A/N: So, here's the next chapter. Sorry for the bit of a longer wait. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. I wish I could reply to them all in a pm but can only do that with the signed in reviews. But I do want to say thank you to all guests and unsigned reviews as well as the signed in ones. You all rock.
...
Nathan sat back in his recliner chair and took a long, deep swallow of his beer, heaving a deep sigh afterward. He was a little buzzed, extremely bored, and more than a little lonely.
He'd been back in L.A. four weeks now, and though the days weren't so bad with either practice or a game or weight training to keep him occupied, the evenings and nights were torture. Every night back to his apartment without a soul to talk to except for the few minutes he'd video chat with Haley and/or Jamie.
He couldn't take much more of this silence. He was going stir-crazy, alone with only his thoughts for company.
He was tired of thinking. It wasn't getting him anywhere. His head was as much a mess now as it had been when he'd left Tree Hill. Perhaps even more so since meeting his new agent and being told Clay no longer wished to represent him. When he gave his friend a call for an explanation, all he would say was that he couldn't work for a man he didn't respect anymore. And that was that. When Nathan next asked him why he'd called Haley the previous day, he'd simply stated that they were friends. Nathan didn't buy it and had tried to push it, but Clay wouldn't say anymore.
He shook his head and took another drink, trying not to think about it. He wished he had something stronger to drink. Wished he could get out of his head for just a little while. Wished someone, anyone, would drop by and keep him company.
He hated being alone. It was the one downfall of playing in the NBA and not joining his teammates at the parties, whether they be victory parties, or consolation parties. A few hours to himself was one thing—that he could appreciate—but the constant alone time was driving him mad.
Why had he been glad neither Peyton nor Haley had come with him again? Oh yeah, so he'd have time to think. Idiot. He was starting to believe that thinking was overrated.
He missed Peyton. She should be here now like she was supposed to. He understood why she couldn't, but still he missed her. He missed her presence, her teasing laugh, and, of course, the sex. When he'd first come back to L.A. he'd secretly hoped that this time away from her would cure him of this obsession he seemed to have for her.
But that didn't happen. At least not yet, and there was only two weeks left before he'd return to Tree Hill for the off-season. He didn't figure the next two weeks would clear his mind of her either.
He'd taken the liberty when he'd gotten here to go to her hotel room and pack up her things, and send them off to Tree Hill. He kind of expected her to call him and thank him for that and then he'd at least get to talk to her, if not see her. But she didn't call.
He'd called her a few times, but she never answered. He hadn't spoken to her since the day he'd left her father's house a month ago, and he found himself constantly wondering how she was holding up.
He learned from Haley that a temporary order for custody had been awarded to Lucas until a final order could be granted, which could sometimes take months. He knew Peyton must be devastated over that, especially since, until they went back to court, access was temporarily at the sole discretion of Lucas who, of course, was still being a complete dick about it. Seriously, Nathan thought, what was Luke's problem? He couldn't possibly think keeping Sawyer from her mother was the best thing for her.
He grabbed his cell phone, and put a call through to Peyton's cell, feeling that familiar tug to talk to her. But again it went to voicemail so he hung up, sighing in aggravation. Why wouldn't she pick up for him? Damn it, he could sure use one of their fantasy stories right now. He figured she could probably use it more.
If only she'd answer her damn phone.
...
Her cheeks stained with tears, Peyton checked her ringing cell phone. Nathan. Again.
She shook her head, a big part of her wanting to answer because she missed him terribly, but a bigger part of her—the angry, resentful part of her—wouldn't allow her to. That part wanted only for him to suffer.
Because she was suffering. She'd given everything to him, risked everything for him.
And lost.
It had all been for nothing. He'd claimed to love her four weeks ago, but had still gone back to Haley as she'd predicted. Sure, he'd finally shown her some vulnerability and true affection, for which she'd been glad for at the time, but it was of little consolation to her now.
She'd ended her marriage, lost her best friend, and was on the verge of losing her daughter too. All because she'd had an affair.
Meanwhile, Nathan, who'd partook in and enjoyed the same affair, suffered no consequences for it. He was living his life as per usual while hers was falling apart.
