Winner Round 13
Disclaimer: I don’t own One Tree Hill. I just play with the characters in my downtime.
Summary: Six years after Season 5, Lucas goes to Brooke as he is having problems with his marriage to Peyton. Browen.
Author’s Note: This is my first published fan fiction. Please be kind with your reviews.
For Browen fans
"I'm leaving Peyton," went Lucas Scott's calm and steady tone.
Brooke Davis was about to take another sip of her cappuccino, but that statement caused her to pause, her hand holding the mug suspended mid-air. What the hell was he thinking? Had he gone out of his mind? Did he just say the Lucas-Peyton epic romance that spanned more than twelve years was over?
Lucas placed his hands over his eyes, leaned back his head and sighed. "Can you please say something?"
"What do you want me to say?" Brooke asked, bewildered. Did he want to hear her say 'no, you guys can work it out?', or 'how about the kids', or even a 'congratulations'? She looked out the large window of the coffee shop they were in, at the busy people rushing off to wherever. She replayed in her mind how Lucas had called the day before to say that he was in New York, if she could meet up with him for coffee. She'd been surprised to know that he'd flown out by himself, it was usually him and Peyton and their two young kids. She should've known there was a problem.
A silence settled upon them. Lucas sat up, and then went to stirring his black coffee. Brooke crossed her legs, and put her hands on her lap. She studied him. Lucas had not changed much after college. He'd put on a little weight, but he was still as gorgeous as he was the day she sat naked in his car's backseat. Same blond hair. Same lips. Same blue eyes.
Lucas looked up at her. He leaned over the table and took her hand in his. "Brooke, do you ever wonder what if?"
Brooke opened the front door, deep in thought. She took off her coat, glancing around the beautiful yet cozy three-bedroom apartment she called home.
"Hey, you're home." Owen Anderson, her husband of three years, walked out of their living room and gave her a full kiss on the lips. She grabbed him in an embrace. He wrapped both arms around her slender waist, his head dipping to take in the smell of her hair. He was so huge and huggable. Sensing something was wrong, he held her tight against his chest, then whispered in her ear, “How’d it go?”
‘It’ referred to her coffee with Lucas this afternoon. How had it gone? After he’d asked her if she ever wondered, she considered the only two reactions she could give – 1) answer ‘no’ coolly, sip her cappuccino and make fake small talk all afternoon, or 2) get the hell away from him.
She chose the latter.
She’d hurriedly gathered her bag and her coat, mumbled a quick excuse about a meeting she forgot she had, and fled as fast as she could.
That night, Brooke lay restlessly on their king-sized bed. She had been tossing and turning for the past half hour, thinking back to her conversation with Lucas earlier. Secretly, she was glad Owen had work (he was still bartending).
She hadn’t told him what happened. She’d just told him that he was having problems with Peyton, and he came to talk to her. Owen had nodded, and said that he understood. He never pushed. Owen had always given her space, and he’d promised that he’d never make her do or say anything just for his sake.
“Honey, would you mind if I didn’t change my last name to Anderson?” she’d asked quietly, resting her head against his bare chest. They were in their honeymoon in the Caribbean, and were sitting leisurely at the beach, waiting for the sun to set.
“No. Do I see you demanding me to change my last name to Davis?” he’d answered, causing her to giggle. She sat between his legs, with his arms wrapped around her.
“So, it’s really okay if I’m still Brooke Davis?” she’d asked. He simply kissed the side of her head and said “I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t.”
Giving up on falling asleep for the next few hours, Brooke stood up and silently walked to the bedroom across the hall. The room was smaller than theirs, and was filled with dolls, and books, and silly little-girl things like tiaras and stuffed unicorns. The walls were painted a soft yellow hue. Sleeping soundly in the four-poster bed was their two-year-old daughter Madison in her light blue silk pajamas.
Brooke watched Maddie, looking peaceful and content between her countless stuffed animals and pillows. She sat down, careful not to wake her, and reveled on how much she was a mixture of Owen and herself. Madison was a beautiful child, with ebony brown locks and full lips from her father, and dimples and hazel eyes like her mother.
She tried to stifle a yawn but couldn’t, causing Maddie to stir. The tiny girl opened her eyes sleepily. She smiled when she saw Brooke, “Momma.”
“Hey sweetie,” Brooke whispered, crawling into bed with her precious daughter. Maddie raised her arms to indicate she wanted a hug, and Brooke obliged, the tiny girl folded up against her.
“Daddy?” Maddie asked, her delicate fingers playing with Brooke’s chestnut-colored hair.
