Written in 58 minutes.

It was the best day he’d had since waking up in the hospital, and it probably wasn’t even noon yet.

Jason stretched out on his back, one arm behind his head, still trying to catch his breath, and all at the same time, wondering how he could do it all over again. People should wake up every morning like this, he thought. With a gorgeous woman who kissed them like they were starving, and then dragged them into the bedroom—

Jason turned his head, his cheek flat against the pillow to find Elizabeth laying on her back, too, her hair a tangled cloud around her head, a fist pressed against her heart, and her chest rising and falling rapidly which really was a great visual, he thought, watching it—

“That was so stupid,” Elizabeth managed, her voice a bit thick. “Oh my God, so unbelievably stupid.”

Jason frowned, wondering if he’d missed something. She sounded upset. Or maybe mad. What had he done wrong? Maybe it had been too fast, he thought. He didn’t have any personal experience—none that he could remember, he reminded himself. But he had knowledge in his head. His memories were gone, but he knew how bodies worked. And what parts went where—

And he thought he knew what sounds people made when they were happy, and she’d made all the right ones—

Elizabeth slid out of the bed, darted towards a chair where she snatched up a pink robe and whipped it around herself, tucking away all the bits he’d been enjoying. Jason sighed and sat up, reaching for the top sheet that had been kicked towards the end of the bed. He didn’t care about nudity, but judging from the way she was holding the robe closed, she probably didn’t want to have whatever conversation came next while he was naked.

He really didn’t understand people.

“What did I do wrong?” Jason asked. He hitched the sheet around his wast and slid out of bed, not wanting to be sitting when she was on her feet. “Did I not do it right?”

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a bright cherry red, which traveled down to the small bit of chest still visible where her robe opened. “What?”

“I don’t remember having sex,” Jason said, patiently. If it was just as simple as missing a step or maybe he needed to do something extra to make sure she’d finished, too, well, he was willing to learn. “But I remember what I’ve read. I guess I had a lot of sex education. Or whatever college you go to before medical school.”

Her mouth parted slightly. “What?”

He frowned. He thought he’d asked the right question, but apparently not. “You’re not happy. So I missed a step. Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it.”

“I—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, and then, the words sounding like she was being strangled, “You didn’t miss any steps.”

“Oh. So then why aren’t you happy?”

Elizabeth let out a small moan, then collapsed onto the chair behind her. “I think I’m having a stroke. Okay. Okay. I’m an adult.” She cleared her throat, looked at him. “Listen, um, I was, uh, happy. There.” She gestured at the bed, with the pillows still askew, the comforter half hanging off the foot of the bed, and sheets mussed. “That—literally—that was fine. Great. Good.”

He felt vaguely insulted and didn’t really understand why. “Just great?”

“This is the Twilight Zone.” She dragged one hand through her hair. “The best sex I’d had in almost a year. That part is not the problem.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jason kicked the sheet away, started to look around for his briefs, figuring they’d be more comfortable than the bulky sheet wrapped around his waist. “You said it was stupid.”

“Sleeping together was stupid,” Elizabeth bit out. “It complicates everything! Okay? We had an agreement. You’d sleep on the sofa, and then I’d get you out of this conservatorship—”

“We had a deal,” Jason agreed. “And we’d see what happened. Also, you kissed me. And I asked if you were sure.” He frowned, remembering that she hadn’t really said yes to that question, but then he brushed it aside. “Why can’t it be that simple? I wanted you, you wanted me. So we had each other.”

“God, I must be out of my mind, because that made sense and it’s because I haven’t had sex since July, isn’t it? That has to be it. My brain is warped.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Okay. Yes, in some sense, you’re right. It was that simple. We acted on our basic urges. It’s just—” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It can’t happen again, that’s all. I think it just complicates everything—”

“I don’t understand. We said we’d see what happened,” Jason repeated. “This happened. Why can’t this just be part of the deal now. You had a good time. So did I—”

“Because—” Elizabeth closed her mouth. “I don’t know how to put it into words. For you, Jason, that was fun. And uncomplicated. Because while you know the legal label that I have to you, it’s not a real one. I’m just Elizabeth to you.”