It wasn't fair. They'd committed the same sin, but only she paid for it. He got away with it unscathed for the simple reason that, unlike her, he'd kept his mouth shut. Well, she could have done that too. Maybe she should have kept quiet. Then Lucas wouldn't be so angry at her and it wouldn't be a month since she'd laid eyes on her daughter.
She couldn't help thinking the punishment outweighed the crime. Yes, she'd done wrong, but she never ever thought she could lose her daughter for it.
Her attorney told her not to worry. That custody and visitation rights were not based on problems within the marriage, but rather were decided solely in the best interest of the child. Whatever had caused the marriage to dissolve or break down was of no great concern unless unfit parenting was at the root of it—if one parent, or both, were a threat or danger to the child. Because Peyton was neither of those, her attorney had no doubt she'd be granted, at the very least, visitation. She'd assured her with supreme confidence that Lucas' no access attempt would not fly in the court of law. He would have to prove her unfit to stand a chance at winning that battle.
Peyton had been glad for that bit of good news, but even still, like her lawyer had stated, it could take months to get back in court for the final order. How long before she saw Sawyer again?
And there would be a hearing. Lucas had made sure of that by refusing to compromise during the mediation session advised and set up by their lawyers for earlier today. Despite his lawyer's advice, and the mediator's as well, Lucas would not budge on any of the child custody/access issues.
The mediator had told him then and there that a permanent 'no access' order was next to impossible to get, but still he wouldn't agree to anything. He was dead set on full custody, no access. Anything less than that was out of the question. And the mediator was only there to, well, mediate. ..to encourage compromise and see if the couple could come up with some type of agreement. He did not, however, have the authority to force decisions so Luke's refusal to meet in the middle was out of his hands.
So all Peyton could do now was wait. Or, at least that's what her lawyer advised her to do. That is not what she would do though. Her life was in shambles, she was breaking to pieces, and she needed to see her daughter. A month was already too long. She'd go to Lucas and get to the bottom of this herself. Plead with him if she had to.
Because she couldn't take a second more of this separation from her little girl.
...
Lucas put Sawyer to bed and made his way downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes he'd left until now.
As he did so, his thoughts went over the day. When he'd been granted temporary custody of Sawyer nearly three weeks ago now, he'd been elated, but seeing Peyton in court, he had to admit, had been hard.
Seeing her today at mediation hadn't been any easier. If only he could turn off his heart to her. But he couldn't. Despite what she'd done, he loved her still, and seeing her face to face tore at his soul bit by bit. He welcomed the anger when it came. It was his best defense against the heartache her affair had evoked.
Yes, he knew he was being impossible and un-cooperative—as his lawyer put it—but he didn't care at this point. He completely understood what his lawyer and the mediator both said—he wasn't going to win the 'no access' bit, but for now, he had sole discretion, and he was just mad enough to let that play out until he wasn't allowed anymore. Let Peyton feel some of that excruciating pain he was feeling for a while. After all, she was the one to have an affair and deserved to suffer more, or at least as much, as he did.
Maybe he was being spiteful as he'd been told, but didn't he have a right to be? Peyton had torn their family apart. Why should she get all she wanted now?
He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and he went over to it. And there stood the object of all his problems lately. His stomach twisted into knots as his mouth formed a thin, uncompromising line. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone like acid.
Peyton drew in a sharp breath at the rage that was evident on both his face and in his tone, and her heart began to race frantically. It had been weird to ring the doorbell of the house she and Lucas had shared, but that was nothing compared to the anxiety filling her entire being that facing her soon-to-be ex-husband caused within her.
But she was here now, and she wasn't leaving until she got what she came for. With another deep breath, she steeled herself for what was to come. "I want to see Sawyer," she said, the tremor in her tone impossible to hide.
"She's asleep," he answered snidely.
She figured that. That was why she'd come now, so the innocent little girl wouldn't be caught in the middle of her parents' battle. "I mean I want in her life," she said. "Starting tomorrow, maybe. I could come pick her up," she said hopefully. "You could get some writing done," she added for good measure.
"My mind's not been into writing lately," he answered resentfully.
Her face fell at the implication of his statement. Yeah, it was her fault he couldn't focus on his book. But there was nothing she could do about that now. She couldn't exactly take back the affair, and she wasn't sure she would if she could, despite her resentment for Nathan at the moment, unless losing Sawyer permanently was the consequence for that. "Ok, well, you don't have to write," she replied. "You could, I don't know, go for a walk, or shoot some hoops, see a movie or...anything you want."
