A/N: Umm sorry this update took so long. It's just I've kind of lost my passion for OTH because Lucas is a tool and Peyton is not much better.

Also, this is important and I've been meaning to address it for awhile but I kept forgetting every update. There's been some plagiarizing going around in this fandom and I've heard that my fics have been one of the sources (seeing as I don't read OTH stuff...I wouldn't know). So here's the deal! If you are the plagiarizer, I will give you one last chance to stop, and if you don't, I will track you down and give you the verbal lashing of your life. It will be so cruel and mean that you will want to cry for years and I will hold no mercy because plagiarism is evil and I'm not amused. I have been leinient and I have been nice and I could have reported you the first time you did this or named names so that everyone knew who you were. But I didn't because I believe in second chances. So I'm letting you know in the Author's Note because clearly you read my fics otherwise how would you get your own updates...This is the last warning.

Okay enough of me being mean, on to the chapter! This is unbeta'ed because it's nearly midnight and my beta lives in Britain. And I'm impatient. Sooo all mistakes are my own. And the next update will hopefully be out soon. (And for anyone who was a reader of Life Happens...I'm working on an update for that one too...shocking! I know.)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Fourteen: Interlude

For years, people have been spinning metaphors to describe exactly what life really is. But as it goes, life is too complex to be summed up in one entity, to be defined as anything other than life.

However, the most intriguing one to be stumbled across is the idea that life is a burned CD. It's filled with all different genres of music, funky dance mixes for all tomorrow's parties, ballads for those pivotal moments where lovers' eyes meet and break up songs for the heartache that's destined to come along. A gigantic mix of highest highs and lowest lows.

Most importantly, there's the segments set aside for the times when life runs in neutral, where nothing good and nothing bad happens.

Those are the interludes.

--

One of Peyton's clearest memories of her mother is her standing at the kitchen counter, hands on her hips and a bright pink apron tied around her waist. Her blonde hair was braided, though the humidity made it difficult to tell as the braid was swallowed whole by frizz.

Peyton remembered the funniest look on her mother's face. It was as if she was trying not to laugh but couldn't help it. And then she spoke, and the words stuck with Peyton all through her life.

"Peyton, when you cry, you tune out the world, don't you?"

To this day, Peyton couldn't tell you what she had been crying about then.

Now though, she understood exactly what her mother meant because somewhere between the time she collapsed in Lucas's arms and now, she had found her way to Chase's truck, and was now curled in a ball against the passenger side window.

The realization that she had no idea where she or more importantly, her daughter, was hit her just as Chase opened the driver's side door.

"Where's Maggie?" she asked immediately.

"Good to see you're no longer comatose," Chase smirked, "Maggie's with Haley and Nathan. They figured you didn't want her seeing you like this."

"What about Brooke?"

"She didn't see you like this either if that's what you're asking."

"No! I mean...her wedding. It's her wedding and I have to get back inside." She briefly wondered how much time could have possibly passed crying in Lucas's arms and if maybe she had already missed the whole thing.

"Brooke's been told you came down with an extreme case of the stomach flu, and I'm taking you home."

"You don't have to do that, Chase. It's only a short walk. I'll be fine."

"I'm more worried about anyone who might see you. You look like the living dead Peyton. Mascara smudged all over your face, eyes swollen like a puffer fish, cheeks glossy with tears and lipstick residue."

"Oh God..." Peyton moaned.

"You should see what you did to Lucas," Chase murmured, "It looked like he had been attacked by a hose and a horny secretary all at once."

"Oh God!" Peyton gasped, covering her mouth. "I have to go back inside. I need to apologize to Lucas and explain to Lindsey-"

"Leave that to Lucas, Peyton. It's not your job to meddle-"

"But I-"

"He's the one that let you. He could've come and gotten one of us after you broke down, but he chose to spend an hour soothing you-"

"An hour?"

"It might have been less," Chase assuaged.

Peyton let out a groan. "I feel like shit, and I'm going to hell."

Chase let out a snort of disbelief, "Yeah you're totally right. I remember hearing that hell was for single mothers who break down once every ten years."

"Shut up, Chase."

"That's more like it. Less pity party, more bitchiness. Make Brooke proud."

Peyton just grumbled and curled up in her seat. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, but most of all she was disappointed. The first time she had seen Lucas in seven years and she couldn't even remember how it ended.

How appropriate for them.

