Chapter Seven

This entry is part 7 of 16 in the Yesterdays

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Elizabeth sighed and tugged at the bodice of the black dress. She met her friend Emily Cassadine’s brown eyes in the mirror in her bedroom. “I don’t feel right, Emily. My little girl is lying in a hospital bed and I’m getting dressed up to go out with someone.”

“I think it’s about time you did something for yourself,” Emily told her. She pushed Elizabeth’s hands away and straightened the thin black straps holding the ankle length silk dress up. “I’ve never seen this dress before. Where’d you get it?”

“In Paris,” Elizabeth murmured. “The last trip before Port Charles.” She turned to the side. “The cut’s simple–I don’t think it’s too far out of style but it’s really the newest thing I own.”

“You’re fine, you look great.” Emily sighed. “Honey, I’m not asking you to fall in love with Ric. But it’ll be good for you to start moving on. You’ve been divorced for four years.”

“Three years and nine months,” Elizabeth corrected automatically. “It’s September. Four years in December.”

“Okay, that’s what I’m talking about,” Emily replied. “I know you guys were in love, but you need to let go. To get out, meet new people.”


“Don’t argue.” Emily checked her watch. “Okay, we’d better get downstairs. Ric will be here any minute.”

Jason frowned when he pulled up Elizabeth’s house and saw two unfamiliar cars–one parked in the driveway and the other right in front of him–blocking where he’d parked before.

He got out of the car and was half way up the walk before he noticed the man in a dark suit ringing the doorbell. He narrowed his eyes.

“Who are you?” he called out.

The man turned to look at him. He was dressed in a tuxedo with dark hair, tanned skin and dark eyes–pretty much the complete opposite of Jason.

“Richard Lansing,” he said, extending his hand as Jason walked up the front stairs and stood on the porch. “Who are you?”

“Jason Morgan,” Jason remarked shortly.

“Morgan,” Richard repeated. “Are you Elizabeth’s brother?”

“I’m her husband,” Jason said immediately. “Who are you?”

Richard stepped back, confused. “Her husband?” he repeated. “I didn’t know she was married.”

Jason stepped closer to him. “Well now you do.”

“Okay, so why is your ex-husband standing on the porch with Ric?” Emily asked pushing one of the sheer curtains aside.

Elizabeth pulled the front door open just in time to hear Ric say, “I’m sure Emily would have mentioned if Elizabeth was married.”

“I’m not married,” Elizabeth said, furiously. She pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch, glaring at Jason. “I’m divorced and this is my ex-husband.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Jason demanded.

“I’m going out. Do you have a problem?” Elizabeth asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Jason looked her up and down before clenching his jaw. “You’re going out on date in a dress bought you?”

“Liz, Ric, you should get going before the party starts,” Emily said, stepping out behind her friend. “I’ll make sure Jason finds his way back to his car.”

Elizabeth shot Jason one more nasty look before taking Ric’s offered hand and walking down the walk to the car.

Jason glared at the red convertible until it disappeared around a corner. He turned to see the taller brunette looking at him oddly. “What?” he demanded.

“Emily Cassadine,” she said, extending her hand. “My husband represented Elizabeth in the divorce.”

“I know,” Jason said, not taking her hand. “Who the hell was that and what was he doing with my wife?”

“Your ex-wife,” Emily corrected. “And he was taking her on a date.” She crossed her arms. “How’s your new wife?” she asked pointedly.

“She divorced me,” Jason muttered looking away. “Said I was still too in love with my first wife.”

“Yeah, I can see where she might get that idea.” Emily stepped towards him. “Listen to me–she’s not your wife anymore and I swear if you hurt her–”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Jason said, incredulously. “I never wanted to hurt her.”

“We do a lot of things we never wanted to.” Emily tipped her head towards his rented Porsche. “Why don’t you go now?”

Jason glared at her. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Settling for glaring at Elizabeth’s friend once more, Jason stalked down the steps and went to his car.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

“I’m sorry about Jason,” Elizabeth apologized as they drove towards the Port Charles Hotel where the charity ball was being held.

“It’s fine,” Ric replied. He shrugged. “He seemed like he hasn’t accepted the divorce. How long has it been?”

“Four years,” Elizabeth replied. “And he’s remarried.”

“Oh. He didn’t seem like it.”

Elizabeth folded her arms. “Can we not talk about him?” She forced a smile. “Tell me about yourself.”

Five hours later, Elizabeth refused Ric’s offer to walk her to her door. He was disappointed–since he was in the middle of another story about his days at Harvard.

When she’d told him to tell her about himself, she hadn’t meant for him to take it quite so literally. From the moment she’d said it until about five seconds ago, he hadn’t shut up.

She’d never been quite so bored in her whole life and truth be told, she’d stopped listening to him about halfway through the second course. Her mind had wandered to more important things–such as Olivia’s recovery or why Jason had been so adamant about being her husband.

She jerked her black shawl around her shoulders a little more tightly to brace against the chilly winds of late September. She reached into the tiny matching black purse and started looking for her house keys.

“Paris. September 1998.”

His voice startled her and she jumped away from the door. “Where the hell are you?” she demanded.

She heard some rustling from the far end of the porch and she heard the scrape of one of the porch chairs. “Paris,” he repeated, bleeding out from the shadows. She was stunned to see him stumbling just a bit–his blonde hair tousled, his eyes bloodshot–and a bottle of Jack Daniels vodka in his hand.

