot quicker than we've usually done. We hope you guys keep up the amazing reviews. If you want quicker updates, I'm sure you will. And please tell us what you like or don't like in the stories so we know just what to give you all. Thanks!
Chapter Six: If You Leave Me Now
If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
No, baby, please, don't go
If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
No, baby, please, don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away
We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way
When tomorrow comes we'll both regret
Things we said today
'Cause I need you more than you'll ever know
-"If You Leave Me Now" by Chicago
"I want a divorce."
The words echoed in his head, and they cut through him like a knife. She didn't want to be his wife anymore. She didn't want anything to do with him, and he felt a pang in his heart that was so real he had to keep himself from crying out loud. He placed a hand on his hip and the other on the foot board of the bed, as if to steady himself, and sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to think of a way to reply to her confession. "I'm sorry, Brooke," he said, looking up at her. "I really am, but there is nothing that you can do to make me divorce you. I'm sorry, it's just not what I want."
"I didn't ask if you wanted it or not, but you don't want to be married to me anymore, and you make that perfectly clear when you never come home, or when you don't call, or don't kiss me; when you don't smile at me or hold me; when you don't hug me; when you don't give me a simple, "You look beautiful," or an, "I love you." Lucas, you say you don't want this, but you show the exact opposite."
He took a couple of steps towards her until he was standing in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands, and she sighed, annoyed, and tried to turn her head away. He zeroed in on her lips, kissing her softly. Pulling away, he said, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "I love you more than anything in the world." And as he kissed her once more, she felt a tear drop on her face. She gave a short gasp as he rested his forehead on hers. "I don't want to divorce you," he whispered.
She shut her eyes, wanting nothing more than to fall into his body and have him hold her, but she couldn't. She couldn't do that to her self again; she couldn't trust words any longer; she couldn't trust him with her heart. "I want a divorce," she repeated again softly as she pulled away from him. She didn't look up at him once as she walked back into the bathroom, shutting the door and sliding down against it. Pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on top of them, she let her tears fall freely as sob after sob escaped her lips. After the silence she endured, she couldn't hold this in anything longer. It had been so long of fake smiles and feelings to the point where she had now realized she didn't know what was real anymore.
He wanted to cry; he wanted to scream; he wanted to shout; but mostly, he just wanted to hold her; he just wanted to be with her, and knowing that she didn't want the same thing was eating at him inside.
"So did he say when he'd be back?" Haley asked as she sat on the large, plush, deep chocolate brown couch. She was sitting in front of Brooke and Peyton, one arm resting on the back of the couch and the other on the knee that was bent, a cup of coffee in her hands.
It was early, just around 6 o'clock in the morning. The sun was just beginning to make it's presence known, setting off a faint, blue glow to the sky.
Asleep in bed, tangled in her covers, Brooke woke up to a shuffling noise. Sitting up slowly and steadying herself with one arm, she rubbed her eyes with the other, looking around the room groggily. At the foot of the bed, a big suitcase lay open, and across the room, in front of the wide open closet, Lucas stood, making his way back and forth with piles of clothes in his hand. On his way back, he froze, noticing Brooke was awake. She looked up at him and blinked. Glancing at the half-filled suitcase and back at Lucas, she lay back onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow.
"I have to go. I swear, if I had a choice, I wouldn't," Lucas rushed to explain.
"I've heard the story before," she said groggily, her voice muffled from the pillow.
"Brooke, listen—"
"Save it, Lucas. It's too early to have to listen to your endless excuses."
"I'm sorry, Brooke," he said as the zip of the bag was heard. "I really am." Taking one last look at her, he lifted up his suitcase and walked slowly to the door, looking back only once before sighing and departing.
Her fingers outlined the tip of the cup as she shrugged. "No," she answers softly, a hint of bitterness and hurt dripping through her simple word.
"Don't worry, Brooke. I'm sure he won't take too long," Peyton said, appearing through the kitchen with a cup of milk in her hand.
"Since when do you drink milk?" Brooke asked.
Peyton sighed dramatically. "Since Jake got me pregnant."
Haley smirked, before turning back to Brooke and the issue at hand. "So did you decide what you were going to do?"
"About?"
"The . . ." Haley struggled to say the word she herself had despised for so long.
Peyton filled in the pieces. "The divorce, Brooke. What's going to happen about the divorce?"
"I have a meeting with my lawyer tomorrow. ...I was going to cancel it, but him leaving just brought back all those memories."
"I say you cancel, Brooke. Lucas is going to be back. It's not like he left you for good," Haley said sourly.
