He stepped out of the cab and leaned down to extend his right hand. A long slender one eased out of the cab door and took his. She closed her hand around his and he noticed her dark red fingernails as they curled oh so slowly into his palm.
She unfolded out of the cab and he felt his breath catch. She wore a plain white summer dress with spaghetti straps the hem ending just above her knee, revealing those long tanned legs he loved so much – even though he had told her once they were kind of chickeny.
When he had first met her, she wore her hair all curls and platinum blonde. Now the girl had become a woman with dark blonde hair that teased with traces of red.
She was Peyton Sawyer, THE Peyton Sawyer and he finally allowed himself the luxury to look at her, in all her glory, and admit his love for her.
They walked silently to the white chapel on the glittering Las Vegas strip. The garish interior assaulted their senses as they stepped through the door.
Lucas guided Peyton to the third pew on the right side of the chapel behind a pair of women who clearly chose an alternate lifestyle. In front of them was a couple dressed all in black leather with the words "Harley Davidson" embossed on the back of their jackets.
At the alter, stood a man and woman covered head to toe in tattoos and presiding over them was the pudgy version of Elvis, white jumpsuit and all. Lucas heard the Elvis impersonator say "What do you say, little momma?" As he directed his prompting for an "I do" from the tattooed "momma."
Lucas turned to Peyton and watched her drink in the scenery. Classic Peyton. She genuinely found this setting amusing and didn't give the surroundings for their impending nuptials a second thought.
Peyton turned to Lucas and smiled as if she could feel him watching her. "This is great," she told him with a wide grin. And then she chuckled.
But was it perfect? How could Lucas do this to her – to his Peyton? To propose to her over the phone and expect her to drop all her pain and fear and marry him on a moments notice with no questions asked.
He had done this to her once before. All those years ago in that hotel room in LA, Lucas Scott had allowed all the fear and uncertainty about his relationship with Peyton to prompt him to propose to her, out of the blue she had said.
He could still see her face when he surprised her at her work – the record label she had only meant to intern at for a summer. She was so happy to seem him and when he held her slight frame in his arms he felt like he was home.
Lucas dreamed the whole flight to LA about how he would propose to her and how she would smile shyly and tell him yes. How they would have a small ceremony in Tree Hill and they would start their lives together.
But that was the problem with dreams they usually didn't live up to reality. And Lucas faced the harsh reality when Peyton had told him no. But wait, she didn't say no, did she? All these years he kept hearing her say no, but after his blow-up with Peyton in her office that night, his perception of his proposal to her changed.
She had said she wanted to marry him someday. Now that he could see clearly he saw all the love in the world in her eyes. He had been chasing her since he was 12-years-old, or the dream of her, and never truly believed that this girl, this woman, could love him. Could love the boy a father could so easily discard.
Yet, she had stood there in that hotel room and told him she believed in him, believed in their love for each other. But Lucas' blindness to that one true fact, and his fear that she would wake up and leave him, caused him to hear no instead of someday. So, he left her in that hotel room in LA, dreaming of a life with him, and he left her with nothing. Proving yet again, to the lonely girl who longed for her dead mother, that people always leave.
A crossroads was faced that night, a path taken. Only a lucky few get a chance to make a U-Turn in life and go back to that fateful crossroad. So, here he stood, here they stood, at the very crossroads they had haunted three plus years ago.
He saw in his mind the look of the young girl on the cusp of womanhood pleading with the boy pretending to be a man, that he just give them a chance to live life, and to be able to come to each other without regrets. They were at that moment now, yet if they married in this garish chapel in Vegas, he would be denying Peyton her chance to fulfill her dream of saying yes to him in that LA hotel room.
"We can't do this," Lucas blurted out.
Peyton turned to him with a look of horror crossing her face. "Lucas," she whispered. It was the only word she could force from her mouth.
Lucas could see she believed he was trying to say he didn't want to marry her, but oh, it was far from that. "No, no," Lucas whispered back as he clutched her hand tighter. "I just mean we can't marry here."
Peyton bite her lip and cocked her head. "I don't understand?"
"I owe you more then this." Lucas waved his free hand over the small chapel. "You deserve more. Come on."
Lucas got up and pulled Peyton to him. He rushed her out of the chapel and told her they were heading back to their hotel room. The couple quickly packed and then Lucas shuffled them off to the rental car stand in the hotel and soon they were on the road.
Peyton would have asked where they were going, but she saw the sign reading how many miles it was to Los Angeles, and then she knew. She smiled and took Lucas' hand. She didn't say anything. There were no words to be said. At least until they got in that hotel room in Los Angeles, then there would be a lot to say and do.