A/N: Finally, another update! I promise I will finish this story, even if it takes way too long between chapters. I am so inspired by it but not enough hours in the day! I also so appreciate everyone who is still enjoying this story and I don't want to leave you open-ended either! You have been so supportive and I can't thank you enough for sticking with me. This chapter is pure Naley, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think and I'm really excited for what's to come.

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Chapter 32: A Tree Hill Raven always knows long days lead to long nights. And long nights lead to long talks. And long talks, well, they can lead anywhere.

The group stands in a line on the main path through campus. It's still, and tranquil, and dimly lit save for the few lampposts lighting the way. It's the type of calm only 3 AM can bring, preparing for the type of storm only 3 AM can bring.

Peyton, Brooke, and Haley are perched piggyback style on Jake, Lucas, and Nathan. The men hunch over, ready to race. The path before them is a straight shot to the alumni dorm.

"On your mark," Peyton starts. "Get –"

"I just want to point out what a bad idea this is," Haley chirps, cutting Peyton off.

"Nathan's insured, it's fine," Lucas jokes.

"Gee, thanks Luke," Nathan groans.

"I mean you remember when Brooke and I did this…" Haley continues.

"And broke your ass?" Nathan laughs. Haley slaps him playfully on the back.

"Tailbone thank you… and yes!" Haley whines.

"Our boys are big and strong Hales, they wouldn't drop us. Right Luke?" Brooke coos in his ear.

"I certainly won't drop you Pretty Girl," Lucas replies.

"OK, enough talkie, more walkie. Mama needs to go to bed," Peyton groans.

"You do need your beauty rest," Jake jokes. Peyton tugs hard on his ear.

"Count us down Sawyer," Nathan prompts.

"On your mark… get set… go!" Peyton hollers, her voice catching as Jake races forward against Lucas and Nathan. The men weave neck and neck through campus as the girls squeal in delight, holding on for dear life as competition ignites between them.

As they approach the residence hall, Nathan breaks out into a full speed sprint, pulling ahead of Lucas and Jake. When they reach the stairs of the residence hall, Haley cheers, throwing a hand in the air.

"Scott's still got it," Haley jokes, rubbing his chest with her other hand. Nathan laughs, continuing to make his way up the stairs towards the building's entrance.

"Big surprise the athlete wins," Jake jokes from behind, before noticing Nathan isn't stopping. "Hey, where ya going?"

"See you in the morning!" Nathan calls, before throwing the front door open.

"Some things never change," Brooke sighs in the distance as the door closes behind him.

Nathan smirks to himself, making his way up the first flight of stairs. He stops.

"Where to miss?" He jokes.

"Third floor," Haley replies, her pulse manic. She rests her head atop his as he walks them up to the third floor, letting her down gently onto the carpeted landing.

"Thank you sir," Haley notes, nervous, as she walks down the hallway to her room. Nathan follows, stopping as she reached a door halfway down the hall.

Haley squeezes her purse, her fingers tapping slightly along the strap. Nathan watches in amusement as she considers what comes next.

"So um, this is me," Haley observes, finally looking Nathan in the eye.

"You don't say," Nathan smiles.

"Oh shut up," Haley says, swatting him with her bag.

"You know, I don't have to come in," Nathan says. "We could end the night here."

"You said you wanted to talk," Haley points out.

"I do," Nathan agrees.

"That's what scares me," Haley admits, her lips twisting into a small smile. She watches as Nathan's eyes shift to her lips, then back to her eye line. With one final breath she leans back on the door and opens it.

The room is a mess. Haley runs over to a stack of bras, tossing them into her suitcase and shutting it, before grabbing a pile of tried-on clothes from the bed and throwing it into the closet. It wasn't spotless, but it was clean adjacent.

Nathan leans against the wall watching her panic. Finally, Haley turns to Nathan, her face red, and motions for him to sit towards the headboard. She takes a seat on the opposite corner at the foot of the bed.

"The girls gave me a little makeover," Haley admits as Nathan takes a seat across from her. "Not that I need it."

Nathan's eyebrows raise, he likes the confidence.

"But also not that I don't need it," Haley laughs. "I… I don't know. Brooke's idea. And you know Brooke."

"Haley?" Nathan says. She stops, looking at him, her eyes bright.

"Breathe," Nathan suggests.

