A/N: For the record, I am indeed a masochist. I really didn't think that before, but I reread chapter four and realized this. Mark Schwann must be a masochist too though because he's about as big an LPer as I am and OMG DID YOU SEE THAT LAST EPISODE? I seriously called it. I mean…I knew he proposed to Lindsey, but I didn't know it was going to be RIGHT after he kissed Peyton. So yeah…I win. But really I lose because that whole episode was utterly depressing. But I'm not going to go on and on about how much it killed me and how much they ruined Luke's character. That would just take up space.

Oh and someone asked about the opening paragraphs to each chapter. I write those paragraphs myself. :)

Oh! And mostly all of you are wondering if this is going to have a happy ending…well take a look at the other stuff I've written and you tell me.

Oh and….no wait I've run out of "oh's"…So just go enjoy the chapter. And review, cause they make me smile. Next chapter should be out Monday or Tuesday.

Chapter Five: Distance

The statement 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' begs the question when did we start lying to ourselves? Because in all honesty, absence for a period of time will indeed intensify feelings, but it's only because we're beings accustomed to longing for things we don't have.

The heart therefore is not growing fonder with the increased absence. It is only growing bitter. It becomes angry and hostile. Because once we realize that someone isn't coming back, we start asking questions. Why did he/she leave? Why aren't they back yet? Do they hurt as much as I do? Did they ever love me like I love them?

The answers our mind imposes only succeed in making the person in question out to be the villain. We're people fixed on polarity and the absence of shades of gray. Therefore, if your special someone has been gone for too long, they never loved you. It will never be the same when they come back. And most importantly, it is all their fault.

After all, they were the ones who created this chasm.

After the wedding, Peyton spent a good amount of time holed up under a pile of blankets with a bag of Matt's Chocolate Chip Cookies and around six boxes of Kleenex. Occasionally Brooke would peak in, and poke under the mass on the bed to make sure she was still breathing, but their conversation was always clipped. Brooke knew Peyton needed space. She also knew that Peyton Sawyer was a fighter.

She was like a phoenix. She could rise from the ashes, rebuild herself and just make do. Peyton was the type of person who had been through so much already, that it had numbed her core. She felt pain, and it was heartbreaking and damaging, but it never could truly break her. She had kept herself blocked off, a wall surrounding what was left of her heart.

It made her able to keep going even when she didn't want to or see the need to. Brooke of all people knew it best.

So when Peyton climbed out of bed one week later, dressed to the nines and ready for work, Brooke handed her a cup of coffee and smiled.

"Welcome back, P. Sawyer."

"Thank you B. Davis." She took a deep breath. "Today's a good day."

Brooke furrowed her eyebrows. It was one thing for Peyton to come out of her shell, it was another for her to be…dare she say it? Cheery. "Are you on drugs by any chance?"

"Nope. I'm just tired of crying and I'm tired of waiting. I'm going out and doing something with my life, and that means I'm going to start signing bands on the road. I figured it out last night, and it turns out I have enough money to hire someone to man the office here in Tree Hill. The three bands we've signed so far are making headway with the agents we've got and there's no need for me to stay here when there's plenty of small town talent out there."

"I see," Brooke said, stirring her cup. "And this isn't just your way of avoiding Lucas?"

"Now why'd you have to go and mention his name?" Peyton frowned, but there was humor in her tone.

"It's a valid question."

"I guess. But no, it's not just my way of avoiding Lucas. I'll admit that it helps me avoid him, but it's more my way of getting over him. I'm-"

"-burying yourself in your work? Yeah I got that."

"You don't approve?"

Brooke stared down at the portfolio in front of her and thought back to the time when Hoes Over Bros had made her forget about Lucas.

"I approve wholeheartedly," Brooke nodded, "I just think you should know something before you head off like Ponce De Leon."

"What?"

"This came for you this morning," Brooke sighed, handing her the letter. Peyton glanced at the front, her name scribbled in familiar chicken scratch.

"I don't want it."

"Peyton, you need to read it," she sighed, "Think of it as closure."

"There is no closure," Peyton said, darkly, but she took the letter. Brooke expected her to go back to her room, but she didn't. Instead Peyton took a seat at the counter and tore the letter open.

Peyton,

I know you said that I shouldn't write, and that's why I'll keep this short. Lindsey and I are moving to New York. It was the least I could do for breaking your heart again. I don't want you to have to suffer seeing Lindsey and me around town, and it hurts me just as much to see you.

Besides Tree Hill will never feel like home again without you by my side. I take full responsibility for that.

Yours always (and I mean that),

Lucas

"He's moving to New York," Peyton whispered, her heart so numb it didn't register any of the pain.

"They bought a nice condo with a view. I saw the pictures," Brooke said.

"Good for them," Peyton said shortly, "But this doesn't change my mind about leaving either. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work."

"It'll be okay, Peyton," Brooke reassured covering her hand over Peyton's.

Peyton glanced back, and for a moment, all the masked confidence drained from her face, and the fear allowed itself to be seen. She merely nodded before heading out the door.

Brooke watched her go, her heart breaking for her friend. She glanced down at the portfolio again. It was at times like this, she really hated Lucas Scott.

Peyton took in a deep breath savoring the fresh air. She had missed it. The stuffy air, a combination of grief and evaporated tears, which had filled her room the past few weeks had made for an almost suffocating existence. The outdoors provided a sense of newness. Rebirth, almost.