"What I want is for you to stay away from us," he snarled. "You've caused enough damage as it is."
"I'm not going to stay away, Lucas," she said firmly. "She's my daughter. You can't keep her from me."
"Actually, I can," he countered. "For now anyway."
"Luke, I know you're still mad, but please stop this. I'm her mother. She needs me as much as I need her."
"She's actually been fine without you," Lucas argued. "She barely even asks for you anymore."
If he wanted to stab her in the chest with words, those were the words to do it with. Her heart plummeted to the ground, and she found it hard to breathe. Her worst fear was that by the time a final order could be issued, Sawyer wouldn't remember who she was.
As it stood now, her lawyer said a judge's decision would probably lean toward sole custody for Lucas with visitation rights for Peyton because Peyton had been the one to leave the matrimonial home—and hadn't taken Sawyer with her—leaving Sawyer in Luke's care, and because Luke had been taking care of her singularly for some time before that. Joint custody was still a possibility, but she wouldn't bet on it, her lawyer had told her.
The thought of that alone was bad enough, but the idea that Sawyer would forget her entirely was unbearable. If she was already asking for her less, as Lucas stated, then it was already starting to happen.
"Lucas, please," she begged, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I want to know her. I want her to know me."
The crack in her voice nearly made him give in. Nearly. But her cheating confession came back to mind strong. "You should have thought of that before stepping out on our family."
"What I did had nothing to do with Sawyer," Peyton returned desperately. "You're using her to punish me. You're dragging her into our marital problems."
"Marital problems I wasn't even aware we were having," he muttered, stone cold.
"I'm sorry!" she screamed. "I know I did a horrible thing, but sooner or later you're going to have to let that go and do what's best for Sawyer."
"I am doing what's best for her," he shouted back, anger burning within him. How dare she insinuate he was the selfish one here? "Two loving parents, together and happy," he said. "That's what's best for her. But thanks to you, she'll be forever robbed of that, so don't come here and tell me I need to think of her more. You're the one who ruined everything."
"Fine, I ruined your life," she acknowledged. "I don't know what more I can do besides apologize." At Luke's sneer she went on. "But Sawyer can still have two loving parents who are happy, but apart. She doesn't need to be pulled into our drama. It's up to us to make sure she knows we love her even if we're not together."
He frowned, furious at the sense she was making. He didn't want to give in to her. He didn't want to back down. And he certainly didn't want it implied that he was putting himself ahead of Sawyer, and at Sawyer's expense. He hadn't done anything wrong. He'd been a good husband and father. Why should he let his cheating wife make him feel otherwise?
Through gritted teeth, he replied. "There will never come a day that Sawyer questions my love for her. She is the most important person in my life, and I intend to show her that every day."
"All I'm saying is this will only affect her if we let it. Otherwise she's too young to understand any of this. So can we please not do this to her?"
He felt himself wavering and he cursed himself—and her—for it. "Like I said, she's been just fine without you," he said. "You're not here for Sawyer's sake," he accused. "You're here for yourself because you miss her and want to see her. She's the same as she's always been, minus a mother, but she's gotten pretty used to that."
"You can't just erase me from her memory, Luke," she cried out. "I won't let you. I will keep fighting you on this. My lawyer already told me you can't win this. No family court judge will stop me from being a part of my daughter's life unless I'm a threat to her in some way, and I'm not, Luke. You know I'm not."
He shrugged, a snarl on his face. They'd already covered this.
"She thinks I have a shot at joint custody," Peyton told him next. Okay, it was a slim chance, but a chance all the same.
Luke stared her down, his world shattering that much more at the idea of sharing custody with the woman he currently hated as much as he loved. He'd have to ask his lawyer what her chances were. "We'll see about that," he returned evenly. "Now get out. And don't come back here."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he nudged her out of the doorway and slammed the door shut.
On either side, both people slid to the floor, their world falling apart around them.
He was the first to stand up, egged on by his ever-growing fury. He couldn't do this. He had to be strong. He had an innocent two year old counting on him to take care of her. He neither had the time nor the luxury to indulge in self-pity. Sawyer was crying—another nightmare, he presumed. He had to go see to her.