Haley nods, calming her nerves. She brings her legs up in front of her, hugging them, before leaning her chin on her knees. "Hi."

Nathan lays down on his side, propping his head in his hand, "Hi."

"So, what do you want to know?" Haley asks, innocently.

Nathan leans back, laughing. "What don't I?"

"Probably a lot," Haley admits.

"I want to know everything Hales," Nathan says. "And I think I'm finally ready to."

Haley braces herself, bobbing her chin on her knee several times before finally speaking.

"My mom ambushed me at graduation. I was pulling her to come meet your family and she told me she left something in the car. When we got to the car, she told me everything. Your father had been reaching out since we got married, apparently," Haley admits, watching as Nathan's jaw clenches.

"And once he knew my family's situation, he offered to help get Dad out of his debts with the cartel and move his sentence to another state where it was safer. And I'll give him that… he did it," Haley sighs. "My parents are in New Hampshire. After my father was transferred, he was released on early parole a few years ago. They live a quiet life, in a small town, and have peace."

"But you don't," Nathan states.

"I'm alive," Haley states. "I should be grateful for that."

Nathan watches Haley, he knows she's telling the truth, but there's an edge in her voice – the faintest bit of anger.

"You don't have to give me the fairytale, Hales," Nathan pushes. "If there's one thing I know, it's pain."

Haley's face twitches, her eyes betraying her with unshed tears. She squeezes her legs a little tighter before speaking, "I know that my parents did what they thought was right. That their worst fear was me succumbing to my heart defect. But I can't help but think… was it worth it? My sister Quinn is under witness protection. Taylor goes where the wind takes her, as long as it's not home. And I can't look at my mother when I'm around her, so we keep our visits to birthdays and Christmas. They gave up everything… I gave up everything… for what?"

"Hales, come on," Nathan says, reaching across the bed to wrap his hand around her ankle. He gives her a gentle squeeze, causing her to look at him. "Your family has gone through more than anyone should – more than most ever will. Your bond is different. The lengths you'll go for each other, is different."

"But it's lonely," Haley admits. "I'm lonely."

"C'mere," he coaxes, pulling her leg to him. Haley obliges, scooting up the bed to fit her little-spoon-self against him. He drapes an arm around her, the heat from his body is comforting, the beat of his heart, relaxing. Like old times, Haley's hand finds his, intertwining their fingers, and hugging them to her chest. Her breath catches at the familiarity, her words lost at the fact she'd given this up.

Haley hears the bob of Nathan's Adam's apple behind her. He's equally as nervous, relishing the feeling of Haley in his arms, something he thought would be a phantom pain the rest of his life. And yet, here she is.

"Nathan, if I could go back –" Haley starts.

"We can't," Nathan admits. "And I don't really want to."

"Nathan –" Haley gasps.

"I will never understand the desperation you felt. I will always wish you handled it differently. And don't even get me started on my father. But the one thing I keep coming back to is… I don't care. I thought I did. I probably did until this weekend. But being near you, feeling what I'm feeling, is something I've been chasing for ten years. I told you, I'm done fighting it," Nathan sighs.

"But is it really that simple?" Haley questions.

"It is for me," Nathan confirms.

Haley releases his hand as Nathan tenses, quickly turning in his arms to face him.

"I want to believe you," Haley states, searching his eyes for apprehension. "Even if I don't deserve it."

"I've always been honest with you Haley. Always," Nathan states. He runs a hand through her bangs. "I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

"You're a man of your word, Nathan Scott," Haley smiles.

He nods, swallowing hard. "Till death do us part."

Haley eyes swell, happy tears this time, as she lays her head against his chest. She rubs a hand up and down his bicep.

"Tell me about your life Nate," Haley prompts.

Nathan sighs, squeezing her a little tighter. "Do I have to?"

"Humor me," Haley pleads.

"I'm not really proud of who I've been," he sighs.

"Nathan," Haley scoffs. "You made it to the NBA. You're one of the best shooting guards in the league and make like a bazillion points per game. I mean, the Bobcats actually won a championship because of you. Why wouldn't you be proud?"

"Because I'm kind of a dick," Nathan sighs. "I don't like, connect with people. I just get the job done."

Haley sits up, looking down at Nathan, shame etched in his features. "You really think that?"

"Haley, I know that," Nathan admits.

