Brooke POV

"It's been ten years, Brooke. Shake it off. Ten years since you've seen these people. A lot has changed."

I repeated the mantra again, trying to calm the butterflies wreaking havoc in my stomach. I wasn't that self-conscious high school girl anymore. I was a different woman now.

"I am Brooke Winchester, CEO of the multi-billion dollar clothing brand, Girl Behind the Red Door. I own a gorgeous brownstone, a massive studio overlooking the Upper East Side, and I've got an MBA from Harvard. I'm happily married to the most attractive man in the world."

The thought made me smirk, just as the man in question walked into our home. Dean still managed to take my breath away. Brown leather jacket slung over broad shoulders, black v-neck hugging his toned chest, jeans that should be illegal—rugged, sexy, mine.

We'd been married for over six years, and he still made my heart race like we were teenagers sneaking around under the bleachers.

He strutted in, all charm and quiet intensity. You'd think he was some bad-boy womanizer, but that life had long been left behind. Hunting, fighting, risking his life daily—it wasn't for him anymore.

"No, Brooke. For the millionth time, I won't fight you on this. I'm done with hunting. Do you think I want to risk the one person I can't live without? I love you. Sammy can handle it. It's me and you now. Got it?"

Sam hadn't lasted much longer either. These days, he ran the Winchester Foundation—a place for at-risk youth to channel their anger and trauma into something positive. Dean couldn't have been prouder.

Lost in thought, I didn't hear Dean until his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips brushed my neck.

"Hey, pretty girl. What's going on in that head of yours? You still worried about the reunion? I told you, we don't have to go."

Letting out a sigh, I turned into his chest and looked up into those gorgeous hazel eyes. "I'm fine. Just jitters. The tickets are booked, clothes packed. I just want to get it over with."

I stepped away from his embrace and collapsed onto the plush couch. The thought of going back to Tree Hill High—hell, just Tree Hill—had my nerves in knots.

When I left after graduation, I didn't look back. We'd all been through so much. The bonds were real, but by the end, we were too haunted by shared memories to keep pretending. A clean break seemed best.

Haley went to NYU. Nathan to Duke. That relationship didn't last, but she found her true soulmate in Sam Winchester. Perfect doesn't even begin to describe them.

Skills and Mouth chased dreams at USC. Peyton co-founded River Court Records and headed to Hollywood with big plans.

Dean watched me with amusement. "Oh yeah, Brooke, I can see the excitement in your eyes already."

"If I can't talk you out of going," he added, smirking, "at least let's have some fun. You can introduce me to all your old high school friends."

Cue the anxiety.

"Honey, you've met everyone," I said with a nervous laugh.

Dean raised an eyebrow, seeing right through me. "Brooke. What aren't you telling me?"

Crap. Think fast.

"Dean, it's nothing. Let's go out to dinner. I'm in the mood for Italian."

I made a move toward our bedroom, but Dean stepped in front of me, his expression serious.

"Brooke, tell me now. I'd rather hear it from my wife than get blindsided."

I swallowed hard and forced the words out. "Okay, Dean. Everything's fine, but… I got a call from Haley. It's confirmed. Lucas is going to be at the reunion."

His face darkened immediately.

"No. Brooke, please don't tell me—"

"It's not my idea. He's an alum. He'll be there. And yeah, it's going to be uncomfortable, so I need you by my side. People are going to talk."

Dean didn't say anything right away. Just clenched his jaw and let out a long breath.

Yeah. This was going to be a hell of a trip.