Peyton didn't have his strength. She too heard Sawyer's cries—through the baby monitor downstairs—and the sound of it tore at the remaining pieces of a heart already shredded. Another nightmare, she guessed.
And then the wailing stopped. Lucas must have gone up to console her. Of course he did. Because he was a good father, despite Peyton's ill feelings toward him lately. He might hate her now, but he loved Sawyer. She didn't doubt that for a second.
But he didn't seem to understand that she loved her too, and couldn't stand being so excluded from her life like this. Oh, what she wouldn't do to go comfort her daughter too.
After several minutes, she finally stood to her feet, went to her car, and drove home—well, her childhood home. While there, she racked her brain to come up with ways to convince Lucas to let her back in Sawyer's life. Sure, the courts would likely eventually allow it, but she couldn't wait months for that to happen. She had to make Lucas realize that keeping mother and daughter apart was a mistake. Soon enough his hand would be forced, but she had to think of something sooner.
Again, she found herself resenting Nathan for all he still had. He could talk to or see Jamie whenever he wanted. Not that she would ever wish otherwise. It would kill him to be cut off from Jamie, and she wouldn't wish that on her worst enemy, let alone the man she still loved with every fibre of her being.
Her mind took her to the day before he'd gone back to L.A., when he'd brought up the fact that she'd loved three men besides him and basically called her flaky for it.
It was true she'd loved others before him, but he was wrong to place himself in the same category as them. With all three other men, they'd come into her life when she was down and basically in need of a "savior".
Lucas had saved her countless times, making her almost dependent on him. She'd loved him in a hero-worship kind of way, and it had been the strongest emotion she'd ever felt. She recognized it as the same emotions Nathan described of his love for Haley—she'd saved him too. Each time she'd lost Lucas she'd felt her heart ache. She was alone again with no one to save her.
Both Jake and Julian had, at different times, come on time to save her from the agony of losing her ultimate savior. And she'd loved them for it.
But with Nathan it was different. So very different. They'd happened when her life was going well—both their lives were. She had Lucas, her daughter, and a booming career just getting off the ground.
She was happy. Nathan hadn't been her savior. She hadn't needed one. Her feelings for him hadn't developed from a sense of gratitude. They'd come straight from her heart, honest and true. It was real. She knew the difference now. She'd loved the other three, yes, but it was as though her mind had compelled her heart to do so.
With Nathan her heart did all the talking, and her mind—that rational part that told her 'don't do it'—hadn't stood a chance. Her head told her how wrong it was, but her heart—and ok, her body—refused to listen.
And so instead of being her savior, he turned out to be the exact opposite. Her downfall.
Oh, but he tried to help her, he did. And it's not that he wouldn't rescue her if she needed him to. How quickly he'd given over his credit card to fight for Sawyer was proof enough of that. She needed his help now, and he gave it to her, financially, at least. But it hadn't been that way when they'd started.
She hadn't needed him then. She'd wanted him beyond comprehension. That attraction to him, or more so the fact she'd acted on it, ended up costing her dearly.
Because she'd fallen in love with him. Because she couldn't resist him. Hell, even in high school she'd had a hard time with that, always taking him back when he came begging for forgiveness. It seemed that hold he had on her had only gotten stronger with time.
She let out a deep, heavy sigh. She missed him. God, she did. He'd left a piercing ache in her chest as though a piece of her heart had been cut away from her. She hadn't seen or spoken to him in a month—only a few days less than last she'd seen Sawyer.
But this was the way it had to be. She had to let him go and focus all her energy on the custody battle and finding a job now that she'd let her career go. She did manage to get her old high school job at Thud back but it was only part time and didn't pay very well. She needed something else. She didn't have time to pine over a guy who'd decided to stay with his wife. Somehow she had to forget him.
Now if only he'd quit calling, it might be easier. In the first three weeks he was gone, she hadn't heard from him at all, but this last week he called or texted incessantly. What he wanted, she didn't know. Because she never answered/replied. She didn't even listen to his voice mails or read his texts. She couldn't bring herself to.
Didn't he see that over meant over?