"Hold on a second," she says, hopping off the bed to grab her purse. She pulls out her phone and returns, laying flat on her stomach. Nathan watches as she pulls up Instagram.

"I don't do the whole social media thing," Nathan notes.

"I know," Haley laughs. "For what it's worth, I don't really either. I use it for work. And um… this."

She pulls up her "Saved" posts, and scrolls through, a treasure trove of Nathan Scott content. His eyebrows raise as he sees his face over, and over, and over.

"Haley, what is this?" Nathan asks.

"I may or may not have been following your career very closely. Some might say, disturbingly closely. And I may have favorited a video or two just to hear your voice," Haley says, sheepishly.

"Hales…" Nathan says, his voice catching. The gesture was overwhelming.

"Anyway, that's not the point. I'm sure being in the public eye is isolating and you my friend, were not made for small talk –"

"Not at all," Nathan grumbles, garnering a laugh from Haley.

"But you were made to lead. You're captivating Nathan. And genuine and focused. Your teammates think you hung the moon, I know what that feels like. You don't have to talk every day to feel connected. You don't have to be best friends to feel connected. You just have to trust. And if there's one thing those guys do, is trust you."

Nathan watches as Haley scrolls finding a clip, her eyebrows scrunching in determination. She meant every word and that makes him feel so high he could float right off the bed.

Finally, Haley clicks on a highlight reel of Nathan with press conference coverage of his teammates.

"I don't like hearing about myself Haley," Nathan sighs.

"Oh I know," Haley states. "But sometimes you need to."

Nathan obliges, letting Haley scroll through a few videos. Each one full of commentators, teammates, coaches, and fans who think Nathan Scott wrote the book on what an athlete should be.

"Do I need to keep going?" Haley asks.

"I think I'm good, Clockwork Orange," Nathan jokes.

"Hey!" Haley says, swatting at him.

"I appreciate the sentiment. And the fact that you've been stalking me for ten years," Nathan chides. "That did not go unnoticed, by the way."

Haley puts her head in the pillow, totally embarrassed.

"But if I'm being honest, my isolation is self-imposed. I treat work like a job, not my dream. And I never really wanted it to feel that way, because it didn't feel right. I fought hard to get where I'm at. To be the player I am. But I feel guilty…" Nathan stops.

Haley turns to look at him, "Guilty for what?"

"If I was going to fight for anything, it should have been you," Nathan sighs.

"Oh Nathan," Haley says. "That's not fair. You can't think of it like that."

"But it's the truth," Nathan sighs. "I was ready to walk away from basketball, or play at Stanford and call it at the college level. Going pro, that was my dad's dream for me. And it was mine, until I fell I love. That was the rush and the excitement I'd been chasing. An arena full of people cheering you on doesn't hold a candle to making eye contact with your girl from across the court."

"Nathan…" Haley sighs. She pauses, unable to find the right words.

"I'm only telling you this because I know I have this legendary career. It's not lost on me I'm one of the most successful players to come out of North Carolina besides Jordan. But I can't celebrate my successes in the ways I should. If I think about my accomplishments, my next thought will always be, 'what if I'd put that energy into my marriage?' I'm not proud of the decisions I've made. Or that I let your mom talk me out of fighting for you. Or that I let basketball distract me from the one thing that actually mattered to me. I'm just… not."

Haley watches him speak, his pain obvious. She puts a hand on his cheek. He winces, closing his eyes.

"Look at me," Haley pleads. He doesn't, keeping his eyes closed, visibly trying to calm his emotions. "Nathan, please."

At the sound of his name, Nathan opens his eyes, the bright blue glazed over with tears. Haley's stomach drops, his pain unbearable to her.

"You did nothing wrong," Haley states, searching his eyes for connection. "You were the perfect partner in every way. You made me feel whole, and confident, and loved in a world that had made me into the smallest version of myself. I felt more alive at eighteen years old, than many do by the time they're fifty."

"Hales…" Nathan sighs, not wanting to believe her. She puts her other hand on his cheek, forcing him to face her.

"I'm serious Nathan," Haley states. "You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to feel guilty about. I loved you so much. So, so, so much. But I never loved you like I should."

"Haley, stop." Nathan pleads. She shakes her head, needing to say this next part.

