Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Jason set a twenty on the counter, picked up his coffee, and turned around to head out the door—stopping short when he saw Sam just behind him.

He cleared his throat, and she looked at the ground. He hadn’t seen Sam around all that much since they’d signed their divorce papers in August—just that one time, really, in the park two weeks earlier when he and Elizabeth had been on their way to Cameron’s fall picnic.

He’d turned a corner, and Elizabeth had stopped first. Jason hadn’t noticed Sam or John McBain at first—he’d been looking at Elizabeth, enjoying the way she talked about her day at work and her stories about the patients she’d treated. She’d been happy that day—happy in a way that she wasn’t often after they’d lost Jake.

Jason had looked over, followed Elizabeth’s eyes to the bench where his ex-wife was sitting with McBain. There’d been a slight tensing in his stomach, in his shoulders, and he’d almost said something—

But then he’d felt Elizabeth’s grip on his hand weaken, starting to slide away from him, and Jason was jolted back to where he was—and what her fears were. She didn’t trust him not to go back to Sam, not to drift back to the comfort of someone he knew wouldn’t challenge him. Wouldn’t make him want to be a better person.

He’d smiled at her, and they’d continued on to the picnic, even after he’d seen Sam look at them. Jason had handled that moment just right, and he’d swallowed any other feeling. It was better than upsetting Elizabeth even a little.

But now he was standing in front of his ex-wife. No Elizabeth around to influence the way he reacted, and no one in the diner that might take news of this back to her.

“Uh, hey,” Sam said, finally. She scratched her forehead, and offered him an awkward smile. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. Not since—” She cleared her throat. “Anyway.” She folded her arms. “How are you?”

“Good,” Jason said cautiously, not sure where she was going with this. “You?”

“Good,” she repeated, nodding. “Um. I—” She pursed her lips. “I don’t—I shouldn’t ask you this because it’s none of my business. It’s not,” she added as if he’d argued with her. “But I guess I can’t help myself.”

“Okay.” Jason waited as Sam’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away. She rocked back on her heels, then took a deep breath.

“Are you and Elizabeth—I mean—are you—” Sam looked at him, and he could see the vulnerability in her eyes—and he realized that he’d left Sam with the same worry that Elizabeth had. Neither of these women were confident that he’d chosen them—that he would choose them—that they weren’t in competition with each other.

Jason hesitated, unsure how to answer the question, uncomfortable with the realization of what he’d done somehow, without meaning to. He didn’t want to lie to Sam, but he wasn’t sure of the truth.

Were he and Elizabeth together? No. Not technically. Not in a way that she was comfortable stating, but—

Jason didn’t want to lie to Sam, to himself, or anyone else. “Yeah,” he said finally. “We’re working on it.”

“Oh.” Sam’s mouth formed the word, but the sound was barely audible. She hadn’t expected that. “I—I didn’t—” She took a deep breath. “Okay, then.”

“Should I apologize?” Jason asked, uncertainly, conscious that he’d hurt her but not really sure what to do about it. They’d been separated for six months, and their relationship had already been on life support prior to that. He knew she’d drifted towards John McBain, so was it surprising that Jason had also moved on?

“No, no, of course not. That’s—” Sam coughed. “That’s the whole point of divorce, you know? Um, we don’t work, so it’s—we should go find people we do work with. I just—” She closed her eyes. “Yeah. I think—I don’t know, maybe you should. Or not. This is ridiculous.” Sam rolled her eyes. “You can’t be surprised that I’m jealous of Elizabeth, can you? I mean, she’s always been—” She wiggled her fingers. “There. In the background. Even the first time we broke up six years ago, you know?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Sam—”

“So I guess maybe I’m looking for an apology I don’t really deserve,” she muttered. “Because I knew it, and I thought I could—this is stupid,” she said. “I’m not doing this to myself anymore. I asked you, you answered—thank you for not lying.”

She turned and stalked out of the restaurant as Jason frowned after her, not entirely sure he’d handled that right but unable to see how he could have done it differently.

—

The next day was Halloween, and Elizabeth was waiting outside of her house with her boys, rolling her eyes as Patrick scowled at the matching costumes Cameron and Emma had picked out from the store. Cameron was dressed as Flynn Rider, and Emma was ridiculously excited over the luxurious long wig she got to wear as Rapunzel.

“They’re babies,” Patrick said disgusted.

Elizabeth snickered as she lifted Aiden, dressed as a pumpkin, into his red wagon. “They’re eight, Patrick. How old were you when you had your first crush?” she teased.

Patrick’s eyes widened with horror. “I was five.” He pointed a finger at her. “You keep your kid away from my princess—”

“Hey, you want to know something really terrifying—” Elizabeth wiggled her eyebrows. “I was also five. Guess who my first crush was?”

“Oh, God.” Patrick groaned. “Who? Scott Baio?”

“Nope. Closer to home.” Elizabeth smiled as Jason stepped out his SUV and walked towards them. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jason nodded at Patrick. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem. Patrick and I were just comparing notes on our first crushes,” Elizabeth told him. “He’s not comfortable with Emma and Cameron—they’re dressed as a couple from a Disney movie.”

“Okay,” Jason said. “I don’t remember mine,” he admitted. “I mean, from their age. But in the hospital, after the accident, I had—I guess you’d call it a crush on Bobbie.”

“Bobbie, huh? I’ve seen pictures.” Patrick looked at Elizabeth. “So if it’s not Scott Baio, who? Oh, God, a New Kid? Jordan?”

“We’re going to come back to your knowledge of 1980s heartthrubs in a minute,” Elizabeth said. “But, no. The summer I was visiting my grandparents when I was five.” She grinned at Jason. “My brother was hanging out with a couple of kids his age. AJ was his best friend back then, but ah, I had thought his twelve-year-old little brother was perfect.”

Jason raised his brows. “Me?” he repeated.

“Oh, yeah.” Elizabeth shrugged. “So, Patrick, it could be worse.”

“I hate all of you,” Patrick muttered.

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