Update Link: Hits Different – Part 23
Hope everyone is having a great week! I’m working hard on getting FMT’s final round of typo cleanups finished. I’m excited for you guys to start reading Book 2, and for everything else I’m planning next month! See you on Monday!
Written in 65 minutes.
The door to the second bedroom had only been opened once since that terrible night — the day she and Jason had stood in the apartment, and he’d asked her for more pictures. Elizabeth had given him the only pictures she allowed herself — the family photo from her wallet and those inside the baby book she’d given him.
She’d thrown out the idea to clean Cady’s room almost as a dare to herself than an actual plan. If she said it, if she made a date and a promise, well, then she’d have to actually do it, wouldn’t she?
And yet.
Elizabeth stood halfway between the kitchen and the door, her fingers curled around a cup of coffee, staring at the closed white door. Behind her, she heard the click of the coffee pot—Jason switching it off after pouring the last cup.
“We don’t have to do this,” he said, coming up behind her. “We can do something else today.”
“Maybe skydiving,” she murmured. “I think I’d rather jump out of a plane.”
“Elizabeth—”
“I told you, didn’t I, that I refused to come into the apartment after I got out of the hospital. I knew there were pictures everywhere. I framed everything — ultrasounds, her first day at home. Her first morning in her crib. Her first—” She cleared her throat. “There were toys. And baby things everywhere.”
“You said you made me clean it up,” Jason said, and she looked at him, leaning against the wall.
“A horrible thing to ask. I don’t know if I really understood how much I was asking of him—you—” she corrected, almost absently, as if Jason’s use of the pronoun had made her feel safe to use it, too. “You never even blinked. Never argued. Never said a word. You just turned me around, put me back in the car, and drove me to Luke’s. When I got home, it was like she ever existed. Out here. I thought it made it easier. And maybe it did for me. But I took her away from you, too. And now—” She finally looked at him again. “Now I regret it. Because you don’t remember her, and I feel like I stole those final weeks.”
“I can’t speak for who I used to be,” Jason said. He hesitated. “But I hope I would have understood.”
“Maybe you did. I found the baby book after the accident. It was in the desk,” she said. “Between tax forms and bank statements — somewhere you knew I’d never look. I felt better when I found that.” She exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to think about before the accident — that it’s separate for you—”
“I’ll let you know when I get annoyed,” he interrupted, and her smile was faint. “Justus said maybe it was easy for me to do that, but I couldn’t force everyone to feel the same way. And maybe—” he shook his head, sipped the coffee, considering what he wanted to say. “Maybe it’s selfish to want people who used to know me to act like I’m someone different.”
“I think you get to be a little selfish, Jason, with everything you’ve gone through.” She bit her lip. “You are different. I mean, you’re the same person. But your personality, it’s…you don’t care so much about taking care of people’s feelings—” She winced. “That sounds terrible—”
“Customer told me last night I was a rude asshole when I decked him for pinching the waitress,” Jason offered. “I’m okay with that.”
“You used to…” She drew her brows together. “You worried a lot about what other people thought. About you. About your intentions. It’s not that it made you less honest — but sometimes, you weren’t always clear. That’s…I think that’s the biggest change. You say what you think and there’s not three layers to dig out what you feel.”
“I figure it makes it easier to know where you stand when you just say what you really mean.” He retrieved her cup from the desk, went to the kitchen and ran some water. “Why did you want to clean out her room today?”
“Because it has to be done, and I—I think—” Elizabeth looked down at her fingers, twisting the ring on her finger. “I think it’s the last thing I get to do as her mother. And if you help—it’s…”
“The only thing I get to remember about being her father,” Jason finished. Her throat tight, she could only nod.
“And maybe if we did it together, it might not hurt so much,” Elizabeth said.
“Then let’s see if we can do it.” Jason held out his hand. “And if it doesn’t work, I’ve got the number for a skydiving place. We can start lessons.”
She laughed, but took his head, and together they approached the closed the door. She touched it first with her fingertips, then slid her hand down to the knob, twisting it.
And pushed it open.
Sunlight from the window streamed in—illuminating the thin layer of dust on every surface. In the center of the room sat a white wooden crib with a soft yellow blanket hanging over the end, the mobile with ducks still dangling. A matching wooden dresser in the corner, and next to it a changing table.
There was a tall set of shelves — they’d been half empty the last time she’d been in this room, but now there were picture frames filling them.
Elizabeth released his hand, walked to the shelf, and picked up the first one she saw. In the hospital, taken only a few hours after labor. She was holding Cady, a squalling red-faced baby bundled up in the hospital’s white and blue linen. She was grinning at whoever was taking the camera, Jason leaning in, one arm extending over her head, the other braced against the bed.
Their first photo as a family. She touched Jason’s face. His hair was longer, but his smile was the same. How could the woman in this photo ever think that her life was be dismantled piece by piece only months after it was taken?
With trembling fingers, Elizabeth set the frame back on the shelf, cleared her throat, looked over the room—found Jason still in the doorway. “I thought…the clothes. They’re clean. Some of them weren’t even—” She folded her arms. “I could pack them into some brown bags. I’m sure there’s a thrift store or a shelter that would appreciate them.”
“Do you want me to do that?” he asked, almost gently. “It might be easier—”
“No. Um, no. I was hoping—” She exhaled in a shaky breath. “Could you take these photos? Um, out of the frames. I have a shoebox for them for now. But later, I want—I want to put them into albums. So I can take them down and look at them.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay. That’s a good enough place to start.” Elizabeth brushed past him, heading the kitchen where she’d stowed the bags.
——
Had it only been a month since Jason had stood in the living room, and asked to see more photos? Only a month since he’d learned about the baby whose entire existence had come and gone before his memories stopped.
It’s not fair to put you through this just so I can maybe one day feel a connection to her.
Jason picked up another frame, this one with his face looking back at him. He knew it well enough now that it didn’t take much to understand the image. He was laying on the sofa—he recognized it from the living room. His eyes were closed, and the baby was stretched out on his chest, her head tucked under his chin. They were both sleeping.
What had it been like, he wondered, to hold something that small? Something that came from you? A person who hadn’t existed until you’d met someone else, and together, you’d made someone new.
He heard a dresser drawer, and looked over to find Elizabeth carefully taking a stack of clothes from inside and setting it into the brown paper bag open at her feet. The clothes were so small, he thought. And in the photo, the baby hadn’t even been reached longer than the end of his ribs.
“How much did she weigh?” Jason asked, the words leaving his mouth before they’d even formed in his mind.
Elizabeth blinked, then cleared her throat. “Nine pounds, twelve ounces.”
Not even ten pounds. Christ.
“I can bench 150 pounds,” Jason said, which was stupid thing to say, but it was all he could think. 150 pounds. That was fifteen times what his daughter had weighed when she’d—
His fingers clenched the frame more tightly, his chest aching. It was stupid, he thought. To get upset because he didn’t remember holding a baby he’d never met.
But she wasn’t just a face in a photo, the way she’d been the first day — when looking at himself before the accident holding her had been something like a novelty. You could see emotions in photos, he’d realized. Learn from them.
And she’d been a ghost in this apartment since the moment he’d stepped foot inside, the closed door haunting Elizabeth every day. How had she been able to keep moving forward? To keep breathing? She remembered everything.
The baby had been a fact about himself, something he’d learned about on his own. But he didn’t feel anything more than that—not really. He hadn’t known what it meant to love anything or anyone. Not then.
But now—looking at a picture of himself in a quiet moment with the daughter he’d never know—
Pressure built behind his eyes, and they began to sting.
“Jason?” Elizabeth’s voice was quiet. She’d come closer when he’d replied to her, but he hadn’t noticed. “Are you okay?”
“I—” His voice cracked, and his cheeks flooded with heat. He set the photo down almost with a thud. “I’m fine.”
Her fingertips skimmed his jaw, cool to the touch. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” He lifted his gaze to her. “I won’t ever remember her. I don’t know what she sounded like when she cried or how it felt to hold her—I can’t learn those facts from anyone else but you and it’s not fair—”
“Jason.” Elizabeth pressed a hand against his shoulder, so that he’d face her more directly. “Come with me.”
He frowned, but she took his head and pulled, so he followed. They went into the living room, and Elizabeth opened a cabinet where he knew she kept her movies. She pulled out a tape, then slid it into the VCR above the television.
“Here. Here, um—” She found the remote. “I know you don’t do well with the moving part of it, but if you just close your eyes—”
Jason felt like an idiot, then closed his eyes. He heard sounds in the background. A door opening, closing. Then voices.
“Jason, don’t point that thing at me!” Elizabeth, sounding so much happier, almost laughing. “I look so awful!”
“You look beautiful,” came the response, and Jason frowned, because it—that was him, wasn’t it? He’d heard his voice on recordings at the hospital, after therapy sessions with the doctors.
“I do not—you’re a terrible liar—Cady, tell Daddy not to lie to Mommy—”
There was a thin cry, then a louder wail, and then the voices again.
“See? Cady doesn’t like it when you accuse me of lying. That’s right, you have Daddy’s back—” There was laughter in the male voice, even over the sound of the baby crying. After another moment, the crying faded.
“Twelve hours of labor, and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger. Daddy’s girl.”
The sounds stopped, and Jason opened his eyes. He looked at Elizabeth who was staring at the screen, tears sliding down her cheek. He turned around, and she’d frozen the picture—paused it, so that he could see himself, holding a swaddled bundle, grinning down at the baby who wasn’t crying anymore.
“I don’t—I don’t know if that helped,” she tried, lifting the remote again, but Jason closed his hand over it, his eyes still locked on the screen.
It was real. All of it. He’d been a person before the accident, a person with a full life, happy life. A family.
He knew what his daughter sounded like. And that she’d stopped crying when he’d held her. His daughter. Cadence Audrey. Cady.
She’d been his, and he’d never know her. It was just like that day, holding the photograph. Seeing her had made it a real fact that he’d learned all on his own. The first moment, really, that he’d been able to do that. He’d learned her name on his own.
And hearing her—hearing himself talk to her—
He’d learned something else. You could create a feeling from nothing more than series of facts and images and stories, and he’d been doing that little by little over these last few weeks. Finding those pieces of the Jason he didn’t know.
“Jason?”
And now, all those pieces had formed not just a picture, but a person. They’d given him just a brief glimpse of what it had been like to be a father.
He’d loved his daughter. And standing here now, sorting through the memories left behind, Jason knew that he’d learned to love her again.
His cheeks were wet when he looked at her. “How did you do it?” he asked, his voice almost hoarse. “How did you keep breathing?” How was he supposed to just keep living—
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her smile wobbly. “I just did. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to hear her—”
“Thank you. For — for giving her back to me.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Can you let it keep playing? Or will that be too hard for you?”
As her answer, Elizabeth aimed the remote at the television, and the sounds of their former life filled the room.
Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?