"I never loved you like I should. I loved you as best I could, but there's a difference," Haley sighs. "You were right about what you said earlier today. I should have told you everything. I should have let you help me navigate our parents, should have told you about my dad, about my health. It was wrong of me to hide that from you. To take our marriage from you. I know that, OK? And I'm haunted by all the things I would change. You have to believe me, I'm haunted. But I never thought you'd be haunted too. That kills me. The idea that you think you did anything wrong. I – I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I put that weight on you."

Haley chokes on the last words, a sob escaping her. Her hands slide from his cheeks to his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him as she puts her face in the crook of his neck. Nathan freezes under her touch.

"I'm so sorry, Nathan. I'm sorry," Haley cries. She kisses the side of his neck softly. "Please believe me."

Finally, Nathan moves, wrapping his arms around her lower back. Rubbing comforting circles along her spine.

"Nathan, please. Say something," Haley asks.

…

Nine Years Ago

"I'm sorry, you want the worst seat in the house?" The Box Office Attendant asks.

"That's right," Haley says.

"You know it's already weird enough you're wearing a Duke jersey instead of Stanford. And now I'm supposed to believe you want the most nosebleed-iest nosebleed seat in the coliseum, even though there's plenty of lovely seats available."

"Correct," Haley states, her patience waning as the stress kicks in.

"I don't get it, but I guess that's not what they pay me for," the Box Office Attendant sighs. "I can give you top level, last row, in a section with one of the columns. Partially obstructed view," he offers.

"That sounds perfect," Haley smiles, handing over her credit card. The Box Office Attendant swipes it, staring at her as the machine processes.

"Can I ask why?" He inquires.

"What, you don't get this type of seating request often?" Haley laughs.

"Never," he responds, deadpanned.

"I want to see, but not be seen. If that makes sense," Haley states.

"Not really," the Box Office attendant responds. "I mean, you're wearing a Duke jersey. That's a helluva way to avoid being seen."

The credit card machine beeps, spitting out a receipt. He passes everything back to Haley, handling her the ticket.

"I'm not worried about fans," Haley smiles before taking the ticket and walking away. She moves between the growing crowd of Stanford fans, her bright white and blue jersey a stark contrast from the crimson red around her.

After breaking a sweat and way too much walking, she finds her seat – perfectly far away from anything and most anyone save for a few other groups of students in the first few rows of the nosebleed section.

Haley's heart skips a beat as the Duke team jogs onto the court, starting their warm-ups opposite Stanford. She holds her breath until finally, he appears towards the end of the line. He looks tan, a glow still lingering from the summer at the beach they'd planned, and bigger, partly from working out, partly from another growth spurt. His face was serious as he started his warm-ups. Methodical. Three-pointer, rebound, lay-up, jog around the half-court. Repeat. It was mesmerizing to watch.

"Are you OK?"

Haley turns to find a Popcorn Vendor near her.

"Huh?" She asks, coming out of her daze.

"You're crying," the Popcorn Vendor points out.

Haley brings a hand to her cheek, feeling the wetness. "I guess I am."

"You must really love the game," the vendor observes.

"Something like that," Haley admits. "Do you have a napkin?"

"Sure thing honey," she replies, pulling a wad of napkins from a dispenser attached to her hip. "Want some popcorn? On the house?"

"I'm OK. Thank you though," Haley states unconvincingly as she takes the napkins.

The Popcorn Vendor nods before walking away and making her way to the next row. Haley turns her attention back to the court and it never waivers. Where Nathan goes, her eyes follow. He is on fire tonight and the Stanford fans aren't having it, heckling left and right. But it doesn't matter. This boy was focused, and having the game of his life. There is an edge to him though. He doesn't celebrate with each basket, it felt more like adding a log to an already roaring fire. Like he's battling something else on that court.

By halftime Duke is up by 18 points, and 26 points by the end of the third. Haley could feel the tension radiating off the fans around her, their frustration building from an absolute blowout of a game so far. The players on the court were no different, the amount of fouls by Stanford increasing.

Halfway through the fourth quarter is when it happens. Nathan rebounds off of Stanford and charges down the court for an easy lay-up. He's trailed by a Stanford player who lunges forward, shoving his shoulder from behind to knock Nathan off his footing. Nathan drops the ball as they both tumble into a pile on the ground.