He exhaled. “And it’s still real to you.” This he understood. The word wife didn’t mean anything to him, not real. Only that it was the relationship she  had to him. But to her— “So what, you were sleeping with your husband? Like I was still the same—”

“You’re not the same.” She rubbed her lips with the tip of her index finger. “You’re not. The flashes are there, of course they are. But you’re definitely blunter than you were before. I can’t imagine you asking me if you did it right in that tone. And there’s other things — I mean—” Elizabeth paused, clearly searching for the right words. “No. I wasn’t having sex with my husband. And maybe that’s messing me up to. Because you’re him. Physically. That’s his body. But it’s his mind anymore. And it’s only been three months. It’s like he died, and now it’s been three months—” She shook her head. “This is what I mean. I bring so much baggage, you know. I’m just dragging suitcases of it behind me, and you don’t deserve any of that. You should have uncomplicated sex if that’s what you want. I just can’t give it to you.”

Jason considered all of that, and thought she had a point. It must be a strange thing to look at him, to see someone you knew and loved, and know that they didn’t know you anymore. “So you want me to go have sex with someone else?” he asked warily.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “No. No. But you could. And you should. Go to Jake’s. I promise you you’ll have any girl you—” She looked away and he cocked his head, trying to understand her. “I just—it would be really easy for me to fall in love with you. You. Who you are right now. Because so much of you is already someone I love. But you don’t love me, Jason. And there’s no guarantee you ever will.”

He didn’t have a response to that. He didn’t really understand love — he knew the definition, and he understood it as a concept. But what it felt like, what it was in reality—how did you know?

Elizabeth rose. “I’m going to take a shower. The coffee is probably ready by now.”

—

The air was tense between them when she got out of the shower, so Jason took one of his own and left the apartment as quickly as he could, walking a few blocks towards Luke’s. He could see Elizabeth’s point, sort of. And he’d probably be making everything easier if he did just go pick up someone at Jake’s. He’d lived at the bar for a week, and he’d seen women looking at him. He’d just been trying to keep his head above water then, and not really thinking about of that.

But now he was thinking about that. It was like an entire part of his brain had woken up, but it didn’t want some random blonde making eyes at him from the jukebox at a bar. He wanted Elizabeth with her painted red lips, sad eyes and soft hair. But she didn’t want him. Or more correctly, she didn’t want to want him.

And there was that problem that Jason couldn’t really know if she wanted him or the man she’d been married to. Though he didn’t get the sense from her that she was looking for someone else when they were together. He knew what that was like — having conversations early on with the parents—the way they’d constantly searched his eyes as if somehow they’d be able to find their son in them. Or the way the grandfather had constantly bellowed out about plans Jason had always had before—

No, Jason hadn’t been interested in living any piece of the life he’d had before. Until he’d met Elizabeth, and he’d looked at the photograph she’d given him. He stopped suddenly, standing on a pier by the water, and dug out his wallet. He carried the photo around because it reminded him you could see something real in photos and that meant they were worth the effort to figure them out.

He didn’t need any effort to figure this one out anymore. He knew the lines of Elizabeth’s face now. They were familiar. And he’d looked at Cady a hundred times since that first day. He wanted to remember what it was like to be a father, and if the little time he’d spent with Elizabeth was anything like what it had been to be a husband, well, maybe he’d be okay with that.

Luke’s was still closed for the day — but Jason found Sonny sitting at one of the tables on the floor, going through some paperwork. He glanced up when he heard Jason. “Hey. You’re early. Elizabeth didn’t come with you, did she? She worked too late last night.”

“No. No. It’s just me.” Jason pulled out the chair across from him, nodded at the papers. “Books for the club.”

“Taxes coming up,” Sonny said with a grimace. “I have an accountant, but I double check his work. I don’t trust anyone when it comes to my money.” He set the pencil aside. “Luke told me you were asking about Quartermaines. About making them just a little bit miserable.”

“I don’t like what they did to Elizabeth. So, yeah, I’d like to see them hurt. Alan and Edward,” Jason clarified. “The rest—I don’t have a problem. At least I don’t think so.”

“Well, the best way to get at them is always through ELQ, so I could make some calls. Maybe see if some shares are up for grabs. But it would depend on what you want to happen.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want them to keep getting away with all of this,” he muttered. “Luke said the press was bad. You made it go away. How?”