I’m not cut out for all these cynical clones
These hunters with cell phones
Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong, and my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m setting off, but not without my muse
July 2002
The rolling green hills rising over the crystal blue lake could have been a painting — and in fact, they’d been memorialized on canvas by many a famous artist over the centuries. The sunlight hit the water like diamonds, though the mists and clouds were just as beautiful in their own way.
Every day Elizabeth woke up in her cozy little cottage only a few minutes from Lake Windermere, she took a minute to be grateful for her escape, for the world she’d left behind. And on this day, she gathered her sketching supplies, tucked them in her satchel, then stepped out of the house. She stopped to check the lock, and when she turned back to the street, she stopped dead.
A few feet away, parked against the curb, a motorcycle sat. And its driver was leaning against it, his arms crossed. A driver with a face she hadn’t seen in more than a year.
She clutched the strap of her bag, looped across her chest, more tightly. Swallowed hard. “Jason.”
“Funny thing happened when I went home a few months ago,” Jason Morgan said, tipping his head slightly to the side in that way he had. “You weren’t there.”
She cleared her throat. “People move. You did.”
“But no one seemed to know where you went.” He straightened to his full height. “Sonny thought you’d gone to Florida after you left the island last December.”
“You know about the island?” Elizabeth made a face.
“Are you asking if I know you were there or if you took poison to fake your death?” Jason asked.
“Uh—”
“Bobbie thought you were in Colorado, visiting with some old friends.”
“Yeah, I’m a little disappointed she believed that one so easily,” Elizabeth muttered. “I haven’t spoken to anyone in Boulder in five years. Who am I looking up? Friends from middle school?”
“Your grandmother wouldn’t answer the door when I knocked.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s a shame. Gram knows where I am.”
“Nikolas thought you were in California. Lucky said Arizona. I left while they were still arguing.”
“You asked Nikolas? And Lucky?” She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile. “That’s hard to believe. I’m dying to know where Carly thinks I am.”
“I can’t repeat what Carly said in polite company,” he said dryly, and now she didn’t bother to hide her amusement. “Emily said you were traveling. That you’d come into a trust fund from your grandfather on your last birthday and decided not to come back after things with the Cassadines were settled. But she wasn’t sure exactly where you were. You never get specific even when she asked.”
“And yet, you found me, so I guess I didn’t hide all that well.” She started down the street, heading for her usual spot by the lake. After a moment, Jason fell into step next to her. “How?”
“Had a guy pull your passport,” Jason said as if that statement alone wasn’t admitting to anything illegal. “You came into Heathrow in January, but there wasn’t any other hits. Looked at the bank accounts — you opened one in London, but the bank had branches all over the United Kingdom.”
She slid a glance to him out of the corner of her eye. “And so you tracked me down when I went to the bank here?”
“No.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’d wanted to disappear. And it’s none of my business what you spend your money on. I didn’t want anyone else looking at that either.” Their arms brushed as they headed down towards the water. “I thought you’d want somewhere for your art. The Lake District is good for that.”
“It’s the fact that I picked a town called Bowness-on-Windermere isn’t it? I knew Windermere would give me away,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She dropped her bag on the picnic table. “And I used my real name.”
“And you used your real name, so once I got to the area, it didn’t take long before I heard about Elizabeth Webber, the American artist. You had a show last month. At a gallery.”
“In Keswick, so it’s not much for a start, but I did well enough to qualify for an extension on my tourist visa.” She smiled at him. “What made you go to all that trouble to track me down?”
“Why did you go to so much trouble to be lost?” Jason leaned against the picnic table, folding his arms.
“You know, it really wasn’t so much trouble. I booked the first international flight I could, and it was going to London. I’ve never been to England, so I figured I’d stay a week and figure out where to go next. One of the travel books talked about the Lake District—and Lake Windermere? Felt like a sign. I took a train up here, took one look at the place—” She looked out over the water. “And I knew I could work here. That it would finally be…quiet.” She chewed on her bottom lip, looked back at him. “I called my grandmother, but that was the only person who really needed to know. Like I said, it’s a shame she doesn’t like you.”
“You didn’t tell Emily,” Jason reminded her, and she sighed.
“Yeah. I know. The first time I talked to her, she asked about Lucky and why I didn’t tell him I was breaking the engagement. I hung up on her. It seems silly now,” she confessed, “but I was upset that Lucky was her first question. I’m really tired of my life revolving around Lucky Spencer.”
He absorbed that, then nodded. “Fair enough. When she said you were traveling, I started looking at Italy first.”
“It’s on the list,” Elizabeth said. “The thing about Italy, though…” Their eyes met. “I never really pictured myself going alone.” She paused. “Did you, um, go back? After you left last year?”
“No. I knew it wouldn’t be the same.”
Her cheeks heated and she looked away, biting her lip. “You never said why you came looking for me. I would have thought I’d be the last person you’d want to see when you came back to Port Charles.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” He smiled slowly, and her lips curved in response. How easy it all was so far away from Port Charles and all the people that had stood in judgment of them. “You know, if you have some time, I have the bike—”
Elizabeth snatched up her bag. “I can draw anytime. Let’s go.”
August 2007
A strange calm settled over Elizabeth as she sat outside the courtroom, staring at the wood-paneled doubled doors.
Ric was calling her to the stand, and she knew what her ex-husband wanted from her. Testimony that would put Jason in jail for the rest of his life for murdering Lorenzo Alcazar. And she knew that if Ric didn’t like her story, he’d attack her credibility. Diane had prepped her for that, but the lawyer hadn’t known what exactly Ric might use against her.
“Whatever you do,” Diane had told her with that pinched look on her face, “don’t lie. I can clean up anything on cross, but if you lie, it will make everything worse.”
And boy, didn’t Elizabeth know that was true? Lying had never solved a single problem, only getting her through life moment to moment.
Ric would ask about Jake. He had known paternity was an issue — and it wasn’t a stretch to guess that Lucky didn’t know any of it had happened. He would ask about her relationship with Jason.
He would ask about Jake.
And Elizabeth would have a choice.
“Elizabeth Spencer?”
A bailiff stood in the open doorway, gesturing. Elizabeth rose to her feet.
Showtime.
She kept her eyes straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone in the courtroom save for the clerk that swore her in—
Do you promise to tell the truth—
She stared at a piece of the tiled floor, saw Ric’s shoes as they drew closer to her.
“What is your profession?”
Now she lifted her gaze, locking eyes with her traitorous, sociopathic ex-husband who had never brought her anything but misery. Who would always take every opportunity to hurt Jason.
“I’m a nurse at General Hospital.” She clenched her hands in her lap, didn’t look at Jason.
“How long have you known Jason Morgan?”
“Objection,” Diane said, almost lazily. “Lacks foundation.”
“Sustained.”
Ric’s mouth tightened. “Do you know Jason Morgan.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Maybe ten years. A little less.” Keep your answers short. Answer only what you’ve been asked.
“And what is the nature of that relationship?”
Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “When?”
Ric straightened, narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a trick question, Mrs. Spencer. What is the nature of your relationship with Jason Morgan?”
“Ten years is a long time. I want to be sure I understand your question and answer truthfully.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched, and she wondered if he was silently counting to ten.
“The nature of your relationship today,” Ric said. “What is it today?”
“Oh. Friends.” And that was entirely true, Elizabeth thought. Having feelings and thoughts didn’t change status. Actions did.
That hadn’t been what he’d been expecting, and she watched him hesitate, gather himself. “All right. Have you always been friends?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Spencer, I think you know what I’m asking you, and you’re refusing to do so—”
“Objection. Argumentative. Speculative. Lacks foundation. All of the above.” Diane flashed Ric a smile when the district attorney threw her a dirty look.
“Sustained. On all accounts. If you have a question, Mr. Lansing, I suggest you ask it.”
“All right. Let’s try this. Did you overhear a conversation between Jason Morgan and the victim, Lorenzo Alcazar, shortly before Mr. Alcazar disappeared?”
“I saw them having a conversation. I didn’t hear what was said.”
“Not even a single word?” Ric wanted to know, his tone dubious. “You didn’t hear anything?”
“I didn’t hear what was said,” Elizabeth repeated.
“Have you ever been to Mr. Morgan’s home? The penthouse on Harborview Drive,” Ric added before she avoided the question.
“Yes.”
“Have you spent the night?”
“Yes.”
Ric leaned against the prosecution table, folded his arms. “Have you ever had sex with Mr. Morgan?”
Her cheeks flooded with heat, but she didn’t look at Lucky in the audience or Jason at his table. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Last August.”
“Last August,” Ric repeated. He cocked his head. “Were you married at the time?”
“Yes.”
“Did your husband know about that?”
“Before right now? No.”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Diane rose. “As scandalous and fascinating as I’m sure we are all in my defendant’s sex life, I fail to see the relevance.”
“Credibility, Your Honor,” Ric said before the judge could argue. “Mrs. Spencer has a reason to protect Jason Morgan. A very good one. And I’d like permission to explore why she’d lie on the stand here today.”
“Tight rope, Mr. Lansing,” the judge remarked. “Overruled.”
“August 2006. That would be a year ago. Your youngest son. When was he born?”
“May 4.” Elizabeth’s lips twitched. As devastating as this was to her life, she felt outside of all of that. It was just her now, dueling with Ric, fighting the same fight they’d had since they met. Just how far would she go to protect Jason Morgan?
All the way to the ends of the Earth.
“May 4,” Ric murmured. “That’s nine months, isn’t? Or a little over?”
“Your math is correct.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Spencer, who is the biological father of young — ” He made a show of checking his notes, though he would have memorized it long ago. “Jacob Martin.” He emphasized the beginning initials of Jake’s name. “Your husband or Mr. Morgan?”
And here it was. The moment where she could protect her life or tell the truth.
If she lied, there was a chance Ric knew the answer to that. And the jury would never believe the rest of her testimony.
And if she told the truth, her world would explode, and she’d never be able to take it back.
In the end, it was an easy choice. A choice she should have made months ago.
“Mr. Morgan.”
Ric’s face fell and the courtroom exploded in whispers and conversations. Now, Elizabeth looked out in the galley, at the red face of Lucky as he jerked to his feet and stalked out of the room. She bit her lip, regretting that she hadn’t done more to protect him from the truth but—
She looked now at Jason for the first time, at the stunned expression etched into his features, his mouth slightly parted. He’d never expected her to tell the truth —
“Order! Order!” The judge banged the gavel. “Mr. Lansing—”
“You’re telling me that Jason Morgan is the biological father of your son,” Ric bit out, striding forward. “Does he know that?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Are we done with this yet?” Diane demanded.
“Mr. Lansing—”
“No further questions,” Ric retorted, sending Elizabeth a scathing glare. “I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done.”
She lifted her chin. “Are you?” she asked coolly. He clenched his fists. “I told the truth, Ric. You should try it sometime.” She flicked her eyes to the judge. “Am I done?”