"I know that, and I am not just going through with it because he left again. It just gave me that final push," she explained. "It just brought back all those memories of the past year and how bad things have came to be. There were seriously times, not too long ago, where he'd leave for business trips and get back and I wouldn't even know he'd left. That is how often he was gone, and it just got to the point where I became so bitter and so angry and so . . . hurt," her voice wavered here, "with him that I honestly didn't care whether I ever saw him again. I mean, he is my husband, the guy I am supposed to be madly in love with, and I just gave up caring anymore. I mean, where is it going to get me? We've turned out just like my parents and that is something I vowed to never do. I am not doing that to my kids. I won't put them through that," she shook her head, "not right now. I am honestly just hoping he doesn't come back—as horrible as that sounds. I am just done."
Peyton was about to speak when the sharp ring of the phone sounded through the extremely large house.
Brooke sighed and stood up, walking over to pick up the wireless phone. "'Unknown number'? Who could that be?"
Peyton shrugged. "Answer it."
"Hello?" Brooke spoke into the phone. "Yes, this is she." Nothing could have prepared her for the caller's next words. "What—no. It can't be. He was fine. I-He was taking his medications. He-He has to be fine," she sobbed. Suddenly, she felt like the cruelest woman on earth. She didn't bother listening to the rest of the message. She placed the phone on the counter, and her face looked stunned, despaired.
The curiosity was killing them. "What? What is it?" Haley asked.
"Is it Lucas?" Peyton asked when Brooke didn't answer.
"They . . . He . . . " and she couldn't continue as the pain overtook her. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap of tears and fears, and Haley jumped up to rush to her, holding her in her arms.
"Shh, Brooke. Tell us what's happening."
Her tears subsided for a moment, and she said, "He had a heart attack."
Peyton sat up to sit on the other side of her best friend.
Brooke couldn't help but feel responsible for it. They said he was stressed. What if it was she that stressed him? And now he was lying in a hospital bed, unaware of his surroundings, fighting for his life. She sobbed again at the thought. She had to get to him; to see him before anything else happens.
And suddenly, the thought of losing him became her biggest nightmare.
"I- I have to go," she said, trying her hardest to pull herself together as she stood up. "The kids—you have to take the kids, okay. I have to go." Brooke stuttered, almost in a daze as tears streamed down her face, fear burning through her eyes.
Her friends stood up as well, prepared to do anything to help her.
"Are you sure you don't need one of us to go with you?" Peyton asked.
"No, just . . . take care of the kids for me, please."
"Sure, Brooke. Now go pack a bag. I'm going to book you a flight," Haley said as she went off to find a phone and computer.
"Peyton, please, don't tell them anything." She didn't want her kids knowing what was happening. It wouldn't be good for them.
Peyton nodded, and Brooke rushed upstairs.
Within twenty minutes, a flight was booked and a cab was out side, alongside it was a frazzled Brooke and a concerned Peyton and Haley. "Do you have everything—tooth brush, pajamas, clothes, phone, money, plane ticket?" Haley asked.
"I think, I kind of just threw everything in the bag. I didn't have time . . . " Brooke stressed.
"You should go before you miss the flight," Peyton said, opening the cab door for her friend.
"Be safe. Give him our love," Haley said, receiving a hurried nod from Brooke as she began to shut the door of the cab before Peyton stopped her.
"Brooke," she started, "he is going to be okay. There is no way his stubborn little self his leaving you. There is no way," she repeated comfortingly, giving her friend a smile before hugging her tightly and shutting the door. She tapped the top of the cab, signaling for it to drive away as her and Haley watched the yellow vehicle disappear into the distance.
Brooke fidgeted the whole way there. She couldn't keep still; she couldn't eat; she couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about her husband, and about how it was all her fault. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be lying helplessly in an unfamiliar town, and she wouldn't be on a plane ride to him.
The plane shook, and a wave of nausea overtook her. Abruptly, she felt bile rise to her throat and she shot to the bathroom, ignoring the flight attendant's plea for people to remain seated.
She put a hand on her head as she flushed the toilet. Her head was still spinning and the situation was getting to her. She missed her kids. She missed Peyton and Haley. She missed her husband, and she was so worried for his life. Crying, desperately clinging onto the counter, she allowed the tears to fall, ignoring the knocks on the door.
After throwing her luggage in the nearest hotel, she rushed like a madwoman to find Lucas.
Barging in the hospital, she demanded they tell her where he was. Attempting to calm the lady down, the nurse rang the doctor, requesting his immediate arrival.
He came quickly, and Brooke was led to Lucas' room. The sight of him killed her. He looked fragile and pale.
"What's wrong with him?" she asked, tears in her eyes and in her voice.