“He’s at work, baby,” Brooke explained. Maddie was definitely a Daddy’s girl. Owen could not even dream of refusing their baby anything. He said it was because of those hazel eyes.
Maddie pouted. Brooke couldn’t blame her; just Owen’s presence was comforting.
“How about we sleep now and tomorrow morning Daddy will be here?” Brooke asked, smoothing Maddie’s hair.
Their baby’s face lit up, “Kay!” Brooke chuckled. Who would’ve known that her hot bartender could manage to win the youngest of hearts?
“Love you. Love daddy,” Maddie said with a yawn. Brooke felt sleepy herself. She pulled up the covers over them, and snuggled with her little girl until they both fell asleep.
Brooke stepped out of the conference room, ahead of all the managers of Clothes Over Bros. She had been a little distracted during the meeting, which everyone attributed to last week being Fashion Week, and having a lot of orders come in.
She had been walking to her room, eager for a latte, when her assistant Millicent had rushed to her, handing a list of all the people who’ve called during the meeting. She was just about to say ‘thanks’ and send Millie on her merry way when her assistant added, “Also, Lucas Scott is in your office to see you.”
In her office? In the middle of the day?
Brooke mustered her best professional-looking face when she’d entered her room, shutting the door behind her. Lucas spun around, looking dashing in his black suit and blue tie.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” Lucas said, an accusatory tone to his voice.
“It’s because I don’t want to talk to you,” Brooke answered. Lucas’s eyebrows shot up.
“If this is about yesterday, Brooke, I’m sor-“, Lucas started, his eyes never leaving her face.
“No, you don’t get to apologize and feel like a good guy, Lucas. Not anymore!” Brooke interrupted him, her eyes flashing.
“What do you mean?” Lucas’s voice grew louder.
“Do you wonder?” Brooke’s voice now matched his in volume.
“It was a harmless question!”
“No, Lucas, harmless is when you meet an old friend for coffee! Harmless is when your old friend does not allude to him thinking of what-could’ve-been between you two!”
“So you want me to think you don’t also wonder?” Lucas stared her down.
“How dare you!” Brooke resisted the urge to slap him.
“What if you could’ve been happier? With me?” Lucas tried again.
Brooke paused, thinking of how just the sight of Owen sleeping on the couch with Maddie sprawled on his chest made her office problems seem so insignificant. Of how waking up to her husband’s light snoring, or Maddie’s demands for a hug, was the best start of her day. Of how just knowing she had them, that she could go home to them, made all her horrible experiences with men or with her parents seem worth it now.
No, Brooke Davis could not even be possibly happier than she was. And here, listening to Lucas Scott go on and on about a future they didn’t have, made her realize that.
“I can’t even imagine that, Luke,” Brooke answered truthfully. “You have to go.”
Brooke sat alone in a table, watching Owen through her dark sunglasses. She’d been receiving strange looks from people in the bar but she didn’t care. The platinum blonde wig she wore was getting a little itchy, and the blue scarf around her neck didn’t go with her outfit, but she couldn’t care less about appearances tonight.
She looked on as girl after girl hit on her husband. She’d wanted to kick each and every one of them, but she had to admit they had good taste. In his tight grey shirt and dark jeans, Owen was easily the best-looking guy in the bar.
She slowly inched her way through the bar, grateful that it was an incredibly busy night and Owen would not even see her. She faced the dance floor, careful not to turn toward the counter.
“I swear Holly, the hot bartender’s wearing a ring!” An overly excited high-pitched voice caught Brooke’s attention.
“Uh-uh, I do not believe you!” An equally annoying voice answered, sounding all valley-girl.
“Seriously, a wedding band!”
Brooke played with the band on her finger, thoughtfully appraising the paint colors for Maddie’s room.
“You don’t have to wear that if you don’t want, you know,” Owen had appeared behind her, taking her into his arms.
That had surprised her. She actually loved her ring, but she was quite interested in what he had to say. She playfully replied, “So how will the other hot bartenders know I’m taken?”
“They won’t. But I will,” Owen smiled, twirling her to face him. “You don’t deserve an insecure guy Brooke. And you sure as hell will not get one.”
“So, you’re married huh?” ‘Holly’ (Brooke assumed) wanted to know.
“Happily,” Owen said. Brooke felt her eyes water. He was just so wonderful.
“Tell me about your wife,” ‘Holly’ pressed. Brooke could just imagine Owen sighing. He hated airheads.
“She’s nothing short of amazing. No one in this bar, or in this planet for that matter, holds a candle to her.”
With that, Brooke had burst into tears and run off, out the bar, into the night.