Okay, probably not, and she had to admit that was partially her fault. Breaking it off permanently and then sleeping with him an hour later probably didn't suggest she was serious about the breakup.
But she was. It was just this stupid weakness to him that had made her react to him so. Damn him. If he wanted to stay with Haley, why couldn't he leave her alone?
Just as the question posed itself, her cell went off. Him again. She shook her head and pressed the ignore button.
Sooner or later, he'd get the picture. She hoped.
Because she was never going to get over him this way.
...
The next morning, she stepped out of her car and headed toward the 'Clothes Over Bros' entrance.
Throughout the night, she'd come up with the idea that talking to Brooke about her current predicament with Lucas might be helpful. Maybe she could get her to talk to him. It couldn't hurt, and the worst that could happen was that her best friend was still pissed at her and threw her out of her store.
That had been her logic last night. This morning, even. But now as she reached for the door handle, she hesitated, anxiety taking hold.
She shook her head. What was she afraid of? The answer to that came swiftly. She worried that Brooke still hated her. It wasn't easy to look at your childhood best friend and see only venom and disappointment in her eyes.
She gave her head another shake. She was here now so she may as well do what she set out to do. Besides, Brooke couldn't be angry forever. Could she? Lucas, sure. He was the betrayed one. But Brooke? Peyton certainly hoped she'd come around soon because, just as she missed Sawyer and Nathan, she missed her best friend.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her head of everything but her primary reason for coming to Brooke's store. She didn't have time for self-pity right now, nor could she waste any more of it worrying about what Brooke or Nathan felt for her. All of her focus had to be on Sawyer, she reminded herself.
With that in mind, she drew in another breath for courage and pushed through the entrance.
The last person she expected, or wanted to come across was Victoria Davis.
The older woman glanced up as the bell chimed in the store, indicating a customer. Her snooty expression indicated how little she thought—had always thought—of the woman who walked in. "Well, if it isn't my daughter's dependent little friend," was her greeting. "I suppose you're here for another favor?"
"Umm..." Peyton began and then faltered, her cheeks burning at the accuracy of Victoria's statement.
"What is it this time?" Victoria pressed in a bored tone. "Money? Or are you finally here to pick up your daughter and bring her home where she belongs?"
Peyton gazed at the woman in wonder. What did that mean? "Sawyer's here?" she asked.
"No," Victoria answered, none too impressed that Peyton didn't know that. "Brooke took her to some social activity of some sort for kids her age. Something you or that dreadful husband of yours ought to be doing. Lord knows how you two managed to create such a sweet, fun-loving little girl," she added with disdain.
Peyton didn't hear much of what was said after that, only that Sawyer was with Brooke somewhere. She didn't know why that should surprise her at all—Brooke loved Sawyer—but it didn't sit well with her. Maybe because she was being denied her daughter but Brooke could see her whenever.
"Try to remember Brooke has a company to run, will you?" Victoria continued in the same vicious tone. "She is not your nanny or your babysitter. You'd do well not to take advantage of her generous heart. I say this because I know Brooke never will."
Peyton didn't stay to hear the rest of the older woman's spiel. What was the point? Brooke wasn't here. She was with her daughter.
Her daughter.
She ran out of the store and jumped in her car, unwelcome tears pouring down her cheeks. It seemed all she did these days was cry.
Her cell phone went off before she even turned the key in the ignition. Blindly she snatched it out from her purse. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" she screamed, expecting to hear Nathan's apologetic voice on the other end. The last thing she needed right now was to hear how sorry he was.
But it wasn't him. It was actually even worse than him. Her manager in L.A. Make that her furious manager.
She listened despondently as the man carried on, at first trying to convince her to come back, and then, when it was clear she wasn't, came yet more problems to add to her existing ones.
Breach of Contract. She was going to be sued unless she returned and honored the conditions of the one year contract she had signed. At least that was the threat currently being shouted in her ear.
"Yeah, good luck getting a dime out of me," she shot back out of pure desperation. "Considering I don't have a penny to my name," she added before ending the call, no wish to hear his response.
She suddenly wished she were holding an old style land-line phone, just so she could slam the receiver down onto the hook with all her force. She settled for tossing her cell onto the passenger seat and pounding the hell out of the steering wheel.