--

For a writer, he wasn't very good with words.

Maybe that was why he had given up writing.

All he knew for sure was that one look at his appearance in the bathroom mirror and he knew there was no way he would be able to explain this to Lindsey. The only option he had was to go to back to the hotel. Nathan offered to give him a ride and he had accepted. Haley, in the meantime, was creating alibis for both him and Peyton. He wondered if anyone actually believed them.

He wondered why he didn't care either way.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the passenger's side window. Across the parking lot, he could see Chase lowering Peyton into his SUV. She was still crying and every inch of his body begged for him to get out of the car and pull her back into his arms.

But this wasn't high school and it most definitely wasn't a fairy tale. There was such a thing as consequences, and he felt the presence of the gold band around his finger more so than ever in that moment. There was a thin line that he and Peyton were towing and he couldn't cross it. For her sake. For Lindsey's sake.

Most of all, for Peyton's daughter's sake.

"Don't even think about it," Nathan warned.

"I'm not," Lucas sighed.

"Sure you're not."

"I know the rules, Nathan," Lucas whispered, turning his head away from the window.

"It's not about rules, Lucas. It's about true love and marriage and how you can't have one without the other. And I just find it really fascinating how you manage to have both but with two different women."

"Nathan, I-"

"Don't," Nathan said cutting Lucas off, "I just don't want to hear it, Luke. You can't talk you're way out of this one. I saw you tonight. And you're actions have always spoken twenty times louder than your words. The way you acted in there, there's not a doubt in my mind that you're not over her, and you never will be."

"I'm a married man."

Nathan let out a mirthless laugh. "You were always good at avoiding the question. 'I'm with Brooke now.' 'Lindsey's my wife.' 'Peyton and I are just friends.' None of those are reasons for why you sure as hell act like you're in love with Peyton Sawyer."

It was at that moment they pulled up in front of the hotel.

Nathan sighed, "Listen, Luke, I know-"

"I'm in love with Peyton Sawyer," Lucas said, "I'm in love with her as much as I was the day she turned down my proposal, as much as I was when I proposed to Lindsey and when I said I do to her. As much as the day I woke up in that hospital and saw her face staring back at me. My love for Peyton is something I've never doubted or wavered on even when her love for me has been questionable. "

"You don't get it one bit, and I can't expect you to. You always knew Haley loved you. When she went on tour she didn't even last five months without you, and when she came home she worked her ass off to make sure that you knew how much she loved you."

"With Peyton and me, it's never been like that. When we hurt each other, we hurt each other hard and we get scarred and we run away. It's what we do best. And right now, we're running. It's been almost a decade of running."

"So I won't pretend for one second that I don't try my hardest to bury my love for her sometimes. Yes, Nathan, I do avoid the question because it just makes life easier."

"Because the truth is I'm not happy, but I do not need everyone and their brother telling me about how I'll never be happy until I just let Peyton back in. It's something I'm well aware of. I said I do. I let her go and I let her marry someone else and have their child. And right now there are too many obstacles to overcome and too much damage to undo. It's not feasible."

Lucas stopped and rubbed his eyes again. He felt a major headache coming on.

"It's sad to hear that Luke," Nathan said quietly, "Because I know who you are Lucas, and if anything you are a born fighter. I've seen you fight stupid battles where your heart truly wasn't in it, and I've seen you fight for things that you know you wouldn't be able to win but that you fought anyways because it was the right thing to do. You don't back down and you don't lose hope that's why I find it so difficult to understand why when you come face to face with Peyton, suddenly you can't step up to the challenge. It's almost as if you're trying to be something you're not."

"Yeah? What's that?" Lucas muttered.

"A scientist," Nathan said, and seeing Lucas's incredulous look, he continued, "All logic and probability and no heart whatsoever."

"There's nothing wrong with weighing the facts when making decisions, you know. It's the smart thing to do."

"It's playing safe. It's cold and calculated."

"Scientists have heart," Lucas argued.

"Prove it, Lucas. Reconcile the two."

Lucas just stared at his younger brother. He was the epitome of a happy man; loving wife and a handful of beautiful children. He had a good heart and he was way too wise for his own good. Lucas couldn't help but grin.

"I'll keep it in mind, Nathan," he said getting out of the car. He bent down so that he could speak through the open window. "Hey Nate."

"Yeah?"

"Did she love him?"

"Did who love who?"