“Uh—” The judge cleared his throat, looked over at Diane. “Ms. Miller?”
“I have no questions for this witness.” Diane smirked. “Unless Mr. Lansing wants to recall her—”
“I’m finished with her,” Ric interrupted, offering one last fulminating glance before sitting at the table.
“Mrs. Spencer, you’re dismissed.”
Elizabeth nodded, rose to her feet, looking at Jason one more time, mouthing I’m sorry as she passed. He just smiled faintly, nodding. It’s all right, his eyes told her. They’d figure everything out later.
Outside, the cameras were flashing — reporters had rushed outside ahead of her — questions were being thrown at her, Lucky was glaring at her from across the hallway.
It was time for everything that came next.
Update Link: Fool Me Twice, Book 2: Ashes to Ashes – Teaser
Hello! I’m so excited to finally share with you some sneak peeks from Fool Me Twice, Book 2 and announce the official release date! Chapters will be posted on Monday and Friday beginning on March 4 (the day Steve returns!). I’ll be posting 2 chapters a week for a few weeks until the story picks up steam, and then the updates will vary a little bit. 1 chapter on Monday, then 2 on Friday, or 2 on Monday, then 1 on Friday. I wanted to break the updates at good cliffhangers 🙂
Enjoy the sneak peek at upcoming scenes! I’m so excited that we finally get to return to this! I hope you’re as excited as I am!
See you on Wednesday for Flash Fiction!
Catch up with Book 1 now!
Scenes from Book 2.
Heat seared into his skin, burning through the tattered remains of his white shirt and dark pants. From the top of his disheveled dark hair to the tips of his toes, still tucked, oddly enough, inside waterlogged Italian loafers.
He lay nearly dead on the sand, his cheek pressed against the ground, arms spread at his sides, the dull roar of the Aegean and the brightness of the sun piercing his head with sharp pain—
It would be easier, simpler for all if he stayed where he was, waiting for the inevitable end when the tide rose and washed him back out to sea just as it washed him ashore.
Except…
He was a Cassadine.
Death was only the beginning, and simple was for the peasants they’d ruled for centuries. Who cared that the Russian Revolution had ripped away that aristocratic privilege? Or if society’s laws tried to reign in their desire for power and wealth?
It wasn’t even the first time this year that death had pursued him. It would take more than a gunshot to the chest and a plunge into the sea below to destroy most Cassadines.
And he was no mere Cassadine, as his grandmother had been fond of telling him, though when Helena spoke those words, they always sounded more ominous than proud.
You, my darling grandson, have the blood of czars in your veins. Of warlords and Cossacks. The world should tremble before you.
“Because you don’t want it—” Sam’s voice broke. “You don’t want me. You’re angry because I’m trying to get Jason out of our lives. I’m just trying to make it all go away so we can be happy again—”
“I don’t know if I want it to go away. You think you need Jason gone, and I respect that. But—” Drew swallowed. “I’d have to give him up, too, wouldn’t I? I don’t know if we can be brothers, but you’d have me cut that off before—”
“You don’t need him! You’ve gone your whole life without him—and Jason’s not so damn special that you have to destroy everything you have to keep him.” Sam scoffed. “Believe me, I should know.”
“I’m not destroying anything, Sam. I’m telling you I want that door to stay open. And I can’t do anything that’s going to close it. If I stay with you, if I come back right now, I’m co-signing everything you’re asking to do in those papers.” Drew shook his head, sadly. “I can’t do it, Sam. I’m sorry.”
Sam brushed away a tear, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Then that’s where we are. Because it’s a deal breaker for me. I want him gone from my life the way he was supposed to be—”
“He wasn’t gone, Sam. These last few years, he was me. I was him. Or did you never truly accept that?”
She drew in a sharp breath, then stared at the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I just—I know that it has to be this way. I want it this way. And you don’t. So this is where we leave each other.”
Jason paused. “I just—it took me back. To Russia.” He flexed his hand, stared at it. “I woke up in that clinic eight months ago. Almost a year now,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, and now she focused on him, not thinking about her own silliness. “I woke up, and I couldn’t move. I spent months trying to get my strength back. Every waking moment, I only thought about one thing. Home. I had to get home.”
“Jason—”
“Survival mode, you know what that’s like. You’ve been through it. You keep moving forward, but you can’t look down because it’ll just paralyze you. You just focus on the goal. On waking up. On moving a finger. You can’t think about how it shouldn’t be that hard just to move one damned finger.”
He still held one of her hands, so she raised the other, touched his chest, her fingertips brushing against his heart, comforted by its beat. “I do know what it’s like. Not to that extent, but I do.”
“I focused on getting here. On coming home. But home wasn’t there anymore. I’m not talking about Sam,” he added, and she grimaced, hating that he’d guessed what she’d been thinking. “I’m talking about the penthouse, which was mine. I’d never lived anywhere else as long. Ten years, Elizabeth. Almost all of the life I remember, that was home. My pool table. The view of the harbor, the travel books. My bike in the parking garage. I just wanted to come home. But it wasn’t there. Not because Sam didn’t want me to be there or because she’d remarried. But it was the wrong colors, and there was a dining table now—she said she put it all into storage, but it was gone. A broken pipe in the basement, they said—”
“You never told me that,” Elizabeth said, her chest aching.
“It’s been better the last few months. I don’t think about any of it much, and I haven’t needed to worry about survival. Jake’s alive, which was a miracle I never could have dreamed. He’s here, and I get to be a part of his life.” His gaze held hers, those beautiful eyes glimmering with his own unshed tears. Jason swallowed hard. “I don’t think about it—I wasn’t thinking about it,” he corrected. “I wanted answers, sure, and there were difficult moments. It hasn’t been easy. But I had you. And the boys,” he added, “but it started with you. And with Sonny knowing me the second he saw me. And Carly, as crazy as it sounds, pulling her crap. I got to feel like myself again.”
“Yeah—maybe.” Drew nodded. “I’m gonna go get coffee. You want one?” Without waiting for Jason to answer, he crossed the street and went inside the café. At the counter, he ordered in flawless Turkish, then seeing that Jason had followed, doubled the order. He went over to the window and sat at a table.
“Do I get to ask?”
“Uh, no. I just—I knew this place had the best coffee in the district.” He stared down at the dark liquid. “And I take it black. I do. Not because of you. But Drew Cain. I always drink it black.” His throat felt oddly thick, and he couldn’t look up.
“It was after the shooting at Luke’s for me. The first time I felt connected to who I’d been before.”
Drew looked up, blinked at Jason. “What?”
“Nikolas was shot in the throat. Choking on his own blood. I knew he needed an airway. I knew how to do it. Later I found out I’d seen it in medical school. It was the first time I really felt like Jason Quartermaine and Jason Morgan were the same person. And that I was him.”
“Yeah. Everything has mostly been…I figure it’s been you. I eat pastrami on rye from Kelly’s because I remembered ordering it. But this—” Drew looked around the cafe. “I must have been stationed here or something. Because I know for a fact that I’ve sat at this table before, drinking coffee.”
No. Going after Damien Spinelli or anyone else that the brothers had brought into their circle—it was too risky, and Valentin still had to consider his own bottom line. He’d lost his half-brother as a source, but—
His eye caught a photograph of Nina on the desk, her sultry smile beckoning him like a moth to a flame. There were other ways to ensure Jason and Drew were miserable, of course. His revenge had to be subtle. Untraceable.
And he had his mother’s memories to mine. Valentin would just have to readjust Klein’s goals. He’d unlock Helena’s vast memories, glean the information he needed, and eliminate every last living Cassadine to ensure his own branch was all that remained.
He looked at the photo next to Nina, at his bright smiling princess as Charlotte beamed out at him from her fall picture. Oh, Valentin knew exactly how he’d make Jason and Drew pay for their crime.
Elizabeth rested her chin on his shoulder. “But what’s keeping you up right now isn’t whether or not you should keep asking questions. You already know the answer.”
“Yeah. I know. I just—it took a long time to look at Monica and see her as my mother. But if she did this—” Jason exhaled slowly. “If she did this, how do I look at her again? How do any of us?”
“And maybe she didn’t. How can you go on without knowing?” She pressed her lips to his skin. “Pandora’s box is open, Jason. We can’t go back.”
November 2001
Sonny Corinthos was a man of his word.
He’d promised that no one would disturb her private paradise, tucking her in the furthest private cottage on the resort, with her own private beach and road. She cooked and cleaned for herself — her existence completely unknown to all save for Sonny. Not even Nikolas or Luke and Laura had known where Elizabeth planned to hide while they completed the final stages of the war against the Cassadines.
She’d played her role, waged enough battles, and now she had completed a strategic retreat.
The sun sank below the horizon in the distance, the pinks, peaches, and purples swirling together as the dark of night gradually merged, the sparkling diamond blue waters of the Caribbean losing its bright colors.
And still she sat on the beach, her toes squished into the sand, the wind off the ocean keeping her cool and ruffling the short ends of her dark hair, the roar of the ocean drowning out almost everything except her own thoughts.
A year ago, she’d almost been happy. Lucky was home, healthy, happy, and he loved her. They loved each other, and finally they were going to build a future together. Instead—
She closed her eyes, drew her knees up to her chest, pressed her forehead against them.
They’d stopped listening to each other. Seeing each other. When had that happened? Was there a single moment, a word, a breath they’d shared that had begun the unraveling?
No. There’d been a person.
Jason sharing her studio, looking at her with just a hint of something else in his eyes, the way he’d touched her, held her—
She’d been attracted to him. Wildly so. And instead of examining it, instead of exploring it—instead of doing anything that would actually make her happy—
She’d run away.
Everything that had made her happy had been wrong. Spending time with Jason, painting, being alone in her studio—having thoughts and opinions that weren’t the same as Lucky — she’d disappeared a little more every day, and she hadn’t wanted to see it.
Not when Jason had told her he cared about her. Not when he’d nearly kissed her. Not when he’d held out his hand and offered the world —
But when Nikolas had asked her to take poison to free Lucky from his brainwashing, to place her life in his hands — now Elizabeth could see all the ways she’d faded.
Her disappearance had mostly gone unremarked upon, Sonny had reluctantly admitted. The people who mattered knew what she’d wanted to do, so they weren’t questioning it. Her grandmother had accepted the excuse that she’d gone to visit her family.
But the world at large? Didn’t seem to notice Elizabeth Webber was gone. Because she didn’t exist outside of Lucky Spencer.
Now, three weeks after that fateful night, Elizabeth wondered if maybe she could just stay gone. Stay dead. What would the difference be? Would Lucky even notice? Would anyone really miss her?
The sun had completely slipped away, and the night was lit only by the moon rising above. She should go inside — the nights were cold this time of year, and if there were clouds, she’d never be able to find her way back to the cottage.
