There's something to be said for surviving the loss of someone you gave a piece of your heart to; for having the ability to take another breath despite the agonizing pain that spreads throughout your body every single time you see their face in your mind.

Brooke Davis hadn't had a chance to ever really say good bye. The last time she had talked to Haley it had been on the telephone. Jamie had been yelling in the background and baby Mariah had been yelling and squealing with him. Haley had laughed with her and told her, "these Godchildren of yours are louder then a marching band. You need to hurry back to Tree Hill and baby- sit them so I can have a few hours of peace!"

"Sorry, tutor-mom, I'm booked solid until the runway show and then I'll be back," she had promised.

A crash was heard in the background and Brooke winced on her best friend's behalf. Haley sighed, "I have to go, my children are animals."

"Okay, Haley, I love you," she told her.

"Love you too, bye," and there was a click. Two nights later after Brooke's runway show she'd come home to an answering machine message from Karen Roe telling her that Haley had gotten hit by a drunk driver as she was taking her evening jog. She had died instantaneously.

333

How anyone ever managed to survive the loss of their spouse was astonishing. To have to go home and hold your baby and tell your son that Mommy was never coming home. How someone can manage to look at their kids and not cry every time they did something that their Mommy had taught them.

Nathan Scott hadn't expected anything drastic to happen that day. He had gotten up early for work at the high school. Ever since Whitey had retired he and Lucas had been co-coaches, and Nathan also took pride in coaching his son's Little League team. When he had gotten home he and Haley had embarked on their bimonthly arguments, and she had gone for a run. Usually one of them went for a run while the other stayed with the kids and it was his turn. Then an hour later the cops had come to the door. He would never forget their last words. They would haunt him forever.

"Damn it, Nathan," Haley slammed a pan on the counter, "you need to be here more for me. I am raising your children!"
"I'm sorry if I'm busy working to help pay for our mortgage, and our bills, having a coaching job requires me to be away from home sometimes. You knew that when I got the job and you supported me," his voice was a hushed whisper, their kids were in the living room.

"Well I changed my mind, when we got pregnant with Mariah you said you would be around more," Haley replied.

He took a deep breath, "why is this always my fault? You could quit tutoring after school."

"Those kids need me," she was quick to point out.

"The kids I work with need me!"

"It's just a game, Nathan! What I do is important for the rest of their lives," Haley argued.

They both stopped there. Nathan had been flabbergasted, did she really think that the love for the game he had was so easy to replace and discard?

"Look, I'm going to go for a run, I'll be back in an hour," she told him softly. When he didn't reply she moved closer, "okay?"

"Just go," he told her. And she did, but she never came back.

333

The day was cold. It was January in North Carolina, which meant some snow and brisk winds. Yet they all stood in the cemetery and listened as the priest spoke about the woman Haley James-Scott had been.

Everyone was waiting. Nathan Scott had been a bad-ass bastard before Haley had reformed him back in high school. Soon he would have to release his anguish and when he did everyone feared for what he would do to himself. Everyone worried about the children but no one knew how to approach Nathan.

"Ashes to ashes," the priest began.

Nathan was numb, his body managing to function but he didn't know how. He had managed to dress his kids and talk to them but now he thought he might crumble. He wanted to be strong for his kids but he would be the first to admit that Haley had been his quiet source of strength for the entire nine years they had been together.

"Here," he was surprised when Mariah's weight was lifted from him. He looked up and found Brooke standing before him.

"Put the dirt on it Nathan, say goodbye," her voice was so raspy he could barely hear it. Her face was devoid of makeup and tears were continuously streaking down her face. He saw in her eyes, his anguish mirrored. He let her take Mariah and then Jamie's hand. Everyone sighed in relief; he had given some of his burden to someone. God help Brooke because now she would have to shoulder it with him.

Nathan picked up a handful of dirt and gently, almost tenderly, placed it on the black coffin, "I'll always love you, Hales. Rest well until I join you."