How had everything gone from so good to so horribly wrong in so little time? She asked herself this, but she knew the answer. She'd confessed to an affair. She definitely should have played it like Nathan and kept her mouth shut. Then she would still have everything, including Nathan. Yet somehow she doubted Brooke would have let her off as easy as she did Nathan.
And for that she resented him just a little more.
...
She wasn't in any better a mood when Nathan called later that evening—really Nathan this time.
She picked up only long enough to tell him to stop calling her, hanging up before he could say a word.
But he called right back.
"Are you leaving Haley?" she asked upon picking up, rather than the customary greeting. It was really the only thing that mattered concerning the two of them now.
She heard him sigh. "Peyton..." he began.
Ugh, damn her stomach for fluttering at the sound of his voice. One word. Just her damn name and out came the butterflies. Damn him. "No?" she pressed. "Then stop calling me," she repeated and, once again, ended the call.
He called back. Again she answered. She didn't know why she put herself through the agony.
"Please don't hang up," he pleaded before she said anything. "Please. I just wanna talk."
She rolled her eyes and her tone was hard when she asked, "About what?"
"I don't know. Anything."
"Nathan, you have to stop this."
In L.A. he shut his eyes tightly at the harshness of her tone. "I can't," he said softly. "I miss you, Peyton. Can we please just talk? Did you get your stuff I sent?"
"Yeah, I got it. Thanks," she said dryly.
"Good," he said. "And how's the custody battle going?"
"Not good," she answered before breaking down and recounting to him all that had been happening in the last month. Truthfully, it felt good to talk to him about it for there was no one else she could talk to.
"So Luke's still being a dick," Nathan replied. No matter what anyone said to the contrary or how much Lucas denied it, it was clear to Nathan that his brother was using Sawyer to get back at Peyton.
And it was working. She was devastated.
She told him next about her old manager's threat to sue, and he told her about Clay quitting as his agent and said reason for it.
"So you're out an agent?" she wondered aloud.
"No. The agency gave me someone else. He's kind of a tool, but I don't know, he's supposed to be good so we'll see how it goes."
"Oh," she replied. So, his problem was solved just like that. She wished hers could be.
"Apparently, I am out a best friend though," he said sullenly.
"Join the club," she responded dryly.
"Yeah," he replied. "I'm sorry about that." And he was. Because Peyton and Brooke had been friends since childhood—much longer than him and Clay. "But I'm thinking you two will be ok eventually."
"We'll see," was all she said to that.
"So, look, I've been thinking alot..."
"About?"
"About telling Haley the truth."
"Right," she muttered. "Heard that before."
"I know," he acknowledged with another deep sigh. "But you know this isn't easy for me. Haley's..."
"The love of your life, mother of your son, your past and your future, I get it," she cut him off grimly. "She's perfect and you'd never leave her for someone as fickle as me who falls in love with everyone. Anything else to add? Cause, you know, I don't have enough going on right now so feel free to pile more on."
"I'm not trying to make things worse," he denied.
"Then stop lying to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Nathan," she replied in exasperation. "You're never going to tell Haley on your own. We both know that. You are lying. To me, and maybe even to yourself. So, do us both a favor and just stop. The last thing I need right now is to cling on to false hope. You can't keep stringing me along forever."
"I'm not..." he began and then let out a growl of frustration. "Look, I didn't call to fight, ok? Or to add to your problems. I just...I wanted to talk to you. I'm not lying about anything. I'm trying to be honest. Can you let me do that?"
"I'm listening," she replied begrudgingly.
He ran a hand over his face, the sense of defeat washing over him. She may be listening but it was easy to tell her guard was up and she wouldn't readily believe anything he had to say, no matter how honest or sincere he was being. Even so, he had to press on. "You said you were thinking about leaving Lucas for a while before you said anything to me about it."
"Yeah? So?"
"So, you didn't just up and decide to tell him. You took time to think about it, mull it over..."
"Nate..."
"But you don't want to give me time to do the same thing. You expect me to instantly decide when you couldn't even do that and you've been in love with two other guys besides Lucas. Three now, if you count me."
"What are you saying?" she asked frigidly. "That I should wait around forever for you to make a decision?"
"No. Not forever..."
"Well, how much time then? A week? A month? A year? How long is long enough?"