But then there was a strange sound — and the weight of something—someone—lowering themselves to sit next to her. Breathing.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, saw the feet first — larger than her own, the skin bare, and the toes in the sand. She dragged her gaze up the long legs encased in khaki shorts, to the the white-shirt—and the man looking back at her.
She licked her lips, dry, and tried to find her voice, but it was rusty from disuse. “Jason?”
“Typically, when someone dies, there’s a funeral.”
She hadn’t expected those words, and couldn’t find a response, her eyes still wide. His face was just barely visible in the moonlight, but every line, every crease was beloved to hers. She’d studied it when he’d slept, dreamed about it for months—
“Sonny told you?”
“He didn’t have a choice.” Jason’s knees were bent, his arms clasped loosely around them. “I came to the island on my own.” He glanced behind her towards the building. “But they told me up at the resort my usual place was booked.”
“Your—” She cleared her throat, sat up, straightening out her legs flat against the sand. Her fingers dug in, the grains scratchy against her palm. “Your place.”
“It’s the most remote,” he explained, the corner of his mouth tucked up in an odd smile. “So I called Sonny. And he told me.” His brows drew together. “Poison?”
She wrinkled her nose, looked back to the ocean. “It made sense at the time. Helena wanted me out of the way, and wanted to test Nikolas’s loyalty.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Is it wrong that I was relieved?” she asked, more to herself. “I was so tired. Every moment of my life for six months—God, longer—and it was never going to end. But this plan? It made it over. For me. I could walk away.”
“What if it hadn’t worked? What if it was the real poison?” Jason demanded, his voice low.
“It would still be over.” Irritated by herself, she flopped back on the sand, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my God, it must be insufferable listening to me. I needed poison to break an engagement? What’s the matter with me?”
There was a short period of a silence before Jason spoke again. “You broke an engagement?”
She stared into the sky, concentrating on the stars. “Does it count when your fiancé is brainwashed into not knowing who you are or remembering that you exist? These are the things Dear Abby needs to write about.” She sighed. “I still have the ring. But who knows what Lucky will remember when and if they finally break the brainwashing. Maybe I’ll mail it back when this is over.”
She hauled herself back into a sitting position, forced a smile. “But it’s probably safe enough for Sonny to move me into a room at the resort. I’ll get out of your way.” She started to stand, but Jason was quicker. He was on his feet and reaching for her hand.
“Don’t move on my account. I can take a room anywhere.” His fingers stayed laced in hers. “How long until you go back to Port Charles?”
“I don’t know. Never?” she asked, almost as suggestion. “Maybe I’ll go out to Arizona. Where Emily’s rehabbing. Have you been to see her?”
“Yeah, I went a few months ago.” They started back up to the house, but he didn’t release her hand, and she wasn’t going to argue. “She’s going to stay out there. Enroll in classes next semester.”
“Smart. Both of you,” Elizabeth added, stepping up from the beach to the wooden stairs leading to the cottage. “Getting out of Port Charles. There’s something in the air that turns you insane.”
“Insane?” Jason repeated, almost grinning now. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“I just faked my death by drinking fake poison for my brainwashed back from the dead boyfriend,” Elizabeth told him. “Do you have a better word?”
He considered it, then shook his head. “No. I really don’t.”
“See, I told you. The air in Port Charles drives you crazy.” She folded her arms against the chill, looked back over the ocean. “Arizona’s landlocked isn’t it?”
“I think there’s a place on the border where the ocean is four hours away.”
“Of course you’d know that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, maybe Arizona is good for a visit. Maybe I can go for Christmas or something. But I think I want to be on the water. I’ll have to think about it more.”
She reached for the sliding door into the cottage, but he snagged her hand. She looked back, frowning. “What?”
“You’re serious. You’re really thinking about not going home?”
“Home.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m not sure Port Charles is my home. I don’t miss it. I miss my grandmother a little,” she admitted. “But we’ve been arguing with each other for years. She’ll probably appreciate the peace. I haven’t been happy in a long time, Jason. Why should I go back to people and places that won’t change that? Isn’t that why you left?”
“Yeah, but—” His fingers gripped her arm just a little more tightly, his eyes searching hers. “I just didn’t think—you took poison for him.”
“I thought I did. But now I know I did it for me. It was the only way to escape, and I’m taking it.” She shifted, facing him more directly. “Will you go with me? To Arizona? We can go see Emily.”
“What about after that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to make any more plans. I just want to live in the moment and be happy there.” She licked her lips again. “But I understand if you don’t want to. You’ve probably got your own plans—”
“No—” Jason stopped her, then smiled—that long, slow one that she so rarely saw from him. “No, I like your idea. Let tomorrow care take of itself.”
She grinned back at him. Taking poison had been the best idea she’d ever had.
Something med school did not cover
Someone’s daughter, someone’s mother
Holds your hand through plastic now
“Doc, I think she’s crashing out”
And some things you just can’t speak about
Only 20 minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany
Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you’ve seen
April 2020
The house was dark and quiet when she pulled in the driveway, and for a long moment, Elizabeth Webber sat in the driver’s seat, staring up at windows. They were all pulled shut and locked—they’d never been opened even after spring had broken over upstate New York. In fact, she couldn’t even remember if she’d turned off the central heating yet.
Finally, she switched off the ignition and shoved the door open. She was still on autopilot, still moving forward, functioning even though her brain seemed to have turned off. Her body felt strangely small and unclothed, shed of the heavy hospital gowns, masks, and shields that had been her uniform for nearly a month.
The world had felt normal only weeks ago, chugging along at a normal pace. She’d gone to work, taken care of her boys, passed her son off to his father for his weekends, and enjoyed life with her friends.
Elizabeth stopped in front of the door, staring at the key in her hand, almost forgetting how to use it. When had she last been home?
Finally, she was at the door. She dropped her bag by the coat rack and tugged the mask off her face, wincing at the straps that dug into her ears. She hadn’t found the time to buy comfortable masks, and they were so limited at the hospital that she’d grabbed some pediatric ones.
Hospital staff was expected to be completely masked up from the time they went off duty until they reached home.
Not that this felt like home right now.
Elizabeth looked around blearily at the cold fireplace, the clean floors, and the tables. She missed her boys. She missed the sound of them, the sight of them, the evidence of their lives. Books and toys and clothes—
A sob crawled up her throat, but she forced it down. She had one more thing she needed to do before she could crawl into bed for the next twelve hours.
Elizabeth sat on the sofa and reached for the tablet charging on the table. She cradled it in her hands, then clicked contacts.
A moment later, FaceTime connected, and her youngest’s son face appeared on the screen, his smile bright. “Mommy! Mommy!”
“Hey, baby.” Elizabeth smiled in return. “Where are your brothers?”
“Right here.” Ten-year-old Aiden shifted so that he could reveal he had a brother on either side of him—thirteen-year-old Jake and sixteen-year-old Cameron. “We waited for you.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I got stuck at work a little longer.” The world felt lighter and heavier all at the same time. There were her precious babies, the family she’d sent away to keep safe as she worked to save others. They were okay. They were healthy, and they had each other.
“Work okay?” Cam asked, reaching to hold the tablet steady. “You looked tired, Mom.”
“I am, but it’s okay. I get to sleep for a few hours.” And maybe she’d eat. She remembered Patrick shoving a muffin in her face at some point that day. Had that been today? “How’s school?”
Jake grimaced. “I hate Zoom,” he muttered. “Half the kids don’t turn on the camera, and my teachers spend most of the time telling them to do it, and then before you know it, we’re done. Plus, they didn’t even show us how to do these stupid equations—”
“Your teachers are trying—”
“I know, Mom. They hate Zoom, too—”
“Miss Tait said that I got a star,” Aiden said, poking his head in. “She showed me! She made a star chart in her house, and we’re all on there! It’s like school only not because we don’t get recess which is stupid—but—”
“They’re still making us take our AP exams,” Cameron said bitterly. “We need to get this stupid software and set up on our computers—”
“I missed my ELA Zoom,” Jake interrupted. “I didn’t mean to, but the teacher was late, so I thought I didn’t have it, so I left, but then she emailed me. She’s really mad, Mom.”
Elizabeth’s head swam as she processed all of that, tried to think of something to say. To remind Jake to have more patience with teachers who were trying so very hard, and for Cameron to have some grace with the world even though it sounded insane testing was still happening—
“Hey—” another voice came from behind them. “One at a time. Your mom’s tired.” Jason Morgan, Jake’s father, came into view over the sofa. “I talked to Jake’s ELA teacher; it’s fine. She had internet issues and was three minutes late.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “In college—”
“You’re in eighth grade, not college,” Jason said simply. “And now you’ll remember to wait longer next time.”
“I know,” Jake muttered.
“It’s fifteen minutes in college,” Elizabeth said, but now she was smiling. Because, of course, her son had overreacted. He had her flair for the dramatic. “You should keep that in mind.”
“It’s fine about the test,” Cameron said. “Jason said he’d have Spinelli remote into the computer and make sure it was set up. The directions were confusing, but Spinelli loves that crap.”
“Oh, well, thank him for me.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know how much Zoom classes suck. No one likes them. And I’ll make sure I thank Miss Tait for the stars the next time I see her, Aiden.”
“Jason did that!” Aiden told her. “But she likes you better.”
“That’s because she’s dating a cop, and Dad works at the warehouse,” Jake told Aiden.
“What does that mean?” Aiden wanted to know.
“Nothing,” Jason cut off his son with a look. The blond teen just snickered. “Hey, go upstairs and play some video games. I need to talk to your mom. I’ll call you when we’re done.”
“He’s gonna tell her that he caught you Zooming with Emma,” Jake told Cameron, who scowled. Jake jumped up and dashed for the stairs, the oldest chasing him. Aiden, who never wanted to miss any action, followed.
Jason sat on the sofa, the tablet in his hands. “Sorry about that—”
“No, no—” Elizabeth rubbed the side of her cheek. “I’m sorry. I should have—I should have taken a hotel room or something—the three of them are a lot to have around the penthouse—”
“It’s okay. They keep it from being too quiet,” Jason told her. “I stopped by your place today and put more groceries in the fridge. And I turned off the central.”
“You didn’t have to—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Thank you for taking them. Laura’s putting out so many fires—all these stupid protests over the shutdown, and your mom hasn’t left the hospital. I tried to get her to come home with me, but she’s still trying to track down more respirators and protective equipment—” She closed her eyes, her mind drifting as she lost track of what she was saying.
“You need to get some sleep—”
“I do, but I don’t—” She looked at him. “You and the boys are the first people I’ve seen in days that don’t work at the hospital or aren’t dying.”
He was quiet for a moment. “It’s bad, isn’t it? I’m keeping Jake and Aiden from the news, but Cameron knows.”
“Um, we lost four more today in my ward.” She stopped. “Do you remember Father Coates?”
“Yeah—” His face creased. “Oh.”
“Yeah. He couldn’t even—” Her eyes were so heavy. “We couldn’t even let in anyone for last rites, so I found the Bible, and I did it for him. I don’t know if I did it right. Do you think it’ll work?”