“I have a few friends in the right places.” Sonny tipped his head. “But shutting them down in court might be worth it on its own. At least for now. And when you have control of your life back, there’s a lot of things we can do. How’s that going?”

“I don’t know yet. Justus is filing something in court.”

“Yeah, I heard about this plan. You and Elizabeth presenting a united front to get the judge to give her power.” Sonny leaned back. “I worry that maybe it’s complicating things for her. She worked hard to get a little bit of normal back in her life. She wasn’t all the way back, but you coming back around, well, I hope when you’re ready for the divorce, you make it quick and painless.”

Jason opened his mouth, then hesitated. “How do you know when you’re ready? I mean, divorce. How would I know?”

Sonny drew his brows together. “I figured when you got this conservator thing handled, Elizabeth would sign the papers. You don’t remember being Jason Quartermaine, so what’s the point?”

“But I like her,” Jason said, stubbornly, with a lick of anger. Why did everyone want to make decisions for him? “Maybe I don’t want a divorce.”

“You like her,” Sonny repeated. “What does that mean? I like my shoes—” He held out a leg. “Real Italian leather—”

“We had sex,” Jason said bluntly, and Sonny stared at him, his foot dropping down to the floor. “Today. I mean I like her. And I wanted to do it again, but she thinks it’s a bad idea. Because I don’t love her. But she doesn’t love me either. Not who I am today. She loves who I was. So we don’t love each other.”

“I can’t say I was expecting the conversation to go this way,” Sonny said slowly. He stroked his chin. “She loves the shadow of you,” he said. “But pieces of you are the same. So she might not love all of who you are yet but she still loves those pieces. That’s more than you can say. So maybe she’s got a point.”

“But people don’t fall in love at the same time. And how can you do that if you don’t try to? If we just ignore each other, then it’ll never happen.” Jason shook his head. “So what? Maybe I’ll love her next week.”

Sonny closed the ledger in front of him, rubbed the back of his neck with a light chuckle. “Oh, man. Don’t ever tell a woman that. Please.”

“Why? It’s true—”

“It sounds like you just want to have sex with her,” Sonny said, and Jason closed his mouth. “And that you’d say whatever you need to so she’ll sleep with you.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.” Jason considered this advice, but he still thought his idea was a good one. “But it’s true. I could fall in love with her by next week. Maybe I love her now, and I don’t know. Is there a list or something I should be looking at? Because how do you know?”

“Well, that’s not easy to answer. Because the truth is, you know it’s love when you feel it.” Sonny lifted on shoulder in a careless half-shrug. “That probably doesn’t help very much, does it?”

“I’ll know it when I feel it,” Jason repeated. “No, it doesn’t help, but if it’s true, then it’ll make sense when it happens. So what am I supposed to do? I told her that we’d see what happened, and then what happened was we had sex. Why isn’t that a good thing?”

“Because sex is easy,” Sonny said bluntly. “It doesn’t take a lot of intelligence to get a woman into bed or even a lot of skill to make it decent—”

“She said it was the best she’d had in a year.”

“I did not need to know that.” Sonny dragged a hand over his eyes. “Okay. Look, bottom line, Jason. She’s just scared of being hurt. She’s spent the last six months at rock bottom. And she’s not in a hurry to go back. Maybe you can understand that.”

“But I made her happy. I could do that again—”

“And she could invest in a vibrator that would do the same task.” Sonny leaned forward. “If you want a chance at something real, at more than just sex, then you gotta make her see tha. But if sex is all you want, well, there’s some bars you can try.”

“She said that, too,” Jason muttered. He considered all of this, and nodded. “Okay. Okay. But maybe we could date. I mean, she says I’m not her husband even though the law says I am. So if I’m not her husband, then we could date, right?”

“I—” Sonny lifted his brows. “Huh. Yeah. That’s actually something that might work. Try that.”

—

Jason thought about it the rest of the day — as the bar opened for customers, and Elizabeth showed up for the closing shift, from six to two. She kept her distance, and he let her do that. Now that he understood a little better what she was thinking, Jason didn’t want to make her feel comfortable. They could wait.

The bar closed at two, but it wasn’t until almost three before the place had emptied and they’d been able to shut it down completely.