Nathan grabs his knee in pain, the first point of contact with the harsh wood of the court. The refs blow their whistles as Duke's assistant coach and medic run to Nathan's side, Haley watches with concern. Her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand as she balls her hands with worry.

Finally, after much too long, Nathan gets up, limping to the sidelines and back to the locker rooms. Before she knows what she's doing, Haley's already out of her section and down in the lobby, frantically trying to find a way to the locker rooms. After trying a few "Employees Only" doors, Haley finds her way to the basement, running through the halls to the visitor's corridor.

She approaches a barricaded section with a security guard.

"Excuse me sir, is this the visitor's entrance?" Haley asks.

"Sure is, but you shouldn't be here," he states.

"I know and I apologize. I was just hoping to see Nathan Scott," she asks.

The security guard notices her jersey. "What are you some kind of groupie?"

"Oh no," Haley laughs. "Far from it. I just – he got hurt. I want to make sure he's OK."

"Well if that's all you want then fine, come in," the security guard states sarcastically.

Lost in her own determination, Haley's eyes light up as she starts to open the barricade. The security guard stops her immediately.

"Come on kid. You're crazy if you think I'm about to let you into a Division 1 locker room. Do you know the amount of women that just 'happen' to find their way down here? You want to be a groupie, go wait outside the entrance to the parking lot," he sighs.

"I already told you, I'm not a groupie! I know him," Haley sighs. "And like I said, I just want to make sure he's OK."

"Not my problem," the security guard grumbles. Behind them, a metal door swings open and Nathan appears on a gurney on his way to an ambulance.

Haley gasps at the sight, it echoes through the hall. Nathan turns his head at the sound as the EMT's push him out toward the ambulance. Haley throws herself to the ground in a panic.

"Haley?" She hears, a barely audible whisper, and just like that it's gone as Nathan continues out the heavy metal doors of the coliseum. Haley stays on the ground, trying to steady her breaths.

"You know," the security guard starts, now looming over her. "For someone trying to see Scott, you did the opposite."

"It's complicated," Haley groans.

"So you really do know the guy?" The security guard asks.

"He's my hu—my first love," Haley states. "And I ruined everything."

"Would he have been happy you were here?" The security guard asks.

"Probably not," Haley says.

"Then you did the right thing," the security guard observes. "And that's all you can do when you mess up. Make the better choice in the future."

"Yeah," Haley says, finally getting up from her spot on the floor.

"But," the security guard contemplates. "I heard him say Haley. Is that you?"

"Yes, Haley James," she agrees.

"Oh never mind. Different Haley," the security guard states.

"What are you talking about?" Haley asks.

"There's a VIP access list the team leaves with us, but this says Haley Scott," he confirms.

"It does?" Haley gasps, again.

"Sure does," the security guard confirms again.

"I've got to go," Haley says, running back down the corridor.

…

Haley pulls her head back, waiting for Nathan's response. He stares at her, deep in thought.

"I've waited a long time to hear you say that," Nathan finally states. "A long time."

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Haley agrees.

"Stop," Nathan pleads. "Haley, I know. I believe you. OK?"

"Good," Haley sighs. "I really am so sorry."

"Stop saying sorry," Nathan laughs darkly.

"But I am sorry," Haley observes.

"Haleyyyy," Nathan begs. He knows she's sorry. He's known ever since he saw her at the cocktail hour. Her movement and mannerisms have a weight to them, an invisible burden she always had to carry – their love. He's had to do it too.

He studies her features –the small crinkles forming at the corners of her eyes; the worry-lines forming faintly on her forehead; more freckles; her lips still inviting, the smallest birth mark dotted below her lip on one side. It's the face that's haunted him, and now the face that welcomes him home.

"Nathan," Haley asks, bringing him back to reality. Her eyes wide, her chest splotched red in anticipation. She was stunning. "Stay with me tonight?"

His response is visceral and unspoken, leaning his head towards hers until finally, their lips meet in a sweet, soft, lingering kiss. He pulls back slightly, but instinctively goes back for another. It was tender and grateful, the kind of kiss that stood for everything unsaid.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Nathan admits.

"Me too," Haley says, they both laugh, until finally, the reality of her invitation sets in. The thought catapults their hears into the great unknown, the thrill outweighing the apprehension as they take their first step towards what comes next. It felt pretty damn good, at least right now.