“I do,” he promised her. “God wouldn’t—”
“I’m not sure I believe in God anymore.” The tears came then, the hot rushing release that streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just had a bad day—” She put the tablet on the table and put her head in her hands.
“Elizabeth—”
“I’m fine. I should have—I should have gone home with Patrick and Robin, but they haven’t had a minute to be alone in weeks—they’ve been working in different wards and opposite shifts—” She picked the tablet back up and looked at him.
“I hate that you’re doing this alone.”
“There was no other choice. I couldn’t do my job and stay with the boys. I might have brought it to them. I know kids aren’t getting sick right now, but that’s because we shut down the schools. They’re not in the world, and God, you don’t see what this does to people—there are no visitors.” She closed her eyes. “Do you remember the quarantine before Jake was born?”
“Of course.”
“It was different. I don’t know why it felt different.”
“Because it was just us, and it was done to us. We could work for a cure, for a vaccine ourselves. And maybe Cameron was too young then to know what was going on.” He paused. “I get it. Because I could help then. I went out, and I found the damn vaccine. I can’t do anything but stay here and keep the boys in school and not murdering each other. It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s everything to me. When this is over—and I have to believe the day will come when it is—I know that my boys are safe. It’s everything,” she repeated. “Are you sure they’re not in the way?”
“No. No,” he repeated. “Believe it or not, everything is shut down. I don’t know how long any of that will last, but hopefully, until this is over.” Jason hesitated. “Have they come out with any new guidelines about transmission? I mean—are they sure that you can’t just really shower and disinfect at the hospital, then come home—”
“They’re doing studies, but we don’t know anything. We don’t know how to treat it—we don’t know why some people get it and show no symptoms—” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes again. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Robin’s working on that in the lab, but we just don’t know enough yet.”
“When do you go into work tomorrow?” he asked. “I can bring the boys by. We’ll just be in the driveway. They need to see you.”
“Around nine. That would—” Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “That would be great. Don’t they have meetings—”
“I’ll email their teachers. They’ll understand. Miss Tait asked about you. Wanted you to know Aiden is doing great. Cameron’s English teacher said his essay he wrote last week was his best all year, and Jake—well, he hates everything about this, but we’re dealing with it.”
“I hate everything about this, too,” she muttered.
“He has your resilience,” Jason told her. “He hates it right now, but he’ll get through it.”
“Resilience, huh?” She laughed. “You used to call it stubbornness.”
“It can be both.” They were quiet for a long minute. “I’ll call the boys back down—”
“No, no.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Cameron will know I was crying, and they worry about me enough. I’ll see them tomorrow. That’s something to look forward to. Maybe I can open a window, and we can talk if you keep them near the sidewalk.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even—how’s Danny handling all of this?”
“Okay. We’re FaceTiming as much as we can, but I haven’t seen him since this started.” Jason paused. “We’re basically quarantining here, so Sonny and Carly are talking about doing a pod with their kids, and it’d be good for the boys to see Joss and someone other than me. I’m hoping Sam will let Danny come over and be part of it.”
“That sounds good. Really.” She sighed. “Is Sam still mad?”
“No,” Jason said quickly, which meant that she was. Sam hadn’t been happy Jason had agreed to quarantine with Elizabeth’s boys, claiming they’d been exposed thanks to Elizabeth’s job and had decided Danny wouldn’t come to Jason’s for the shutdown. That had been a month ago, and Elizabeth had all but forgotten about it with everything going on at work.
“I’ll let you deal with that since I don’t care,” Elizabeth said without thinking. Then winced. “Sorry—”
“No, you have more important things to worry about. It’s fine. Even if I hadn’t take Aiden and Cam, Jake would be here, and she’d have the same argument. She’s just scared because of Danny and the cancer.”
“I know. I know. She should be more cautious. I would be, too.” That didn’t change the fact that Sam could and would use any opportunity to take a jab at Elizabeth and Jake, but that was a problem for another day. “I’m going to head up to bed. Tell the boys I love them, and I’ll see them tomorrow.”
“Okay. Eat something first,” he said as her finger hovered over the red button to end the call. “I left soup.”
And now Elizabeth’s laughter was genuine and full-throated. Tears slid down her cheeks again. “You’ve been waiting twenty years to say that.”
“Couldn’t resist.”
She ended the call and then went to heat up the soup.
I want you to know
I’m a mirrorball
I can change everything about me to fit in
You are not like the regulars
The masquerade revelers
Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten
March 2001
The white silk was just barely visible beneath a newspaper he’d carelessly tossed on the top of the dresser after she’d made a hasty exit that day.
Or maybe it hadn’t been careless at all, Jason thought, sliding yesterday’s edition of the Port Charles Herald aside to reveal the gloves Elizabeth had peeled from her arms the day before. She’d come to him, dressed like a character from one of the old movies Robin had loved to watch — the strapless black dress that revealed more than he’d ever let himself think about, the tiara in her air, the false diamonds glinting in the dim lights—
The layers of makeup she’d begged him to remove—
And the gloves she’d pulled off when he’d hesitated too long in washing her face. She’d tugged them, sliding them down her arms, revealing even more soft skin he knew would feel as silky as the gloves—
Jason picked them up now, sliding his fingers across the material, knowing now that he was right about that, but the lingering frustration that he didn’t know how her lips would taste—
His fingers clenched around the gloves, holding them tight, as he remembered their last conversation, her refusal to see what had building between them for weeks. Longer. Months. Before he’d ever left Port Charles in the first place.
If the soft knock at the door had come any later, Jason knew he would have been able to tuck away his irritation, to talk himself out of the frustration that came less from Elizabeth pulling away and more from how much he’d wanted to pull her close and take the choice out of her hands.
But it didn’t, and Jason knew almost before he’d yanked the door open, who he’d find on the other side.
She stood there, her hand still raised, maybe she’d meant to knock again. Her hair was loose now, a jumble of soft curls falling down around her cheeks. She wore makeup again, but not as heavy as the day before, her lips painted a dark red and not the soft candy pink.
“What?” Jason demanded, almost harshly, angrily, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back, just looked at him. Maybe she understood, he thought, maybe she had admitted to herself somewhere deep inside that something had almost happened, and it wasn’t fair to keep coming back to him like this—
“I have to return the gloves to Laura,” Elizabeth said finally. Her eyes dropped to his hands, his fist curled around one of them, the knuckles almost white. She lifted her gaze to his. “I quit.”
“W-What?” Jason stepped back reflexively, so stunned by the words, but she thought he’d meant to admit her entry so she came forward and he kept backing up because away was safer, away meant he wouldn’t do anything stupid like grab her by the waist, and—
“I quit,” Elizabeth repeated. She didn’t look away from him, kicked his door closed with the heel of her boot, then cleared her throat. “I told you—I told you Lucky and I would go to Italy with my modeling money. And I heard those words. I heard myself say them. And they were awful. I don’t want to be a model.”
His chest eased slightly, because at least that was something. The first honest words she’d spoken in weeks. “Okay.”
“And I’m angry at myself for not telling Lucky no. For not saying it. At Lucky for not listening.” Tears clung to her lashes. “And I’m furious with you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “What did I do?”
“You came home.” Her voice faltered. “You came home and you made me see. I didn’t know I wasn’t happy. I didn’t know that I hated my life and everything in it. I didn’t know I was miserable. I thought it was just how things were. And then you came home. And you came to the studio. And you gave me the glass, and you talked to me, and you listened, and now I know it doesn’t have to be that way, and it was just so much easier when you weren’t here.”
“Easier to be miserable? Is that what you want?”
“No. No. But—” She closed her eyes, and a tear made a slow journey down her cheek, to the tip of her jaw, leaving a streak to mark its descent. “No. But it’s so hard to throw away dreams. A miracle. I got a miracle, and I don’t want it.” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her mouth, turned away. “What kind of person does that make me? He talks about how he thought about me all the time. How thinking about me got him through being kidnapped.”
Any lingering frustration faded, and Jason saw for the first time the weight that had been put on her shoulders. “Elizabeth.”
“I don’t want to go to Italy with Lucky. That’s what I thought. When I heard myself say it, I knew I’d never go. Because I don’t want him.” She looked at him, tears still clinging to those dark lashes. “He was right to say I shouldn’t see you. Because he knew before I could even let myself say it. I don’t want him, Jason. I don’t love him anymore.”
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t produce a single word. He stood there like a block of concrete, frozen.
“And if I hadn’t come here yesterday—if you’d never touched me or looked at me the way you do—” Elizabeth came towards him then, and Jason couldn’t look away, couldn’t think of anything else. “I wanted you to kiss me. And you didn’t.”
“I—I wanted to,” he finally managed. “I didn’t want to scare you.” Or have her flee from the room, never to return.
Elizabeth reached forward, took the glove he still held in one hand and gently tugged. He released it. She tossed it to the side, to the dresser where its twin still lay.
“I was afraid yesterday,” she said, tilting her chin up. She swallowed. “Because I don’t think I could have kissed you and gone back to my life. I think it would change everything, and I didn’t know if I was ready for that.”
He raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed her jaw. “Are you ready now?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. The corners of her lips curved up just slightly. “But I can’t go one more minute without finding out.”
He dipped his head low, bringing their mouths closer, until their breaths mingled. His thumb swept over the dip in her chin, and then he kissed her.
1
I can see you standing, honey
With his arms around your body
Laughin’, but the joke’s not funny at all
When the door slammed behind Elizabeth, Jason had stared at it for a long time, willing it to be different. For this to be a waking nightmare, for her to come back, for himself to run after, to stop her.
But he did none of those things. Instead, he’d climbed the stairs to the second floor, looked down the small stretch of hallway with four doors. The bathroom, two guest rooms, a master bedroom. They were empty now, he thought.
He walked like a zombie to the room at the end of the hall — not the master, he’d given that to Elizabeth — but the smaller room he’d taken for himself, one not much larger than Jake’s. He stripped his clothes and shoes as he walked across the thick carpet, falling into bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.
Waiting for the world to finally stop.
But sleep had never come. The world had slowly turned towards the sun, the streaks of colors more than visible in this room without curtains or blinds. Colors that Elizabeth could have described for him in vivid detail, with names for the specific shades of purple, pink, and gold.
But they’d never seen a sunrise together, not in this room or any other.
He rose from bed, the grit of sleepless nights in his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of clothes that hadn’t been on the dresser when he’d stopped in the night before. Two pairs of blue jeans, three shirts, white socks rolled up into balls, and two pairs of briefs.
She’d done his laundry, Jason thought. He’d never thought about it — the clean clothes that had appeared in his dresser for months. There’d been no time to spare for logistics. He hadn’t questioned the clean clothes, the pot of coffee that always seemed to be ready, the covered plates in the oven.
