A/N: Merry Christmas a couple days late! And happy holidays in general. This chapter's a little shorter than my usual ones, and this is by no means the end of the conflict, but I wanted to get an update up because you guys are the world's best readers, no contest. Reviews make great little belated presents. :P Read away.
Nachtmusik: German for "night music"; usually describes a serenade, the best known of which is one of Mozart's
They stayed at the river court for hours, until the early summer sun began its rise. Neither of them had a daughter to get home to on that particular moment, but the sun beamed down on them, exposing them, and they both interpreted it as a warning that they better get up and go home.
Wordlessly, Lucas stood and offered her his hands. The sun glared into her eyes as he pulled her to her feet. Her elbows were bruised and her lips were tingling; she knew without looking at herself that she was starry-eyed.
She'd walked to the court, so he drove her the short distance home in his SUV. There was a picture taped to the dashboard, of a precious little girl with a perfect pout and pretty brown eyes. Brooke's clone, and undoubtedly Lucas' daughter. Guilt tugged at her heartstrings. She had to say something, anything, even if it was just, she's beautiful, Luke. She had to acknowledge the reality of things.
But when she looked over at him, he looked straight back at her, their eyes locking, and she just couldn't.
"It was stupid, okay? You're with Brooke now."
"Yeah."
"We just…we got carried away. It didn't mean anything."
"It didn't?"
"Of course it did."
She didn't have it in her to regret it now, no more than she had then.
Some things really never did change.
He walked her to the stairs and kissed her in the doorway of her apartment until she giggled like a sixteen-year-old. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes seriously before speaking for the first time in hours: "I never want to go that long without touching you again."
She sank into one last blissful kiss, powerless after those words, before he pulled away, flashing a gentle smile that promised that they would find away to make this work.
"I'll be seein' ya."
She nodded and tripped backward into her apartment, just as tongue-tied and worried and in love as she'd been all those years ago.
Sleep seemed like the most logical move. She'd been up all night and she knew that, despite the way her body was buzzing, she was exhausted.
If she got into bed she'd never be able to get to sleep. Her minds itched and her mind raced as her eyes scanned her living space. She spotted a paintbrush and smiled.
-x-
Lucas felt like whistling for the briefest moment as he walked through his doorway and tossed his keys on the table. He shook his head at his own silliness and bit back a smile.
"Hey, you."
He literally jumped a foot off the ground at the sound of his wife's voice. "He-hey," he stuttered, feeling idiotic and stereotypical and very much caught.
Her smile was tired and tight. She didn't move; rather she waited in the living room for him to come to her, legs crossed primly and hair tumbling onto her shoulders.
"You're back early," he said, as casually and as happily as he could.
"Where's my daughter?" she asked simply, arching an eyebrow.
He frowned as an uncomfortable chill rushed down his spine. "Our daughter is at Nathan and Haley's for the night. She wanted to see her cousins."
"Right. Okay."
He walked over to her. "I didn't expect you home so soon. Did your meetings go well?"
She looked up at him and shook her hand of so slightly, but he knew that that movement corresponding with an internal thought, not with the answer to the question he'd asked her. "Where've you been all this time?"
"What time did you get here?"
"Stop that," she ordered, and he knew why; she'd always hated it when he answered questions with questions. He did it playfully from time to time, just to annoy her. "Where were you?"
"The river court."
"Right, right…I saw you there, when I was driving home."
He swallowed hard, fighting off the déjà vu. Peyton had been this person last time. He didn't know how to be in this moment. He didn't even know if he could look at his wife.
"When?" he asked quietly.
"About the time you were making out with Peyton." She shrugged as though it meant nothing, but her eyes were shooting daggers at him and her voice was hostile.
He sank down in the chair across from her, keeping a safe five feet between them. "Brooke…"
"You are such a coward," she spit out. "If I hadn't called you on it, what would you have done? Just left it? Pretended it never happened? Continued to make a total fool out of me?"
"Brooke, no," he tried again.
"Sometimes I don't know, Luke," she said, cutting him off. "If you've been making a fool out of me for the past week…or if it's been for the past few years."
"Brooke, please…"
"I just don't understand." The slightest bit of desperation leaked into her voice, but her eyes stayed free of tears. "How long have you been in love with her? Forever?"
"No," he said fiercely, because she couldn't believe that. He stood at an altar with her, said I do and he meant it, damn it. He doesn't ever want her to think otherwise.
"Were you just waiting with me?
"No, Brooke," he said forcefully. He didn't want her to cut him off again. "I love you." She scoffed, and he frowned. "I do. I always have, and in a lot of ways I always will."
"And Peyton?" she challenged him bitingly.
"I guess it's…I guess it's the same thing."
"But in a different way."
He couldn't answer her. But he didn't have to. He knew, she knew. And in a lot of ways, they always had.
"Do you hate me?" he asked softly. He could understand it if she did, but because he did love her, he didn't want her to. He'd never wanted it to come to this. He wanted to blame Peyton for coming back, to blame Brooke for lying to herself, but in the end it was really all his own fault.
She just looked down.
"I mean…you're mad. I know you're mad, it's understandable that you're mad, and –"
Brooke shook her head and cut him off, looking up and staring deeply, sadly into his eyes. "I'm not mad, Lucas," she said simply, echoing her words from the Naley wedding, the day that had started and ended so many things. "I'm not mad."
