Lucas groaned, his eyes were still closed and he didn't move a muscle. He felt another hit on the back of his leg, he groaned again. He turned around, seeing who was hitting him in the back of his leg. He saw Haley standing over top of him, her arms crossed and a disappointed look on her face. She didn't know what to say to home, maybe she would start by asking why he destroyed the house. Lucas turned back around, burying his face into his pillow. His head felt heavy and he had the worst headache. He should have second think about drinking the whiskey. Haley huffed, slamming Lucas on the leg again.
"Do you mind?" Lucas sharply looked back at her, Haley cocked her head and stared down at him. What we should have expected of him? He had just lost someone that he loved, she soon will be gone. He laid on his back, his eyes squinted as he looked at Haley. He focused on her, she didn't look like herself. Her eyes were swollen, her face was pale and her hair was in a messy bun but not cute kind. Lucas narrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why she looked this way. "What's going on?" Lucas swallowed, sitting up from the bed.
"You haven't been answering your phone, I've been calling you, I thought-" Haley explained to him, she wanted an explenation. Lucas couldn't just bail out of his life, he had responsibilities now. He had choices that he needed to make. Lucas chuckled, sitting up from the bed. He stared at the ground, having a slight smile on his face. He wondered what Haley thought, of course, the worst.
"That I killed myself?" Lucas glanced up at her, Haley paused. That was exactually what she thought, Lucas was a complete wreck yesterday. "I'm not there yet." Lucas stood up from the bed, losing his balance a little. Haley shook her head, she didn't think that it was fair.
"No, you don't get to do that," Haley pointed at him, following him into the kitchen. Lucas still had the slight smile on his face, he didn't care what she was saying because he was still going to feel this pain for the rest of his life. "You don't get to check out," Haley told him, she saw the dresser, wine on the ground and broken glass. "And what the hell is this?" Haley pointed at the ground. Lucas looked over with his eyebrows raised.
"That's my art work," Lucas said sarcasticlly. Haley was annoyed with Lucas, she didn't know why she was helping him. "What do you need Haley?" Lucas asked her, he rubbed his forehead as his headache began worse.
"To check on my best friend." Haley answered him, wondering what was going through his mind.
"I'm fine," Lucas assured her, his words were slow and his eyes were closed shut. He was a disastear. His heart was cold, he didn't care about anyone or anything right now. He didn't even care about his life. He was a little mad at Peyton for intruptting his dream that he was having of Brooke.
"Your fine?" Haley pointed at the shelf. "That's Brooke shelf! You don't get to do that!" Haley yelled at him. Lucas groaned, his head was pouding and he didn't want to hear Haley complain.
"This is my house, I do what the hell I want to do. Now get out." Lucas demanded, turning around. Haley slammed her foot on the ground and walked towards the door. She was going to keep trying with Lucas and she was going to get him back to himself.
"And Lucas," Haley told him, Lucas turned around with annoyed look on his face. "It's a boy." Haley snared, she quickly shut the door behind her. Lucas still didn't feel anything, he just didn't seem right to him that Brooke wasn't here. He wanted to feel something, he wanted to reach out to Haley but his own hatred and selfishness is stopping him from doing anything. Lucas walked back into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Lucas kicked his feet back under his bed and heard something move.
"What the hell?" Lucas asked himself, he slowly laid on his stomach on the floor. He looked under the bed, there was nothing but dust and a box. He was confused, he had never seen these boxes before. He pulled the box out, seeing what was inside. He laid against his bed, seeing the box full of letters. These must be his old letters, Brooke must have kept them but they weren't. He pulled one out, it was freshly new and it had a huge number one of the front of it. He was confused, he quickly opened it and saw the full page of Brooke's handwriting. She wrote this, and it must be new. He was confused about everything. HE sat there and started to read.
Lucas, If your reading this. It means that I'm dead, which sucks. I know that your probably mad, sad and feeling everything that I would probably feel if you've died. I know this isn't fair but it's life. And I lived a pretty good one, with you. It was filled with love, happiness and so much adventures. I wouldn't have asked for a better life or a better husband. This isn't your fault, Lucas. And Lucas, If you must morn, morn with our child under the stars where we had our first date...don't do it alone. I know our son...is our son. Sorry, I asked for the gender after we recieved the news. Name him Davis, It was my grandfathers name. Davis Haley Scott. Haley's been there for us. Also, I want Haley and Nathan to be the GodParents of Davis. If something happens to you, they would treat him like their own. So, your probably wondering what these letters are about. Since the day you asked me to marry you, I've been writing letters and when I've found out about my sickness, I started writing more letters. They're mostly about us. I need you to read them to Davis, every day, when he cries, he smiles, he opens his eyes, I need you to read these to him. Let him know that I've always been there, that I've always thought about him and loved him. Do this for me Lucas. Be there for him, every step of way. I have loved you until my heart stopped. I want you to know that. The moments with you Lucas Scott, were the best moment of my damn life. It was worth it. I was meant to love you. Tell my friends that I loved them. And I know that I will be holding you soon. You and Davis were my last thought, my last hope and love. I've lived, I've loved, Don't forget that. I love you, Lucas Scott.
Love, Brooke