&fic;

 

how lovely (but you must wait)

by sugargroupie

G, 1,005 words

Summary: she would be a widow for far longer than she'd ever been a wife.

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill belongs to Mark Schwahn and co.

Notes: Spoilers for 6.11, We Three (My Echo, My Shadow and Me). Feedback is appreciated. Lyrics are from "Mrs. Scott" by Bethany Joy Galeotti. Many thanks to Southernbangel for the beta; mistakes remain mine.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I want a life full of love
How lovely
I wanna get married

Haley never thought she would accomplish so much by standing still. With her time occupied by rehearsals during the day and performing at night, she never allowed herself to look past the moment.

But when she came home - shut inside the tiny apartment that became hers when she agreed to be Nathan Scott's wife - her life was stillness, and she settled in to wait.

*

There were three things Haley did without fail when she was surrounded by her husband's things, by the idea of them: think about Nathan, write letters to Nathan, and focus on her music. She'd hum little melodies sparked from love notes, and scrawl lyrics on the backs of grocery lists. Music and her love for Nathan were inexorably linked, and she would never regret how either had changed her life.

Especially now that she was living what should have been their life together, alone.

* * *

It was her first performance since Nathan's unit had been deployed, and Haley couldn't move her thoughts past one small detail.

Was she Haley James or Haley Scott? Would Nathan care what name she chose to go by on stage?

Haley stared at her reflection in the mirror, as if her eyes or lips held any answers.

Silence.

Her fingers gravitated toward the thin silver chain she knew hung around her neck, carefully hidden under the neckline of her blouse. Resting between her breasts were her wedding ring and one of Nathan's dog tags.

It was just over a week ago, Haley realized, that they'd stood off to the side in the hangar bay and Nathan had pressed one of his tags into the palm of her hand. Her fingers had automatically closed around the piece of metal still warm from his skin, even as she voiced her protests over keeping it.

"Nathan," she sighed. "I can't take this."

"Why not? I want you to have it."

She cupped his cheek in her other hand. "Won't you get into trouble?"

He smirked brushed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth. "You let me worry about that." Nathan ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "I want you to have it, Haley. You're my girl, right?" he whispered.

Haley nodded and, leaning bodily into him, said, "always," sotto voce.

They let a few minutes pass just as they were before Nathan reluctantly took her hand in his and led her further inside.

A solid thump against the door pulled Haley from her thoughts, followed by a gruff voice calling out, "Ms. James, five minutes!"

"Showtime," she murmured.

* * *

"Nathan and I got married before he deployed."

As Haley sat in the uncharacteristically empty Karen's Cafe, twirling her stirrup straw in her equally empty glass, she admitted that there was a reason she didn't drink often. More than a finger of liquor and she ceased all control of her mouth.

She glanced at the person sharing the small table with her. There was an audible gasp, and then, "Haley James Scott?" With a grin, Brooke uncapped the bottle of whiskey and poured herself a liberal amount. "I'll drink to that."

Sighing, Haley unfastened the thin chain from her neck and let her wedding ring fall into her hand before sliding it back on her finger where it belonged. It wasn't as if she'd set out to hide her marriage. But the aftermath of Peyton Sawyer's death which included Lucas leaving Tree Hill City and the cafe reopening under new management (temporarily, according to Skills) left her very little opportunity to tell everyone that she was Mrs. Nathan Scott.

And now, more than anything, Haley wished she hadn't let Brooke Davis, seamstress extraordinaire, talk her into having one drink for the road, which turned into several drinks for many roads.

The unlikely friendship she had formed with Brooke was initially borne out of loneliness. One turned into two, and soon she was three weeks into a marriage with a husband she hadn't seen since the wedding, who was off fighting in a war she prayed he survived.

With Brooke she had found a kinship through their troubles with Dan Scott, and his departure from Tree Hill had liberated them both in ways they hadn't expected.

As they grew closer, Haley had discovered two things very quickly about Brooke: that she could read Haley far too well for comfort, and that she had a mouth like a sailor.

Nathan's not a sailor. The thought came to Haley without effort or permission. Frowning, she silently tugged the bottle out of Brooke's grasp and poured herself another drink.

* * *

The day Haley knew with all certainty that she wasn't pregnant she poured herself a stiff drink and cried.

It wasn't that she wanted a child right then. On the contrary, she'd wanted to wait, for so many things. Stability, the house she and Nathan had talked about, that future they'd pictured together after making love. She wanted it all, with him by her side.

But she couldn't stop the thoughts that assailed her. What if that one night and one glorious day was all she had with Nathan? What if he didn't survive the war?

Then she would be a widow for far longer than she'd ever been a wife, and that notion terrified her.

Once she was moderately composed, Haley found her stationery and wrote Nathan a letter, pouring out her doubts, letting him know of her fears and frustrations, and above all else her love.

She'd known what she was getting into when she agreed to be his wife. And now, for her sake as well as his, she had to believe that they would make it through, that their love would be stronger as a result.

Completing and sealing the letter, Haley glanced around the apartment and wiped away the last remnants of tears from her face.

"Come home, Nathan," she said, her voice soft but resolute.

Breathing in the silence, she settled in to wait.

We'll be together
For always and ever
And never be lonely again

*

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