“I could drive,” Jason offered as Elizabeth slid the strap of her purse and tugged it over her head to sit crossed on her chest. ”

She stifled a yawn, and tossed him the keys. “Too tired to argue. I don’t know why I decided to work two closing shifts in a row. Remind me to be nicer to myself in the next schedule.” She let Jason steer her out the back door towards the parking lot and her car.

Jason settled her into the passenger side, then got into the driver’s side. “I thought about what you said earlier.” He switched on the engine, but didn’t leave the parking lot.

Elizabeth frowned, turned to look at him. “This morning?”

“Yeah. I don’t just want sex. Not with you. If that’s what you were thinking. I thought back to how I said things, and maybe it sounded like that.”

“It’s okay—”

“No. It’s not. I don’t want to hurt you. So I have to think about what I say. That’s been hard since I woke up,” Jason admitted. “Sometimes I can do it, and then other times, I just say what I’m thinking, and it comes out wrong. Or too blunt. So I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t really at my best either. It’s been a long time since I did anything that impulsive, and I just—” Her smile was faint. “I reacted badly. But I started it, Jason, and I didn’t stop it. So you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Good. That’s fixed. We should date.”

Elizabeth was quiet long enough that he worried she’d fallen asleep. “Date?” she repeated.

“Yes. That’s how people get to know each other, right? You didn’t love me the first day you met me, did you?”

“Well, I was five, so probably not. But no, I didn’t love you on our first date. That came later.” He met her gaze, and saw that she was considering it. “We should date?”

“Yes. We should get to know each other. More. We already know the sex is good, but you need to know me now. And maybe you won’t love me.”

“Maybe you won’t love me,” she said softly. “Is this what you want?”

“Only if you want it. This is separate from the rest of it.” Jason swallowed hard. “It’s separate from the Quartermaines and all of that. I want something that’s not about them or what they’re trying to do.”

“Me, too. Okay. Let’s date, then.” She reached across the space between the seats, touched his cheek. “And we’ll keep it ours. Just for us.”

“Yeah.” Feeling almost as light and as good as he had that morning, Jason nodded. “Just for us.”

+45

Written in 55 minutes. This part is rated R

Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains covering her bedroom window, making it difficult for Elizabeth to just roll over and bury her face in the pillows. Especially when she was rolling towards the right side of the bed — empty as it had been for three months.

Everything about yesterday felt like a tremendous mistake now, she thought. From going into the bar early, staying until closing—and that ridiculous meeting with Justus. She’d agreed to help Jason get out of the mess the Quartermaines had placed him in, and even when he’d tried to back out, she’d insisted.

And now the man wearing her husband’s face was sleeping on the sofa in the next room. He looked like Jason, he sounded like Jason, he was Jason. But he wasn’t her husband.

Elizabeth rolled onto her back, stared at the popcorn-textured ceiling, considering the wreckage of her life. What would have happened if she’d managed to go to New York? To attend a real art program? What would her world look like?

Would she be a mother at twenty-three, and a functional widow and grieving mother by twenty-four? Would Jason have returned to Stanford for medical school and still be the boy she’d known all her life?

Where exactly had her life zigged so badly that it had turned out like this?

“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself now,” Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely audible, drowned out by the street sounds below. “We’re done with that. We have to be.”

She twisted her head, looked at the clock. Just before nine, so a solid six hours of sleep. That wasn’t so bad, she thought. She slid out of bed, with only one thought in her head.

She needed coffee.

Elizabeth gently opened the door, peering through the crack to find that Jason was where she’d left him last night — well, mostly, she thought. He’d stretched out on the sofa, his legs hanging off the end, and his face awkwardly squished into the pillow she’d given him. He had a blanket tossed over him, but it didn’t reach higher than mid-chest which was bare. He wore nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants visible where the blanket came to an end mid-calf.

She bit her lip. If she was really quiet she could put on a pot coffee, sneak into the shower and be fully dressed before Jason even woke up.

She left her feet in just a pair of white socks, hoping it would soften any footsteps as she carefully picked her way past the sofa to the kitchen behind it. Just when she thought she’d made it—she’d just scooped the coffee into the filter—she heard a sound from the sofa.

Damn it, Elizabeth thought, with a wrinkle of her nose. Jason was awake, his top half rising from the sofa first as he sat up, looking around blearily, rubbing his chest. He focused on her, squinting slightly, as if he was trying to understand his surroundings. Then his eyes cleared and he stood.