"I don't know...I..."
"Then no, I'm sorry, I can't do that."
"Ok, answer me one thing then," he said next. "Say I did leave Haley for you. And remember this is the woman I've been able to count on since I was sixteen, who's been through everything with me and has stuck around..."
"I don't want to hear this."
"How do I know you'd do the same?" he went on as though she hadn't interrupted. "And not leave me for someone else in a few years down the road?"
She might have told him right then the difference between her past loves and him. It might help to ease his obvious fear of future abandonment and lead him back to her willing arms for good. But she didn't do that. Instead, she let her anger take control. In her mind, he should see the difference for himself. He shouldn't have to be told. And she wasn't going to pour her soul out on the slim chance that he'd choose her over Haley. She'd done enough wishful thinking. It was time she faced, truly faced, reality. If the supposedly perfect couple 'Naley' ever split up, it would be Haley doing the splitting up, never Nathan.
It was that line of thought that prompted her cold response. "I guess you wouldn't."
He sunk lower into the cushion at her disparaging words, and he buried his head in his hands. He thought it was a legitimate question considering her history with men, but that wasn't the answer he was looking for. He wanted confirmation that the same wouldn't happen to him as with the other guys. That choosing her wouldn't be the biggest mistake of his life.
But she wouldn't give that to him. Maybe she couldn't give it to him, and if that were the case then he couldn't help thinking that her feelings for him couldn't be that strong. Certainly not as strong as Haley's.
"Is that all?" she asked, her tone cold and devoid of emotion.
"Yeah, I guess it is," he felt forced to say. She'd pretty much just made his decision for him.
"Ok," she replied with finality. "So then I'll say this again...don't call me anymore."
She hung up. He hung up. And they both crumbled in despair.
...
He went to her manager—ex-manager—before practice the next day with a generous cheque the man could not refuse. It was enough to cover the income they'd have generated from a new artist's sketches three times over. The guy looked at Nathan like he was a fool, but Nathan didn't care. He had money galore and Peyton didn't need any more troubles right now. This was the least he could do since the troubles she currently did have were half his fault. He only wished he could do more.
...
Haley entered her house later the same day and tossed her keys and stack of mail wearily on the counter. What a long day it had been. Her students had been all attitude for whatever reason and it felt good to be home where she could relax.
She was even glad that Dan was picking Jamie up at school today and bringing him back after dinner so the two could spend some time together. She knew some people, Lucas in particular, didn't approve of her and Nathan allowing Dan in Jamie's life, but they'd made their decision—after long deliberations and hearty discussions—and Jamie simply adored his grandfather. She was thankful he had him today since her students had left her in a bit of a mood. Hopefully by the time Dan brought Jamie home, she'll have relaxed enough to be in a better frame of mind for her son.
It helped that she didn't have to make dinner tonight. She could have a bag of potato chips for dinner if she wanted to—a luxury seldom afforded a responsible wife and mother like she.
Not that she was complaining. No. She loved her role in the household, she did. Just sometimes the monotony of it all could be stifling and even a little suffocating.
She smiled slyly and grabbed those potato chips as though she were a conspiring criminal. Grabbing the stack of mail on her way by, she went and sat on the couch, free of responsibility for the next two hours or so.
She rifled through the pile, tossing aside the junk mail to throw away when she got up again. Whenever that may be, she thought, almost giddily.
One particular envelope had her brows knitting in confusion and she set the others on her lap to pay that one closer inspection. A statement from the credit card company.
That in itself wasn't the weird part. Certainly they received those kinds of statements on a regular basis. Not so much by paper mail anymore since she did all of her banking online these days, but still, it wasn't so unusual to get a credit card statement. Except when it was from a credit card her husband said he'd gotten rid of a year ago.
She promptly opened the envelope, figuring it was probably an offer letter to increase their credit limit—a ploy often used by credit card companies to entice inactive customers back to their services—but was taken aback to find an actual bill inside.
Her eyes raked over the purchase column. One single purchase appeared, dated last month, for a thousand dollars. She shook her head. This was a mistake, obviously.
"McKay and Partners," she muttered absently. She knew of the place. It was a law firm situated in down town Tree Hill.
Her eyes narrowed quizzically. What the...?