Brooke woke up to the sound of water pouring out of a faucet. She could see from the light in the bathroom that Owen was home. She stood up and walked toward the bathroom, finding Owen bent over their large marble sink, with his back to her.
Brooke woke up to the sound of footsteps entering the hotel room. She slowly opened one hazel eye. She found Owen carrying a tray of what looked like breakfast: bacon, eggs, ham and orange juice.
“Hey,” she greeted him, now that she was fully awake. It was the morning after they first made love.
“Hey back.” He leaned over to give her a kiss. Her hand automatically went to his belt loops, pulling him toward her still-naked body. It was quite disappointing that he was now dressed because she had been so pleased with what was under his clothes.
“I was actually thinking of a different kind of breakfast,” Brooke murmured, her lips attacking his neck. “But bacon and orange juice is kinda okay too.”
Owen chuckled, his body fully pressed against Brooke’s. “Hey, I got you something.”
“A present?” She was giddy already.
Owen stood up, pulling up a small box from the bedside drawer. He walked over to her and placed it under Brooke’s nose. The label read Chanel.
“I was going to give you that one last night, but we got a little distracted…”
Brooke raised an eyebrow at Owen, a smirk playing on her lips. Owen crossed his arms over his chest. She opened it, finding a gorgeous dainty diamond dress watch. It was breathtaking.
“You like it?” Owen sounded smug.
“I love it!” Brooke couldn’t contain how precious it already was. She pulled it out of the box.
“It says something on the back,” Owen told her, sitting beside her on the bed.
Brooke looked behind the watch’s face. In fine print was carved: ‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine’.
She sat quietly on the edge of their bathtub. “Hey,” she greeted him softly.
He replied with a grunt.
“How was work?” she asked, hating how quiet their bathroom seemed without their easy chatter.
“I called you today. At work,” Owen started. He stood up but was still not facing her. “They said you were talking to Lucas Scott.”
Oh. “He came by today,” Brooke said, trying to keep her tone light. “He wanted to talk-“
“Are you leaving me for him?” Owen asked, bitterness evident in his voice. He turned around to face her, his dark brown eyes boring into her hazel ones.
“No, honey,” Brooke started, her heart breaking at how miserable Owen looked. “I’m not leaving you. Not for anyone.”
Brooke giggled as Owen pulled her with him inside Tric. “Owen, it’s 7 AM on a Tuesday morning. I don’t think you’re allowed here.”
Owen gave her a ‘devil may care’ smirk. “They’re not going to mind.”
Dressed in tiny denim shorts, flip flops and Owen’s plain gray shirt, she scooted over to a barstool. Owen, on the other hand, went behind the bar and began to tinker with some bottles.
“So, what’ll Brooke Davis be having?”
“Said the recovering alcoholic?” Brooke teased.
Owen rolled his eyes.
“Wow, this place is huge,” Brooke mentioned, turning around to look inside Tric. “I’ve forgotten how big it looks without the crowds.” She leaned back on the counter, scanning the empty stage and the tables.
The sound of a shot glass being placed behind her made her turn around. She casually faced the counter, eager to take a drink. Instead of some liquid though, the shot glass held a ring.
A diamond ring.
Brooke’s eyes shot up to look at Owen. For the first time in two years, Owen didn’t look as cocky or self-assured. He looked a little nervous.
“I love you Brooke Davis,” Owen said, taking her hand in his. “Would you marry me?”
“I was going to tell you that I wouldn’t give you up without a fight,” Owen mumbled. He slumped back against the sink looking defeated. “I called to tell you that what we have is worth a hell of a fight. That you and Maddie are my life, and that I’d have no problem in beating up that scrawny blond writer ex of yours. But after finding out you were with him, I thought that maybe you were going to tell me that-“
Brooke choked up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you think for even a moment that I could ever leave you, or even hurt you.”
Owen’s gaze dropped to the floor.
“Lucas told me he was leaving Peyton. And he asked me if I ever wondered if he and I could’ve been happier.”
Owen took a deep breath. His dark eyes fixed on Brooke, he asked, “What did you say?”
“That I can’t even imagine being any happier than I am now. It’s been over with Lucas for more than a decade.” She could not imagine loving anyone as much as she loved Owen Anderson. Brooke walked up to her husband and wrapped her arms around him. She had never felt as safe or as loved than when Owen held her close.
She took his chin and forced him to look into her hazel eyes, “You are the love of my life.”
“Ditto, Brooke Davis,” he whispered, before pulling her for a kiss. “So, bartender trumps writer?”
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