“Jason, what’s wrong with you?” Elizabeth asked. She set her purse and keys down on one of the tables and moved towards him.

“Our last trip there,” he continued. He leaned against the wall and took another pull from the bottle. “We were invited last minute to an opera and you had sent all of your dresses ahead to Port Charles so we went out an hour before the show and bought that dress.”

She folded her arms. “You remember that?”

“I remember that you didn’t want to spend so much money on the dress but it was cut just right so that you could wear it during the pregnancy and afterwards.” He shook his head. “You were always worried about looking fat.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Why are you drinking? You never…not like this.”

“I guess I’m just trying to get used to the idea of seeing my wife wear that dress on a date with another man.” He finished the bottle and tossed it aside. It landed in the grass with a soft thud and he stumbled back to his former seat where Elizabeth was stunned to see six empty beer cans and another full bottle of Jack Daniels. He reached for it and twisted the cap off. He tossed it aside and took a long pull.

Alarmed, Elizabeth reached for it and yanked the bottle from his grasp. “Jason, we’re divorced. We have been for years.”

“Was this your first date?” he asked, falling into the porch chair. Elizabeth sighed and crouched down to cap the alcohol bottle and put into the brown paper bag she found underneath the table.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said quietly. She shoved the empty cans into the bag to and stood up. She set the bag on the table. “Why?”

“Are you gonna see him again?”

She sighed and rubbed her head. “I haven’t decided. Jason, what in the hell is going on?”

He shifted to one side and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet and opened it. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Elizabeth asked, patiently. She sat across from him and sighed.

“She looks like you.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“Elise. She knew it, I didn’t want to think about it, but she looks like you.” He held up the wallet but it was too dark to see.

“Jason, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight–”

“It’s your fault, you know that?”

She pursed her lips. “What’s my fault?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. She sat back and crossed her legs.

“She divorced me,” Jason reported. He leaned forward and pulled the bottle out and had it uncapped again before she could stop him. He took a long pull and wiped his mouth afterwards. “And the real kicker? She had the papers drawn up six months after we got married.”

Elizabeth’s mouth was dry. “Jason–”

“Said she was tired of me not loving her–of wishing she was you. She didn’t want to settle.” He chuckled bitterly. “Until she said that, I didn’t really see it–didn’t want to see it. But she was right. And you know what? It’s not fair that you get to move on–date someone who doesn’t look like me when the only woman I’ve even been remotely attracted to since the day we met could be your sister!”

Elizabeth stood abruptly. “Jason, that’s enough–”

“You’re right. It is enough.” He stood and set the bottle down with a loud CLACK on the glass topped table. “You pushed me away when we were married. You would never let me get up in the middle of the night when Olivia was crying. You wouldn’t let me change her–you wouldn’t let me kiss you if she was in the room.” He glared at her. “Were you protecting me then too?”

Stung, Elizabeth blinked, her vision blurry with tears. “My mother–she said that, ah, when she came to see me in the hospital she told me that I had to…I had to do a lot of that myself…that my father had never liked to check on me when they were home and he’d been angry when she’d suggested it and I just…I thought…”

He looked away. “You can’t blame everything on your mother.”

“I was twenty-two years old!” she cried. “What the hell did I know about raising a kid?”

“You knew enough that you didn’t want to raise Olivia like you were raised! Why the hell would you take advice from your mother?”

“You were never here!” she shot back. She wiped her tears away roughly and glared at him. “Olivia barely knew who you were half the time.”

He paled and stepped back. He tripped a little bit and went sprawling into the chair. “That was low. Even for you.”

“It’s the truth,” she spat. She saw the bag of empty beer cans out of the corner of her eye. “We’re not doing this anymore. It’s over. We’ve both moved on–”

“I haven’t moved on!” he said, lunging out of his seat. He grabbed her by the forearms roughly and pulled her towards him.

“Jason,” Elizabeth began carefully, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” he retorted. “Maybe you’ve moved on to pretty boy but I haven’t! I married a woman who looks just like you–who acts a little like you sometimes. I couldn’t have you but I damn sure tried!”

“Jason,” she said softly trying to pull out of his tight hold. “Let me go.”

He shook his head. “No.”


Her protest was cut off when his mouth covered hers. Surprised, Elizabeth’s struggle ceased and her eyes fluttered shut at the familiar touch.

The kiss itself was almost bruising in its intensity but she almost forgot to fight to pull away until he thrust his tongue past her lips and she tasted the alcohol. She jerked away and nearly fell but he tightened his grip on her arms to keep her upright.

He stared at her in surprise–as if he’d forgotten he was even here. Jason licked his lips and tasted her there. He saw her swollen lips, her tear-stained cheeks.

“Jesus.” He let her go abruptly and turned away, driving his fingers through his hair. “Jesus, I-I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you should drive home,” she said softly. She took his arm and pulled him gently towards the house. “I’ll put you in the guest room.”

“Elizabeth, I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He allowed her to lead him to the door and then into the house. “I didn’t–I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She propelled him towards the stairs and they stumbled together as they climbed it.

She even helped him take off his shirt and pants until he was just in boxers. He let her do this without a word and not long after he was in the bed, he was asleep.

She changed into a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top and went downstairs to clean up the porch. His wallet was on the ground and she picked it up. Unable to contain her curiosity, Elizabeth flipped it open to the pictures.

He had a picture of Elizabeth alongside Elise and she rocked back on her heels, stunned.

He really had married someone who looked like her.


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