Jason stood, pulled on his clothes, tied the laces on the boots, and left the rest of the laundry on his dresser. He knew where he’d find her — he’d memorized the schedule the guard had given him, needing to know where she was at every minute, to be sure that one piece of his world was in order. That she was safe.
He stopped in the courtyard, looked through the glass window panes, watched her behind the counter. Had she slept? Were there regrets now in her mind? If he went inside—
But before the thought could form, a familiar form appeared, taking a stool. Blocking Elizabeth from his view. Lucky Spencer.
He waited another moment, waited for Lucky to leave, to move, for just one more glimpse of her, for a sign that she wanted him to come in. That she didn’t mean what she’d said—
Lucky shifted slightly, just enough for Elizabeth’s eyes to drift away from him. To the door.
To Jason.
2
And it took you five whole minutes
To pack us up and leave me with it
Holdin’ all this love out here in the hall
He was here. The fingers clutching the ceramic mug trembled, then tightened to keep her grip. He was here. Standing in the courtyard. Looking at her. Did he want to come in? Did he miss her? Was he sorry? Was she sorry? Did any of it matter? Oh, what would she say if he came in—
“Elizabeth. E-liz-a-beth.”
Elizabeth dragged her eyes away just for a moment to look at her ex-boyfriend, her brows drawing together at the familiar whine in his tone, the irritating way he drew out the syllables of her name. “What?”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Elizabeth looked back to the courtyard and swallowed hard. Jason was gone. Gone. Like all the empty, lonely nights she’d spent in his penthouse, waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to let her look after him, to be with him—it was all gone.
“Elizabeth?” This time Lucky’s voice wasn’t as impatient. He twisted on the stool, followed her gaze. “What am I missing?”
Everything. Nothing.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Never mind. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Well, of course not. Not with all that news about Sonny and Jason.” His mouth pinched. “You didn’t know. I knew as soon as I saw the breaking news — I knew he’d lied to you. I tried to—”
“Don’t. I don’t—I don’t want an ‘I told you so’ today. You said you wanted something. What?”
“Oh. Well, I need to track down my dad, and I thought you might have some ideas—”
Lucky’s voice drifted and she couldn’t focus. Couldn’t absorb any of it. She’d walked out on Jason the night before, had packed her things in a red haze of rage, humiliated, furious—
She’d been in Jason’s room when she’d learned the news. Standing there, her hands clutched around a stack of clean clothes, wondering if she’d see him that night—
And Zander had rushed in, eyes wild, babbling about Sonny being alive, and why hadn’t she said anything? Why didn’t she tell him the truth—
Doing his laundry, cooking, and cleaning for him like a stupid girl, Elizabeth thought. And he’d been lying. Lying for weeks and days and hours and minutes. Spending time with everyone but her. Ignorant little girl.
“Elizabeth? Will you help?”
She tuned back in, then shook her head. “I don’t think I can do anything today, Lucky. I’m just…I’m tired. Maybe some other time.”
3
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
He’d memorized her schedule at Kelly’s months ago. She opened three days a week, and closed two. And today, she had opened.
It had taken more courage that he’d thought to pull the door open just fifteen minutes before she usually cashed out, and Jason wasn’t sure what it said about him that he’d rather face gunfire that the look in her eyes again. That brief moment this morning—
But nothing would be fixed if he avoided her, and he wanted to fix this. To know what she’d meant by he’d ruined everything—how could he have done that with just one lie? Was that all he’d get?
There was another waitress behind the counter when he entered the diner, and Jason thought for a moment that he’d made a mistake. But no, there was Elizabeth now, stepping in from the kitchen, still facing the inside of the small room, talking to the cook.
“I’m going to cash out—” Elizabeth’s profile turned towards him as she spoke, the words faltering when she saw him at the counter, sitting on the stool. She swallowed hard, her hands fluttering to the top edge of her apron. Their eyes held for a moment, before she broke the contact. “I’m going to cash out now,” she said to the waitress. “Is that okay?”
The waitress—her name started with a P, Jason thought—darted quick glances back and forth between Jason and Elizabeth. “Sure, Liz.”
This was the moment, he thought. He straightened. He’d ask to give her a ride. Just like always. He’d find a way to fix it—
“Elizabeth, great, you’re still here.”
Her head whipped around at the voice from the kitchen. Lucky came in, a bit breathless. “I need your help,” he said.”
“I already told you—”
“But it’s an emergency. There’s no one else I can call—”
Jason sighed, slid off the stool, and left the diner. He didn’t want to know who she’d choose. How many times had it been Lucky? He didn’t think he could do it one more time.
Not today.
4
You’re not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
Elizabeth heard the bell over the door ring, and she knew what she’d find even before she turned around. Jason was in the courtyard, already heading towards the piers. Tears burned. Why had he had come in, looked at her like that, and left?
Why did he always walk away from her? No. That was me last night, she thought. I walked away, and barely let him speak. And now I’m surprised he doesn’t want to wait around?
“I said it’s an emergency—”
“Call Sarah,” Elizabeth snapped, glaring at Lucky. “Or Nikolas. Or Gia. Your aunt. Go talk to your sister. You probably haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Just stop.” She put her hands up. “Stop. You didn’t bother me for two months, Lucky. Why are you suddenly everywhere I look today?”
Lucky made a face. “Nikolas and Gia aren’t going to help me find my dad. Okay? And Lulu needs him. I just need to get Dad home, and figure things out from there. Just hear me out.”
“Not today. Just—not today.” She yanked her purse out from under the counter, and headed for the door.
But by the time she reached the courtyard, Jason was nowhere to be seen. He could have gone to the warehouse, in the early stages of being rebuilt. He could have gone home.
He could have gone a thousand places, and she’d have no reason to know where.
Elizabeth pressed the heel of her palm against her eyes, took a deep breath, then went towards her studio. She needed to sleep. To take a deep breath.
It would all be different tomorrow.
5
You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
I think I’ve seen this film before
Sonny swirled the bourbon in the glass. “Source at the hospital says Alcazar won’t be released for another week, so that buys us a little time to figure things out. I know you hated all the lying—”
“What are we trying to figure out?” Jason interrupted, not interested in hearing Sonny justify himself again. The choice had been made, and he’d followed orders. He hadn’t pushed hard enough to bring Elizabeth into the secret, and that was on him. “He’s in the hospital. Make a call, Sonny. Get it over with.”
“He’s being protected by the government—they need his contacts in South America.” Sonny sighed, scratched his temple. “So we need to make sure Brenda’s secured. You need to talk to her—”
“I’m done talking to Brenda for you,” Jason cut in, and Sonny just looked at him. “Deal with her yourself.”
“Jase—”
“And while you’re at it, find someone else to deal with your sister. I don’t have the time to handle my job and her security.”
“Seems to me your schedule just opened up,” Sonny said almost dryly.
“What does that mean?”
“Uh, Wally on the front desk. Said Elizabeth left last night. With her suitcase. She mad about what happened?”
“What do you think?” Jason bit out, his shoulders tense. “I don’t want to talk about it—”
“Well, if it’s going to distract you—”
“Distract me,” Jason echoed, then shook his head. “Carly walking out on you, would that be distracting?”
“Carly’s my wife, Jase. There’s a difference.”
“No, there’s not. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He yanked the door open and left before Sonny could say something else that made Jason want to put his fist through a wall.
6
I can see you starin’, honey
Like he’s just your understudy
Like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me
She could have called him. If she really wanted to talk to him—
If he really wanted to talk to her—
Either one of them could have simply dialed a number and been connected in minutes. But her phone remained quiet in her hand, nothing coming.
Or going out.
“There you are.” Lucky jogged down the last few steps of the docks steps, bounded over to the bench where she was sitting. “Mike said you just left—”
Elizabeth sighed, tipped her head back, closed her eyes. Two days. He’d given her two days, she thought. The time and space she’d asked for her.
She only wished it had been enough.
“I’ve got a lead on my dad,” Lucky was saying when she looked at him, focused on what he was actually saying. “I think maybe he got picked up in Alabama. Or someone with the same alias.” He paused. “Are you listening?”
She was trying to, but a crane further along the waterfront had swung into action, drawing her attention. Lucky followed her gaze.
“They’re rebuilding again? You’d think they’d take the hint.” He looked back. “You talk to him yet?”
“No.” She looked down again at the phone. Silence. “No.”
“If he was really sorry, he’d have found you. Said something.”
He’d tried to, hadn’t he? Or had he just been at Kelly’s. Was he at the warehouse now, overseeing the rebuild? Out on the bike? Doing a job? Guarding Courtney or Brenda? What was he doing?
Was he thinking of her?
“What did you say about your dad?” Elizabeth asked. “Something about Alabama?”
7
Second, third, and hundredth chances
Balancin’ on breaking branches
Those eyes add insult to injury
She wasn’t behind the counter. Jason peered through the windows, waiting for her to appear from the kitchen or from a corner of the diner not visible to him. She was supposed to open today, which meant her shift should be ending soon.
But that was the last time he’d talked to her about her schedule. Had it changed?
Jason pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts until he found her name on the speed dial. One button. If he had held it down, he could find out for sure where she was. What she was doing.
He could call the guard that still followed her to and from work. Jason didn’t ask for reports, he never had. The man was just there to keep her safe. Not to report back. But he’d wanted to, Jason thought. He’d wanted to ask if she was all right.
But it’d be cheating to ask someone else. He wouldn’t have a reason to talk to her, to look at her.
He looked towards the docks, where her building would be visible. Was she there? It would be getting cold soon. Was her studio heating better than the winter he’d stayed there? Or worse. He could go there. Find her. Talk to her.
He could call her.
But the phone went back in his pocket, and he turned to leave the courtyard.
Then someone called his name.
8
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
Elizabeth rubbed her arms absently as she walked along Elm Street, closing the distance between the pier and the parking lot at Kelly’s. It was chillier than yesterday, and she should have grabbed a sweater or a jacket.
She had switched shifts with Penny, not wanting the quiet of the opening crowd or the impatience of the breakfast rush, and tips were better at lunch. And maybe Jason was more likely to stop in during the middle of the day.
She turned the corner into the courtyard, stopping when she saw the door half open, and Jason in the entrance. Her heartbeat picked up.
She could do it today. Just talk to him. Say hello. Something. Maybe even smile at him so he’d know it was safe to talk to her.
She wasn’t even angry anymore. Just sad. Lonely. Irritated with both of them for that night in the penthouse. She hadn’t give him a chance to speak — but he hadn’t stopped her.
What had happened to that old, easy comfort before them? The ability to say anything to each other without fear?
She opened her mouth, her lips already forming his name—and then someone else darted out of the diner in front him. A streak of golden blonde hair.
“Thanks so much!” Courtney said, turning back to the doorway. “For walking me home, I mean. I guess I’m just a little nervous with everything going on.”
“It’s fine,” Jason said, though maybe Elizabeth was imagining the reluctance in his tone.
“Oh, hey, Liz!”