It was so nice, that Peyton decided to walk to lunch instead of having it ordered in. She took to the beachfront, nearly skipping down the boardwalk. She was so absorbed in the view and her ice cream cone (Peyton's version of a balanced lunch) that she didn't even realize someone was calling her name until they poked her in the side.

She nearly shrieked at the sensation but recovered seeing the smiling face in front of her.

"Hey Lindsey."

So much for the good, Lucas-free day.

"Hey! I'm so glad I ran into you! I just came from Brooke's. I was looking for you."

"Well you found me," Peyton replied, with the biggest smile she could muster.

"You have been MIA since the wedding. In fact, I don't think I even caught you at the reception, but then everything was so crazy then."

"Yeah it was." Peyton bit her lip. She really was getting way too good at lying.

"Anyways, I know we announced at the reception that we were going to wait a few months before we moved to New York, but Lucas has been adamant that we go now, and well I can't complain. I love it here, but you know, New York has always been my home."

"I get that," Peyton nodded.

"I know you do," Lindsey smiled, "It's why you came back here, right?"

"Exactly." Ha. Wow, she was really, really good at lying.

"Well anyways, my point was we're having a going away party before we leave. It would be on Saturday."

"Oh darn. This Saturday?"

"Yeah. Is that good for you?"

"You know what, actually, I'm heading out of town for work this Saturday and I won't be back...well I don't know when I'll be back. I'm going to have to miss it." She tried to look disappointed, but she doubted it looked anything sincere.

For Lindsey's part, she didn't notice.

"I totally understand, Peyton," Lindsey said giving her a genuine smile which made Peyton's stomach turn in self loathing, "Work is work."

"And work is a bitch," Peyton laughed.

"Well, it can't be too bad. Lucas says you love travelling."

"Really?" Peyton quirked her eyebrow.

"Yeah, he says you love the opportunity to just pick up and leave," Lindsey said, oblivious to the double meaning behind Lucas's words.

"Oh he's totally right," Peyton nodded, trying to resist the urge to grit her teeth, "I guess he and I share that quality."

"Definitely. So where you heading off to?"

Peyton grinned before answering.

Payback was definitely a bitch.

"I saw Peyton today," Lindsey spoke as she finished packing up the last of the boxes in their kitchen.

Lucas nearly dropped the lamp he was holding and shattered it into a billion pieces. He cursed to himself; that wouldn't have been conspicuous at all. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, she said she wasn't going to make it to our going away party."

Lucas shook his head. He didn't expect her to come, but it still hurt knowing the last image he'd ever have of Peyton Sawyer would be of sad eyes and a broken smile. "Well that sucks. Did she say why?"

The question was null and void, and part of Lucas knew it, but the other part knew it had to keep up appearances and if he and Peyton were supposed to appear to be friends, then he had to ask why she wasn't coming.

"She's got to work. She's heading out of town the night we leave."

"So she's signing a band?" Lucas asked, his attention perking.

"Actually, no not a band per say. Apparently she knows this really good singer from high school that she's been trying to get back into contact with…oh she told me his name…uh…"

"Jake?" Lucas asked quietly.

"Yes!" Lindsey said clapping her hands together, "That's it. Jake Jagieleski. She told me you used to know him. Apparently, he lives in Savannah now and he's interested in what she has to offer. Do you remember him?"

"Vividly," Lucas nodded, "He was a good guy."

"I figured. Peyton said it was pretty hard to forget a guy like Jake."

If he tried, he could have pictured the smirk on Peyton's face when she imagined Lindsey relaying this information to him, but as it stood, he only had one coherent thought running through his mind.

Son of a bitch.

If there was one thing Peyton and him were good at, it was the war of words.

Peyton sat on her bed, packing the last of her bags. Her suitcases packed and ready to go. Brooke was out picking up dinner. They were celebrating their last night together before Peyton picked up and took off for God knows how long. Brooke had tried to hide her disappointment but Peyton could feel it. Brooke had come back to Tree Hill in part for Peyton, and it broke Brooke's heart that she wasn't enough for Peyton to stay.

At the same time, Brooke knew that Peyton needed this. And Brooke, well she could respect that. She would stay in Tree Hill until Peyton was ready to come back. Unlike Lucas, Brooke knew how to wait.

"Everything always comes back to Lucas," Peyton whispered. Her shaking hands reached for the night table and pulled the letter he had written into her lap. Her eyes immediately darted to the signature. Yours always.

This is why she didn't want him writing. Because seeing those words made her want to run all the way to his house, scoop him in her arms and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. It made her forget that he had a wife. No, scratch that. It made her not care that he had one. And that feeling alone made her feel like scum.

How had this happened? How had something so beautiful and precious as love stripped her of her morals and values? When did it get to the point where she started believing that foolish statement "the heart wants what it wants" and followed it blindly without caring for its consequences? Was their love so raw and deep that it didn't matter who they hurt to keep it?

No. It wasn't.

Peyton Sawyer was tired of love that hurt other people. She was tired of being the other woman. She was tired of pain and sorrow and drama. If she was being honest, she was tired of Lucas Scott.

She was doing the right thing by leaving Tree Hill. With both of them in separate states far from what they had once called home, they could establish new identities. They could find a new sense of self, one free from cheating and lying and heartbreak. They could move on.

The distance would be good. Maybe it was enough space to keep her from running back to him.