"Well, as you know, your husband has HCM. His co-workers say he was stressed out, and stress is a big factor in the causes of the heart disease. Now, I understand he also did not take his every day medication. I am assuming he forgot to do so. We did everything we could, ma'am. Now we are just waiting for him to wake up and show us he is okay." Patting her shoulder, he left her to sit with her husband.
She walked to the chair next to him, sitting in it and taking her hand in his. "You are something else you know that?" she said, tears continuing to stream down her face. "I'm sorry, Luke. I am so sorry, for everything. Please . . . just wake up. Please, Lucas. Please," she sobbed.
Her head fell on his chest, and she struggled to listen to his heartbeat over her tears.
The next few days were spent the same way. She would never leave the hospital unless it was to shower, and occasionally to grab a bite so as not to starve herself. Haley and Peyton called each day, and each day she had no new news. They let her talk to her kids, and she cried on the phone with them. They still thought daddy was fine, and mommy was on her way to bring him back home.
It is just past midnight and Brooke is laying asleep, hunched over the bed, her butt in the uncomfortable hospital chair and her head resting on his chest. Her ear rested over his heart. It hadn't moved from there. The sound giving her reassurance, for the stupid little heart monitor next to her wasn't enough to prove to her that he was still with her, at least in the body.
The world was black around him, but somewhere in the darkness he saw a small light. As he drew nearer to it, it grew brighter and brighter until he woke up to the smell of hospitals and the sight of his worn out wife.
Recalling the day he collapsed at work, he realized they must have told Brooke, who flew out here to see him. His throat was sore, hair tousled, chest in pain, yet he couldn't have been happier. Smiling, he stroked her hair softly. It felt so good to feel her again, and soon, the pain in his chest was merely a side feeling, his love for the sleeping woman before him taking over.
She stirred under his touch, slowly opening her eyes to be met with his. She said nothing, trying to figure out whether this was real. Being deprived of real sleep for close to seventy-two hours could take a toll on anyone. She sat up and looked down at him, looking to the smile on his face. She opened her mouth but what came out was a raspy, faint noise which he could hardly make out. "Lucas?"
"Hey, Pretty Girl. How are you?"
She let out a large sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest, her large diamond shining in the dimmed light. "Jesus, Lucas," she breathed out. "I was scared to death. What the hell is wrong with you?" she said in an almost yell. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but as the tears filled her eyes, blocking off her vision, all the pain and worry for her husband were being covered with anger.
"Brooke," he said, watching as his wife sobbed next to him. "Hey, hey, come here, baby," he said in a soothing voice, pulling her to him on the bed. "Shh, it's okay." He stroked her hair. "I'm okay," he elaborated. Moving the hair away from her forehead, he planted a hard kiss there, holding her small body tightly to his.
"How could you do that to me? ...I thought you were gone. How could you? Lucas—" she stammered out in muffled sobs, and even though he couldn't understand most of what she said, his heart broke at the sound of her crying.
"Shh, Brooke. I would never leave you. I'm here, aren't I?" He tried to remain calm, but inside, he couldn't be happier. Her tears proved she was afraid for him, and that meant she still cared. And right now, he needed every bit of faith he could get.
"Yeah, but you almost left. You almost left me," she sobbed.
"Hey, hey," he laughed slightly. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Pretty Girl."
"Lucas, I'm so sorry," she apologized as she sat up next to him. "It's my fault. I stressed you too much, with the divorce, and the yelling, and the shouting, and—"
"Brooke, Brooke," he silenced her. "None of this is your fault. If anything it's mine. I've kind of been forgetting to take my medication sometimes," he reveals sheepishly.
"Yeah, about that—how could you be that stupid, Lucas? I mean, I know you've been an ass lately but that is just stupid," she said, her mood suddenly changing from worried and scared to angry.
"Brooke, it wasn't like I did it purposely. I just kept forgetting . . . but I'm fine now. There's nothing to worry about," he rushed to end the conversation before it became a yelling match.
"Lucas, what if it would have been worse? What if something worse happened?" she stressed. "How could you be so careless?"
"Brooke, could we please just talk about this later?" He looked deadbeat and Brooke's eyes suddenly flashed with guilt.
"Lucas, I'm just worried," she said, another tear rolling down her cheek. "I just—I can't— you have to be more careful," she told him.
Lucas let out a breath, looking Brooke in the eyes. He gave a small nodded, holding out his hand for her to take. She looked hesitantly at it before placing her feminine hand in his manly one. Climbing onto the bed, she wrapped her arm around him and let her head rest on his chest. Snuggled together, they fell into a comforting sleep, one they hadn't had in a while.
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