"Did Peyton love her husband?"

"It didn't hold a candle for how she felt about you."

"Now who's avoiding the question?"

Nathan sighed, "Yeah, she loved him."

"Was he good to her?"

"That's something you got to ask her, but I never saw him be anything but loving to her."

"Huh."

"Don't go getting a complex," Nathan muttered, "She still loved you more."

"Yeah," Lucas shrugged, "I'll see you later."

"Hopefully," Nathan mumbled under his breath as he watched Lucas enter the hotel room.

--

Peyton felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She stared at the ceiling, willing herself as much as possible to get some sleep, but to no avail. She kept thinking of all the terrible things that had happened to her in the past. The bad memories played on repeat like a slideshow gone wrong. The only way to make them stop was to think of what Lucas had said, or maybe how he had said it. The smooth and sweet cadence of his voice in her ear.

But then not long after she focused on that, she realized how terrible it was to be finding comfort in a married man's voice and she had to shake her thoughts, and she was back at the start thinking of how miserable and messed up her life was.

"Mommy!"

Peyton sat up as quickly as possible, knocking the covers off her body, happy as ever to hear her daughter's voice.

"Hey baby!" Peyton said, hiding the shakiness in her voice well, "How was the rest of the wedding?"

"It was fine. Auntie Haley wanted to know if you wanted her to come in and make us tea."

"No, I'm fine."

"I'll go tell her and then I'll come back and tell you all about the wedding!" Maggie darted off and before it seemed Peyton had any time to catch her breath, Maggie was back.

"That was fast," Peyton chuckled.

"I have so much to tell you," Maggie said climbing up onto the bed, "Guess who caught the bouquet?"

"Who?"

"Jenny"

"Whoa! Seriously? As in Jenny Jagielski?"

"Yes! And then guess who caught the gardener?"

"Heh. You mean garter?"

"That's what I said," Maggie said, putting her hands on her hips, "Now do you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Jamie."

"Jamie caught the garter?"

"Yes and he had to dance with Jenny and it looked really, really funny," Maggie giggled.

"I'm sure it did."

"Mommy, who was that man with you in the hallway?"

"What?" Peyton said, taken off guard. She pulled herself up a little so she could look her daughter in the eye.

"The man who was standing with you out in the hallway. I didn't see much besides the back of his head before Natalie chased me back inside to play tag, and then I didn't see him at all after that."

"You mean Lucas?"

Maggie shrugged. "Auntie Brooke kept pointing at him during the first dance and calling him bad names."

"Well then it was probably Lucas."

"Do you like him?"

"He's a good man," Peyton nodded, "Why do you ask?"

"Usually you and Auntie Brooke hate the same people."

"Luke's different."

Maggie seemed to debate this in her head. "I like him."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you like him," Maggie said, but before Peyton could respond she changed the subject, "Hey mommy, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling fine."

"Then can we watch The Little Mermaid."

"It's way past your bedtime, missy."

"Plllllease," Maggie begged.

"Fine," Peyton sighed, "Go get it."

"Yay!"

Peyton watched her daughter go and smiled. Margaret Drew Sawyer would always be the reason she kept on smiling even when there was nothing to smile about.

--

She didn't know what to expect when she got back to the hotel room. She wasn't born yesterday, and so when she noticed that both Peyton and Lucas had left the wedding reception with questionable alibis both given by Haley, Lindsey assumed the worst, especially when she watched Brooke smirking up a storm when Haley gave her the news personally as though this was part of some master plan she had devised. As soon as she thought of what plan Brooke could have thought of, her mind immediately lingered toward sex. Sex in her hotel room. Between her husband (because as much as they had drifted apart he was still hers) and Peyton Sawyer, the love of his life.

So when she found him typing away at his computer, eyes locked on the screen and headphones pumping in what must have been classic Dashboard Confessional, she didn't know whether she should be slightly relieved or just plain puzzled. Instead she felt hurt, because the sight in front of her was more painful than she could have imagined.

She almost wished she would have caught him and Peyton in bed together. Physical desire and passion hurt, but it was definitive. A sign of the bond Lucas held with Peyton. These cryptic clues that Lucas left instead made her feel as though she was going insane.

He only wrote when he was in close proximity to Peyton. She was his muse, and unending source of inspiration. She knew it in her heart but whenever she opened her mouth to say it, the word 'coincidence' sprung to her head. She knew Lucas well. She knew he would insist that's all it was. Because he played the game all too well.