He looked back, trying to convey all the apologies he could through his eyes. She broke their locked gaze first and stood up, snatching up her coat and slipping her arms into the sleeves. "I can't be here with you right now," she hugged as she picked up her purse and made her way for the door.
"Brooke," he sighed, and realized that he hadn't said much since he'd arrived home besides her name.
"The words 'vicious cycle' just mean more and more to me everyday," she sighed, using a fake, syrupy voice. "I am done, Lucas," she said tiredly, placing one hand on the doorknob. "I always blamed Peyton just a little bit more, because she was my best friend, and when you hurt me she was supposed to be there for me, not be a part of it. I told her, a few days ago, that we couldn't be friends if you and I were going to stay together. But no matter what I do, you both betray me, and what am I left with? Nothing. I'm the one who always gets screwed over, and I am so fucking over it. We're getting a divorce."
His heart leapt into his throat and he jumped up. "Brooke, no, wait –"
She sighed heavily and shook her head again, looking at him incredulously, clearly more than disappointed. "Look me in the eye and tell me that's not what you want."
He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his eyes fell to stare at his shoes.
"That's what I thought," she whispered, and when he looked up again, she was gone.
-x-
Peyton was kicked out on her comfy white couch in the apartment over Tric, lazily sketching away with a small smile on her lips. She'd painted the entire room again, a kind of abstract representation of a sunset over the ocean. Every time she looked at her walls she had to bite back a goofy grin. Her blues were bluer and her pinks were pinker again.
"Hey." Her eyes shot up to find Brooke standing in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"Hey," she responded softly, setting her sketchpad to the side. The scenario reeked of a similar scene many moons ago.
Brooke jutted her chin out, gesturing to the walls. "This is gorgeous."
"Thanks," Peyton said, keeping her tone muted as she searched Brooke's face for some sort of clues as to what she knew and what she was feeling.
"You'd have to be happy to paint something this beautiful."
Peyton could only nod, figuring it would be best to wait out Brooke's small talk so they could just move on to the bitch-slapping and incredulous yelling that she knew she deserved.
Brooke sniffled and looked down. "Damn, this feels like high school all over again."
"Brooke," Peyton said quietly, unable to find the words for the apology she owed her best friend.
"God, Peyton…" she muttered, taking a few steps further into the room. Peyton sat upright, prepared to take her fury. "I gave you a second chance, and another…I gave you so many chances to just let me have my boy, but you never could." Tears pooled in her brown eyes as she looked at Peyton with a sort of resigned bitterness. "You always fucked it up…and he always let you," she choked out.
"Brooke," she said again immediately, her heart in her voice.
Her old friend marched across the room, and Peyton braced herself for a slap, but Brooke simply sat next to her, much closer than she would have expected from the angry brunette. "I was so mad today, at both of you, while I thought about it, and then I realized that it'd always been the two of you, I just didn't want to see it. No matter how much I yell or scream or how many times I slap you, that's not going to change."
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know that it seems stupid or…hurtful to tell you that I didn't ask for this, Brooke, but really, I didn't. I swear to you, and I really am sorry."
Brooke nodded briskly, wiping away her tears. "I know you are. You chose Jake for me. You chose him because you loved him, but also because you knew you couldn't love Lucas. And I was the reason for that. God, I was so stupid to ask you to come and watch me marry him."
"I would have, Brooke," Peyton told her honestly. "I just…"
"You couldn't. I know."
"Yeah."
Brooke pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I need to let him go."
Peyton's breath caught in her throat. "Wh…what?"
She swallowed hard. "I got a lot of things out of my marriage with Lucas. Somebody to support me with Clothes over Bro's, a perfect little girl, and someone who loved me. A big house and an idyllic life. Maybe sometimes I feared that I was his second pick, but in the end it didn't matter because I was his pick. I hid there," she shrugged. "I hid in my marriage because I was afraid of living big." She grimaced. "I guess now I can, huh?"
"Brooke," Peyton breathed in amazement, not sure if she could possibly be hearing what she was hearing.
Brooke's tears spilled down her cheeks. "Just take care of him, okay?" she got out, her voice clogged with the sobs that welled in her throat. "I know that you know him so much better than I do, I just want…he's such an ass sometimes, but I…I want him to be good."
"I'm so sorry," Peyton said simply, though the words were packed with meaning.
Brooke nodded but didn't respond.
"He'll be good," she assured her friend gently, tears gathering in her own green orbs. "And you'll be good. You're amazing, Brooke. It's okay to be afraid, and it's okay to need people, but you could conquer the world blindfolded and with your hands tied behind your back. And you're going to. What…what you're doing for me right now…I don't want to ask you to make this sacrifice, but you are, and I owe you forever, so don't be scared to call in any favours. I would give up my happiness for yours, if you asked me to." She bit her lip as a single tear escaped her right eye. "I love you, B. Davis. Always have, always will, and I have never meant to hurt you. I regret it every time I do."
Brooke's face crumpled. "I really hate you right now."
Peyton nodded in understanding, and then gathered her best friend into her arms comfortingly and let her cry.
