Author's note: Flashbacks are in Italics. Oh and you might be confused and shocked at some points. But that's totally intentional.
If you could let me know what you think, good and bad, constructive criticism is always appreciated. Reviews are love.

A thousand hugs and kisses to everyone who reviewed. You are lovely and kind.
There was some constructive criticism on the last chapter. I wanna thank that person for their honest opinion. I did some research on marriage and age in North Carolina. Actually you can marry without parental consent there when you're 18 but even if you couldn't I think that wouldn't change much of my story.
If Karen saw that Lucas' mind was made up about it I don't think she would keep him from marrying Peyton. Not if she thinks he loves her. Not after her own life story. But that's just my opinion.

And as for Lucas marrying Peyton and his motivation for that: I think a lot of what makes Lucas' tick comes from his childhood and the relationship with his father. In my story, Lucas asks Peyton to marry him cause he thinks that way he'd do right by her.
The fact that he loves her and wants his child to have the family he never had is also important. And last but not least, he's seen what happened to his mother, who was hung up on Dan for so long, unable to move on, unable to be happy with Keith sooner. I think Lucas does not want history to repeat itself. Whether he's doing the right thing to prevent it from repeating is a whole other story.

Last but not least:
This chapter is very short but it was an entity as it was and I didn't wanna drag it out plus you deserved and update, so here you go.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill. Or any of the characters that you know and love. I'd love to but I don't. I'd also not be able to pull this whole thing off with the help of awesome Tej. I don't own her either, but she pwns me.

4. Revelation

"What pride to discover that nothing belongs to you - what a revelation."

Emile M. Cioran

New York, New York. June 2008

After a long tiring day of classes, tutorials and fitting sessions, Brooke opened the door to her small apartment. She had been glad to move out of the dorm, the additional space and privacy allowed her to concentrate more on her designs.

Ever since that day in March, ever since that phone call, she had buried herself in work. She had started putting together a new fashion line for class and setting up a business plan. Her teachers had soon picked up on her recent effort, supporting one of their most promising students in her endeavour.

It had led her to a small internship at Neiman Marcus and would culminate in her very own, albeit little, fashion show in two months time. It was just a small launch thing at the faculty and most guests would be fellow students or professors but it was still a great accomplishment. Even though Brooke was only in her freshman year, she knew it was never too early to form contacts in the fast moving world that was the fashion industry. It had taken its toll though. Her primary goal, to get her mind of the "situation" as she called it in her head had been somewhat accomplished but she had also not really slept in days.

At first, people had tried to call her, get in touch with her. Lucas, Haley, even Peyton. She had shrugged them off. Had made up excuses about work and school to the two former and ignored the latter.

Somehow, they had caught on that she needed her time and had actually been convinced that she would be ok. In time. And she had been able to hold up that exterior of the invincible Brooke Davis.
What a joke.

Then Karen had called, and Karen Roe was not a person to be ignored. Or to be fooled. With Karen, it was also pretty hard to feed her the "I'm-gonna-be-ok story." Karen was a mother. With her concern and love, the older woman had been able to at least get through to Brooke a little. It was also from Karen that she knew that Lucas and Peyton were going to keep the baby and currently preparing for the arrival of a little girl. She had not been surprised. She hadn't really expected any less from both of them. After all, Lucas Scott had a hero complex and had always wanted to make up for Dan's ways and Peyton Sawyer was the girl who had lost two mothers.

She had acted as if none of that mattered to her, pretending to be happy for the two of them.

The stone wall thing had worked surprisingly well, and the work load had helped.
Now she just had to try to survive, stay away from them and ignore the nagging pain. The more work she had, the easier that task seemed to be accomplished. But there were those dreaded moments, when she was alone in her apartment, after a long day of work. The moments when the disappointment and the sorrow seemed to grow into monsters in the dark, lurking under her bed, waiting for that moment when she switched off the lights to crawl out and eat her up. When it became too much.
When she would take a moment to stop and let the thoughts in she kept so happily entertained with dresses and fittings and classes and schedules.
It was those moments when Brooke Davis would rely on her true friends in the world: Ben&Jerry's Phish Food, a hot soak and something strong.

Still, all the ice cream, baths and alcohol in the world couldn't change the fact that she had never felt this hollow. They couldn't change the fact that when she was alone and standing still she felt as if there was a huge weight resting on her and suffocating her.

Whatever Brooke Davis was doing, she was most definitely not doing fine.

Stepping into her small hallway, Brooke bent down to pick up the mail scattered on the floor. She put it on her kitchen counter and started rummaging through her freezer in search of her last deep frozen pine apple pizza. This was a junk food night. Trying to get the icy thing out of its stubborn cardboard box, she started to tear and rip forcefully until she knocked her purse over, sending bills and letters and handbag in a mess on the floor.

Cussing quietly, Brooke knelt down to collect the content of her purse. That was when she saw it. Next to her keys and favorite lip gloss lay a creamy white thick envelope that was most definitely not a bill. The elegant Italics read her name and address. When she turned it, she saw the blazing heart – Peyton's trademark – as a seal on the back.

A dreading feeling in her stomach, she ripped it open.

Soon they will be joining together,
all the hopes for the future
as they are joining their lives.
Share with them this new beginning,
the first day of the rest of their lives together.


Mr. Larry Sawyer requests the honor of your presence at the marriage of his beloved daughter:

PEYTON ELIZABETH
to
LUCAS EUGENE SCOTT

son of Ms. Karen Roe


On the 16th of August 2008
At 15 o'clock

In St Martin's Chapel

1892 Union Avenue

Tree Hill, North Carolina

And underneath, in Peyton's distinct handwriting:

Brooke,

I know I probably have no right to do this now, especially since we haven't spoken in a long time and I'm not sure we're still friends. I'm sorry for that. I know a lot has happened. I'm sorry for that, too. And I know this is a lot to ask but as far as I'm concerned, you still are my best friend. You always have been.

This day would mean nothing without you. I've tried to contact you these last two weeks to ask you in person, but I haven't been able to get a hold of you. If I had, you would know now how sorry I am for everything. For not telling you sooner. For what I did. Hurting you was never my intention.

When we were little I used to dream about how it would be - walking down that aisle. We dreamed together, remember? Granted, you always imagined getting hitched to this guy from the Backstreet Boys or Brad Pitt or something and my Mr. Right looked somewhat more along the lines of Kurt Cobain. And I always thought I would have this lavish ceremony with my Mom crying and my Dad giving me away. Not everything worked out as we planned and my fantasy has changed over the years but Brooke…I could never imagine doing it without you. Whenever I pictured this day in my head, there you were, always by my side.

To be honest with you, I'm scared shitless. I'm going to be a mother and a wife before I'm even allowed to drink. Even though over the years we've let things come between us…You are still my Brooke, and there is no other person in this world who could possibly be my maid of honour. It's you or no one.

Please Brooke, your friendship still means the world to me. I hope you feel the same and come down here for my wedding.

Share it with me. It means nothing without you.

Love, P. Sawyer

She did not cry. In fact, she didn't move at all for a while. She just sat there, crouched on the floor and stared down at the letter, the forgotten pizza thawing on the counter.

t.b.c.