Frustration boiled over in her, and through the haze of hurt and anger, she had what some might almost call a moment of clarity. She remembered the passage in Luke's first book, the one about how he and Peyton had found their way back to each other. She remembered Lucas's own moment of clarity.

She remembered the painful few chapters before it about Lucas pining for Brooke about how Peyton stood patiently on the sidelines. She remembered how much it frustrated her that those two couldn't see that they were meant to be.

And then she remembered how it was Brooke who finally convinced Lucas that it was okay to go after Peyton. She had reminded him that when all his dreams came true, Peyton was the one he wanted next to him. She remembered rationalizing it in her head. It had taken Lucas and Peyton far too long to see it, but Brooke, Brooke saw it first. Brooke was the one who had questioned everything Lucas said or did. She had been weary of Lucas and Peyton's friendship from the very start of her own relationship. It wasn't insecurity, but truth, bitter truth.

And history had repeated itself with her.

She felt like Brooke because she was Brooke. She was not a roadblock or an obstacle but a northern star. It was her job to finish this chapter of the story. She had to guide Lucas home because he was too stubborn and too proud to do it himself. Just like Peyton was too caring and too moral to hurt someone else with her love.

Brooke hated Lucas to this day because he still couldn't see it. And Lindsey understood that it had to be her job to make sure he finally did.

"Do we even need to talk?" Lindsey sighed.

Lucas finally noticed her presence and pulled the ear buds from his ears. He took in her angry stance and let out a sigh of his own, "Probably."

"I'm not stupid," Lindsay said, "I know you're still in love with her. I know that the reason you left the wedding tonight somehow has to do with her and even if it wasn't anything that oversteps the lines of adultery. It matters all the same."

"Lindsey-"

"We've been over for awhile, Lucas. And I'd like to keep what little dignity I have left by being the one to end this marriage. So I'm going to drive to the airport, fly back to New York and I will mail you the divorce papers along with your belongings. And in a couple months, you can send me that book of yours."

Lucas gaped at her, the words she spoke, seemingly light years away from what he expected. "You want to end a seven year marriage just like that?"

"Are you seriously going to fight me on this? Are you going to lie to my face and pretend that you are happy? Well it doesn't matter, because I'm not! I'm not happy Lucas! Because as much as I love you, I know that I'm not enough. I was a fool to think differently. I read the book Lucas. I know the story by heart. It's still the same question after all these years, Luke. When you're dreams come true, who do you want standing next to you? I can bet you a million dollars it's not me."

"I don't know what to say," Lucas said honestly.

"For a writer, you always did suck with words," Lindsey said.

"Lindsey, I...I never meant to hurt you, and I truly did believe that we could be happy."

"But we're not," Lindsey said softly, "We haven't been for awhile. To make me happy, you had to change who you were just so you could live with yourself. You gave up writing and I watched you die a little inside each day you lived without it. I walked into this hotel room tonight expecting to see you happy, and I was right...even if I did get the details wrong."

"I know it's no consolation, but I wouldn't do that to you. Peyton wouldn't either."

"I know," Lindsey nodded, "And it kills you to have to deny yourself it. It shouldn't be that hard."

"So it's really over?"

"Yeah, it is," Lindsey said. She went to her armoire and grabbed her bags out, still packed. She had hoped for a quick retreat from Tree Hill, just not this quick.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until the morning before you go?"

Lindsey just shook her head, gathering the few things she had left around the room.

"Can I at least drive you to the airport?"

"I'll grab a cab. You get back to writing."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I wasn't kidding about wanting that book in a couple of months."

Lucas smiled. "Okay, then. I just hate watching you go like this."

"It's better than me kicking and screaming," Lindsey said. She opened her arms and Lucas stepped forward, embracing her for the last time, taking in every bit of her and realizing that she had given him an out.

Another chapter of his life closed.

He sighed and glanced out the window of his hotel room. He could see the lights at Rivercourt flicker and his mind immediately shifted to Peyton.

A new chapter was beginning too.

He hated thinking that with his soon to be ex wife not more than inches away but then, it was that kind of thinking that was what made her his ex wife.

"Out of curiosity," Lindsey said shaking him from his thoughts, "What's this next book going to be about?"

Lucas smiled, recalling the conversation he had earlier.

"It's about a scientist and a comet."