Jason turned, saw her, his hand sliding down from the door. Their eyes met.
9
I’m not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
“I didn’t think you were working today!” Courtney said, her eyes overly bright, darting back and forth between them. “Penny asked me to open for her.”
“I switched with her,” Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat. “Jason. Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, the word almost a rush of breath. She’d looked at him, spoken. That was good? It was a sign, wasn’t it? “I…was looking for you.”
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly—was he imagining that maybe it was a smile? “Oh—”
“Well, now you know she’s working this shift,” Courtney said, drawing both their attention. “Jason’s going to walk me home. You know, with AJ still in DC, and what happened on the docks a few weeks ago.”
Elizabeth’s eyes dropped, and she looked away. His stomach tightened. Of course Elizabeth remembered, he thought. It had been the last time they’d seen each other before that terrible night. When she’d seen Courtney’s lipstick on him, and she’d looked at him with those sad eyes.
“I should get inside,” Elizabeth said, taking a small step towards the diner, one hand stretching out for the door. She was close, Jason thought. Too close. He should move, but he couldn’t.
Instead he held the door open for her, but stayed where he was, forcing her to duck slightly under his arm, her arm brushing against his chin, close enough that he could smell the tart citrus of her shampoo. It was almost physically painful, he thought, to be this close to her, and not touch.
He just wanted to hold her. To tell her he was sorry, that he wanted to fix this—
“We’d better go,” Courtney said, forcing him to look at her. To remember that she existed. Jason exhaled slowly. There was nothing he could do right now. Elizabeth was working, and there was no time for conversation.
He’d come back though. She’d looked at him, had almost smiled.
He’d hold on to that until he could come back.
10
You were my crown
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
She never stopped talking. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d noticed that before, or if now everything Courtney did irritated him. If she hadn’t asked him for the walk, would he have seen Elizabeth before her shift? Would there have been time for something more than a few words?
“I really shouldn’t have reminded Elizabeth about the docks,” Courtney chirped drawing his attention.
“What?”
“The night I got mugged on the docks. She talked to me the next day.” Courtney paused at the curb, glanced both ways for cars, then continued across the street. Jason reluctantly followed. “I don’t know what you said, but she thought I’d been hurt or that I was really upset, and I wasn’t—I told her that. But I was really grateful you were there.”
Jason grimaced, muttered his irritation beneath his breath. “Yeah, it’s fine. Listen—”
“You guys are going to fix this, you know. Just apologize. I’m not mad anymore about Sonny lying to me,” Courtney said. She stopped at the door to her building, turning wide blue eyes on him. “And he’s my brother! If I could forgive you and Sonny for lying about my own family, Elizabeth can get over this.”
“It’s not—”
“I mean, it’s not like you guys were serious,” Courtney continued. “She was dating Zander Smith like a month ago, right?”
Jason clenched his jaw, looked away. “Here’s your building. I have to go.”
“You’re not going to walk me up—”
“No. Call Sonny. Get a guard.” Or a dog. Or a friend, Jason thought, almost bitterly, heading back to Kelly’s where he’d left his bike.
He wouldn’t be able to talk to Elizabeth until closing, so he’d have to distract himself somehow.
11
I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Elizabeth set the tub of dirty dishes down behind the counter, frowned at Lucky. “What?”
“Alabama,” Lucky said. “We talked about it this morning.” He furrowed his brow. “You haven’t been listening to me at all have you?”
“Sometimes.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Lucky. I’m not being a very good friend right now.”
“No, but it’s okay.” He twisted off the end of a straw wrapper. “I haven’t been a good friend to you, either. You think it’s too late for us to do that? Be friends?”
“Maybe.”
Lucky made a face. “I don’t want it to be. So, okay, I’m going to sit here, put on my supportive face, and you tell me everything about Jason. I promise I won’t say one word about why you’re better off.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I’m not doing that. Go back for Alabama. I’ll be fine.” Somehow, she thought, she’d made that the truth.
12
So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you
The hours crawled by. The minutes, the seconds, all of it felt three times as long as any other day. She’d looked at him, said his name. Had almost smiled.
That had to mean she was ready to listen to him didn’t it?
He went to the closet, to take down the lock box with his gun. It didn’t matter if Alcazar was in the hospital, or there were no other threats — he never left the penthouse without it. But when he reached for the lock box on the shelf, something caught his eye on the closet floor.
A jacket. Elizabeth’s. He left the box on the shelf, crouched down to pick it up, his fingers sliding over the leather.
He’d bought this for her that Christmas, Jason thought, absently walking towards the desk. She’d worn it that night in her studio, when he’d kissed her. When she’d kissed him.
When everything had seemed so much easier. Before it had gone wrong. And now here they were, further apart than ever.
“Knock, knock—” Carly pushed the door open. “Hey. Sonny wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner—” She straightened. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“You’re holding—what’s that? A jacket? It’s too small to be yours.” She came inside. “It’s Elizabeth’s, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. She must have…” Been in a hurry to leave, he thought, grimacing. “She left it,” he muttered, tossing it on the desk, bracing himself for whatever Carly would say next.
But Carly bit her lip, sighed. “I felt bad, you know. I almost told her the truth.”
Jason frowned, met her eyes. “What?”
“She cleaned up the penthouse after the funeral. Made me brownies.” A smile flitted across her face. “It was nice of her, you know? And I thought I’d enjoy having a secret from her but I couldn’t. She was so worried about you all the time. Waiting for you to come home.” Carly folded her arms. “I didn’t get to enjoy it at all. I told her you’d explain everything when you saw her, but—”
“I didn’t see her much,” Jason murmured. “I avoided her.”
“I thought so. You know, when Sonny told me she’d left, I thought I’d feel relieved. You know? You deserve so much, Jason. Someone who loves you. And I still don’t know if that person is Elizabeth—”
“Carly—”
“I just wish we’d told her.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the jacket. “So do I.”
13
All this time
We always walked a very thin line
Elizabeth smiled faintly at Don. “No, you go ahead, I’ll finish locking up.”
“You sure?” The cook hesitated, his hand on the door to the alley. “You cool with being alone?”
“I’m not really.” She gestured to the courtyard where a man in a suit was standing. The guard didn’t make himself visible unless she was closing, and she appreciated that small touch. And that Jason hadn’t pulled the guard after she’d left.
“Ah. Well, then you have a good night, Liz.”
Elizabeth went back into the diner, glancing to the courtyard a few times as she cleaned up the diner. Would Jason come back? What would she say if he did?
He’d come looking for her, which was more than she’d did, though she’d done her share of chasing in August, she reminded herself.
Then, of course, she’d been trying to convince him that Zander was a terrible mistake. One she’d give anything to take back, so maybe it was fair that she’d been doing the chasing then. Zander. One of her many, terrible mistakes Elizabeth thought. All the times she’d taken Lucky’s side, even when she’d known Jason wouldn’t have attacked first.
But she’d truly thought she’d known Lucky wouldn’t either. How were you supposed to choose between two people who had never lied to her?
She bit her lip. What would she say if he came to her? What was the point? She’d forgive him, and then do something else to prove she was an awful person who didn’t deserve him.
Oh, God, why had she walked out like that? What was wrong with her?
14
You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
He’d faced gunfire and bombs, and yet his pulse skittered approaching the courtyard. The diner had officially closed a few minutes earlier. Jason saw the guard assigned to her in the corner, though he didn’t speak to him. The tables and chairs had already been stacked, and inside the diner, there was just one lone diner lingering over a cup of coffee.
And it wasn’t Lucky.
Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen, smiled at the customer, and set down a bill. Her lips kept moving, and then a moment later, the customer stood and headed for the door.
Her eyes followed the patron as he left, then found his gaze. She smiled tremulously, and he took that as encouragement.
Jason caught the door when the customer left, and went inside.
15
All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
“Um, hey.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands against the green apron. The door behind Jason swung closed, the bells jingling. “You came back.” She hadn’t been sure if he would.
Or why he’d bother.
“Yeah.” His eyes drifted to the stairs. “Is anyone else around?”
“No. No. Um, Lucky’s the only one renting a room right now, and he left for Alabama.” She rubbed her shoulder. “Something about Luke. I wasn’t really listening.” She cleared her throat. “Did you want some coffee or something?”
“No.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and she realized that this is where it would end. Neither of them knowing what to say. Maybe there was nothing left. Maybe she’d finally ruined everything.
16
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
So many signs, so many signs
You didn’t even see the signs
Lucky was gone. Courtney was at her apartment as far as he knew. Carly and Sonny tucked away in their penthouse, Alcazar in the hospital, and Zander having taken off — not that Jason gave a damn.
It just meant there was no one to interrupt. And now he realized he’d never thought that would happen. That there would always be a reason to avoid this.
Did he start with an apology? Would that make her happy?
He opened his mouth, because he was sorry of course. The lie hadn’t been what he’d wanted.
But instead he asked something else.
“Did you mean it?”
Her lips parted, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she squinted. “What?”
“You said I ruined everything. Did you mean it?”
17
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
You’re not my homeland anymore
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, all of the energy draining from her with one question — did she mean it?
She dragged out a chair, sat down, and put her head in her hands, dragging them through her hair. “No,” she said softly, staring at the wood grain. “No, but maybe I ruined it.”
She heard the scrape of the chair against the floor, and in her field of vision, she could see the blue shirt he wore, the warm tone to his skin as he folded his arms on the table. But she couldn’t look up.
“I don’t understand.”
The smile that curved her lips now wasn’t a happy one, and she finally looked up, found his eyes. “Sure you do. You were here this summer. Last year. How many ways did I ruin it?”
He winced, looked away. “We don’t have to talk about that—”
“Yeah, I think we do.” She straightened, but reached for the napkin dispenser. She needed something to do with her fingers, something to concentrate on. “I was angry when I left. And now I’m feeling like I don’t have the right to be angry. That I should forgive you because it’s what you do for me. You always forgive me. And I never deserve it—”
“You get to be angry—” he started.
“Really? You don’t feel even the least bit furious with me for never giving you the benefit of the doubt?” Elizabeth asked, and she saw the way he dropped his eyes, looked away. “I hurt you, Jason. You made that clear to me in a thousand ways, and I still kept pushing. And I’m surprised because you didn’t trust me enough to tell the truth about Sonny? You probably thought I’d tell Zander or something—”
“I never—that’s not why I didn’t tell you—”
“I don’t need to know why anymore. I don’t. I just need—” She sighed, looked away. “I need to turn back time,” she murmured. “But that’s not on the table. So what I need is for you to admit it. I hurt you, and I ruined things long before the other night. I need you to tell me the truth.”
18
So what am I defending now?
You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
There was no easy solution to any of this, Jason realized. An apology wouldn’t work. Not from him, or from her. And they wouldn’t be able to talk around the problem they had a month earlier, when he’d skirted their past knowing he was about to launch a huge lie that she’d be angry about.
“Last year,” Jason began, then paused, because he didn’t even know what to say. “I was angry. And hurt. When I left. After the park.” She closed her eyes, her fingers clenching into fists on the table. “But after I was gone, I could look back and understand it better. Distance helped. I understand what happened then. It was Lucky. Robin and I stayed together too long, too.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t know how to do it. To—let go of a dream. And I didn’t realize that you could be present every day in a relationship, and not realize you’d stopped loving someone. I didn’t know how wrong it all was until you were there.” She swiped at her cheek, looked away. “I didn’t know you could love two people at once. I always thought people were lying about that kind of thing.”
His chest tightened as her words settled in. “Elizabeth—”
“But this year. This year, I screwed up. I screwed up so bad. And I keep rewinding it like a movie in my head, and I’m screaming at myself to stop it. And I can’t ever fix it.”
Jason really didn’t want to talk about any of it. He just wanted to say he was sorry, find a way to make her smile, and maybe she’d go on a ride— but if they didn’t talk about it, it would come back to haunt them. Just like Lucky still lingered.
“Yeah, it hurt,” he said finally, and she looked at him. “I didn’t know where I stood with you. At any point. With Lucky, I could understand it. But Zander? No, I don’t understand it. I don’t think I ever will.”
19
I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door
She’d known that, of course. She’d known it since that terrible day in her studio, when she’d been angry at herself, and pulled open the door, and her world had crumbled—
And everything she’d tried to do to fix it had been built on a broken foundation.
“I—I wish I could give you an answer that would fix it,” Elizabeth said finally. She continued to shred the napkin. “I wish I could say it was a mistake, and leave it at that, but I just…I don’t know. It started with the blackout. I, um, was upset. And scared, and he was there, and I don’t think I thought that would ever happen. And it did. And I can’t explain it. That feels like a copout, I know, but I just—” She exhaled on a shaky breath. “I never wanted you to know. So the fact that you did. And you saw it, and I feel dirty and disgusting—”
“Hey.” Jason reached across the table, laid one hand over both of hers, stilling the napkin ripping. Her eyes flew to his. “You made a mistake. You regret it. That’s enough for me.”
“But I hurt you—”
“I hurt you more—”
“It’s not a contest,” he said gently, and her cheeks flooded, the tears sliding down leaving trails of cool air against her skin. “You hurt me, okay. You’re sorry, aren’t you?”
20
So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you
She was crying, and he’d never wanted that. Never wanted her to feel low or ashamed of what she’d done. He reached across the table with his other hand, taking her fists in his, gently uncurling them.
“I’ve made mistakes, too,” he reminded her, and she sighed, looked away. “Robin and Carly. You know about that. You were friends with Emily when that was going on.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I moved Carly into the cottage,” Jason reminded her, and Elizabeth nodded. “I knew Robin and Carly hated each other. And I knew Carly had feelings for me. I just wanted Michael. I was selfish, and I didn’t think about how much I hurt Robin. Until it was too late to fix it. I’d rather have cut my arm off than hurt her like that, and I did it anyway.”
Her smile was thin. “It’s like you’re standing outside of yourself, you know? And it makes sense to you in the minute, but then five minutes later, you’re screaming because it’s all wrong. ”
“I can’t even claim that I knew five minutes later. It’s taken years for me to see what I did. I was so angry with Robin when she told AJ about Michael. But now I see I asked her to live a lie. Michael was conceived when Robin and I were together. People thought I’d cheated on her. And she handled that. She forgave me. And she stood by me. I didn’t deserve it.”
“She loved you,” Elizabeth murmured. “And she knew you loved Michael.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you about Sonny,” Jason said, and now the apology felt genuine. “It wasn’t a test or a punishment. As awful as both those options are, the truth is worse.”
21
All this time
We always walked a very thin line
You didn’t even hear me out (didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
“It’s okay. Whatever it is,” Elizabeth said, with a quick shake of her head. “I should have let you explain—”
“And maybe I wouldn’t have come up with anything better than what I said the other night. Which wasn’t true. You were right. You were part of this. Alcazar knows you matter to me. That you’re important. He shot at you. But Sonny said no. And I didn’t push him. I didn’t argue.”
“Sonny said no,” Elizabeth echoed, searching his eyes. “So you asked.”
“Yeah. We didn’t have a lot of time to deal with the details. Carly had to know, but she was it. And I had to push on that,” Jason admitted. “After that, Sonny didn’t want to hear about anything else.”
“You made sure Carly knew. That’s good. I’m glad. I’m glad she wasn’t really—that was the right choice.”
“It was?” Jason said, almost skeptically. “I chose Carly over you—”
“Sonny and Carly are married. I can’t believe he ever thought about not telling her. That’s awful. If you’d been faking your death, and chose to tell Carly and not me, well, okay—” She shrugged. “Then we’d have a problem. But if there was only time to have one argument? I’m okay with it being her.”
“Oh.” He sat back, clearly bewildered. “I—I’m still sorry. And Carly. She told me she wishes she’d told you.”
She looked down at his hands again, still holding hers. So that was that, she thought. Lucky and Zander dealt with. The lies about Sonny.
The air was cleared.
Then why did it feel so unfinished?
22
All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
His thumb stroked over her knuckles, back and forth. Had they broken open all the wounds? Was it all done and over with? Why didn’t he feel like they were on the other side of all this?
“The docks,” he found himself saying. Their eyes met again. “Courtney.”
She started to shake her head. “No—”
“Sonny sent me to look after her. I don’t know why, and I told him it had to be done. I don’t have time to worry about his sister. I don’t even like her. As a person,” he added, and she smiled hesitantly. “That night, I was angry. I wanted to go home to see you. But I knew I’d have to lie. And I didn’t want to. I tried not to be alone with you because you’d want to take care of me—” Jason winced. That sounded so arrogant. “I mean—”
“I absolutely wanted to take care of you. I thought your best friend was dead. You were grieving, and for all I knew, out searching for his killer. And I wondered if you got hurt, would anyone even remember to tell me?”
He closed his eyes, grimaced. Damn it. “Elizabeth—”
“And it hurt that you were avoiding me. And I couldn’t understand why because I’d thought, God, I thought we’d already settled all of this. But you weren’t there. And you were always with her, and I think I knew deep down that I hadn’t really apologized or fixed what I broke—”
“Elizabeth—”
“And I got jealous, and frustrated. And I didn’t know how to tell you about any of that because how selfish would it have been to explode all of that insanity on you when you were grieving?”
“Damn it,” he muttered. He drew back one of his hands to scrub it down one cheek, then took her hand again. “I’m sorry. I really am—”
“I’m sorry, too. Because I ran. We could have had this fight days ago. And maybe I’d be able to sleep.” Her smile was hesitant. “I haven’t really slept in weeks. I don’t know about you.”
“No. No, I haven’t either.” Longer than a few weeks, he thought, though there were a few nights when she’d first stayed at the penthouse, when he’d been able to catch a few hours because she was safe down the hall.
“So I’m sorry, and you’re sorry,” Elizabeth said slowly, “why does it feel like this doesn’t fix anything? Like there’s still this weight on my shoulders I can’t lift.” Tears shimmered again, clinging to her lashes. “Is it too late?”
23
All this time (so many signs)
I never learned to read your mind (so many signs)
I couldn’t turn things around (I couldn’t turn things around)
What would she do if he said yes? If he thought maybe it was best they stayed friends, or worse, if he said it was just too much? Could she change his mind? Did she even have the right to?
“A few days ago, when you’d left,” Jason said, his words halting, painful, “I thought maybe it was for the best. For the last few months, it’s just been—”
“One terrible thing after another,” she muttered. “I know. I know. I started it. I know I did. It would all be different if I could have just—” Done what? “Thrown your phone into the damn harbor.”
Instead of looking annoyed at that, his smile was genuine, and quick, and it lightened that weight just a little. “Yeah, maybe I could have accidentally ran over it,” he admitted. “Or told Carly and Sonny to fix their own problems.”
Remembering it had been Carly’s call that day of the blackout—that he’d left for her — Elizabeth nodded. How different everything could have been, she thought.
“So we’re both sorry,” she said again, “but being sorry is only part of it. We have to forgive each other. I, um, I don’t know that I have as much to forgive. I mean, I was angry about Sonny, but you explained your side, and I’m okay with that. But can you forgive me?”
24
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (you never gave a warning sign)
She was right. Offering apologies wouldn’t do any good if they weren’t accepted. And could he honestly accept her apology this time and let go of the swirl of hurt that he’d let fester so deep he hadn’t realized it until she’d pried it out of him. Had that been part of his anxiety and uncertainty in approaching her? Had he avoided her thinking she might have truly decided to give up on him? Or that he’d have to admit how hurt he’d been—
“That night in your studio, when we kissed,” Jason said, and her cheeks pinked up. “If I had come over the next day and kissed you again, would that have changed things?”
She tipped her head. “What?”
“Or after the crypt. When you came home, and I was showing you how to swing the bat, I wanted to kiss you that day. Every day,” Jason continued. “I should have told you how scared I was when you were missing. When I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you. If I’d told you I loved you, would that have changed things?”
She stared at him, her lips parted, her hands going slack in his, and he thought maybe he’d gone too far.
“What if I told you,” Elizabeth said, “that day you bought me the baseball bat, I wanted you to kiss me. And that I wasn’t trying very hard to learn because I liked your arms around me. Would you have kissed me?” Her voice faltered. “Would you have stayed?” She smiled tremulously. “What if I’d told you I loved you? I don’t know if you can believe that—”
Jason shoved back his chair, and she was startled into silence. He never let go of their hands, using them to drag her up from the chair and into his arms, kissing her the way he had that night in the studio, all the pent up frustration and want and desire spilling out—
Elizabeth dropped her hands to dive into his hair, her nails scraping against the hairline at his neck. He yanked her hard against him, and she gasped, sucking in air, his mouth trailing down her jawline.
Their foreheads rested against each other, their mingled breath heavy, warm against their skin. “If you’d told me that,” Jason murmured, “I’d never have left.”
“Then I’ll say it every day. I should have said it every day since you came back.” Her fingers curled into the collar as his shirt, her eyes searching his. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”
“We won’t. We won’t,” he promised her, dropping his head into the crook of her shoulder, the feel of her in his arms. All the words they’d left unsaid — how close they’d come to just walking away. “We won’t,” Jason promised against, cupping her face, brushing his lips against hers once, twice, softly, but she used her grip on his shirt to bring him in again for another long, lazy kiss.
“Can we go home?” she asked, tremulously.
“Yeah,” he managed, his voice almost inaudible, reverent as he kissed her again—he couldn’t stop himself, sliding the tips of fingers through her hair, down her soft skin. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
You never gave a warning sign
Stories alternate M/W/F
Rewrites Jason's return in 2017 and the Cassadine/WSB memory experiments.
Rewrites New Year's Eve Bomb in 2000. What if Jason stays in Port Charles?