“Hey. Uh, good morning,” he said, bunching blanket in his hand, then tossing it where he’d found it—over the back of the sofa.

“Good morning,” Elizabeth mumbled, turning back to the coffee. She snatched the carafe from the machine and went to the sink to fill it. “The bathroom is over there and there’ll be coffee soon.”

“Okay.”

She made the mistake of turning to see where he was, jolting when she realized he was in the kitchen now, his short hair mussed from sleep, the expanse of his bare chest only a few feet away—he’d been exercising, Elizabeth thought stupidly. His abdomen was more defined than she’d remembered—

“You okay?”

Elizabeth blinked, then realized the carafe had been overfilled for some time, the water spilling over the edges. Her cheeks heated, and she twisted off the faucet, dumping the extra water. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Not enough sleep.”

She headed back to the coffee pot, but it was on the counter behind Jason and that meant she had to be near him—and all that skin, which wasn’t fair, she thought bitterly. She’d been so damn well up until now, not thinking about that side of her life that had been missing long before the rest of it had been destroyed.

“Um, I have to, um—” Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the carafe handle, wondering if flames were actually visible on her cheeks. Or anywhere else. She was probably beet red, she thought viciously. And it was his fault. “Can you put on a shirt?” she snapped out, nudging him aside to set the carafe on the hot plate.

“What?” Jason blinked, stepping aside. “What?”

“You—” She gestured at him with both hands. “Don’t be stupid. Just look at you! Can you just—” She waved. “Cover up.”

Jason’s eyes widened and he glanced down at his chest, then back at her. “This bothers you?”

“Bothers,” she muttered. “Does it bother me?” Yes. But not the way he meant it. Feeling foolish, no mortified beyond the speaking of it. “Yes. Yes. It bothers me. I prefer people to be dressed. All the way—”

“You do?” His brows lifted, and he looked at her, slowing dragging his gaze from head to toe. Which made her feel violent. And tingly. All over. Bastard.

“What,” she began, gritting the words out through clenched teeth, “is that supposed to mean?”

“That.” He reached out, and slid one finger under the thin strap of her black tank top, one of her oldest shirts. The straps were stretched from overuse, and constantly slid down her shoulder. Jason adjusted the strap so that it rested correctly on her shoulder, but he didn’t remove his finger, leaving it on her skin.

Her eyes met his, and her throat tightened. “That’s not the same thing,” Elizabeth managed.

“When the strap slides like that—” Jason removed his finger, and it immediately fell out of place again. “The whole thing dips down.”

“It—” Elizabeth dropped her gaze now, looking and realizing the curve of her breast was visible. “I—”

“I’m not complaining,” he cut in, his voice low. Almost a bit rough. She licked her lips, raised her eyes to him again. “Are you?”

“That,” she said carefully, “is not the point.”

He was closer now—when had that happened, she thought, almost dizzily. His hand was at her shoulder again, two fingers hooked on the strap of her tank. Brushing against her skin. Everything was brighter and she couldn’t think anymore. It had been so long, she thought, and he was so damn beautiful, and in her kitchen.

“What is the point?” Jason asked, the words barely audible, not much more than a breath escaping his lips. His mouth. She missed that mouth. And it was attached to such a perfect body, though the thought almost felt unfaithful, she thought it with a jolt that nearly broke through the madness.

Nearly.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, his fingers sliding along the length of the strap, almost stroking her shoulder.

He was going to have to stop touching her, Elizabeth decided, and she’d tell him that right now. Any minute now.

Or, she could do something even stupider.

Which was, naturally, the choice she made.

She leapt at him, dragging his mouth down to hers, and before she had a chance to feel embarrassed, he’d dragged her against him, his hands digging into her hips, diving into her mouth like a man deprived too long of water.

“This is a mistake,” she panted when he broke from the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck to her collarbone. Instead of responding to that, Jason lifted then turned them so that she was sitting on the countertop, her legs around his waist as he leaned in, kissing her again. His hands were every all at once, leaving fire and heat in their wake, beneath her tank top—

“Wait, wait—” Her chest heaving, Elizabeth found the energy to push him back, their labored breathing the only sound in the room for a long moment as they stared each other, stunned.

The moment had come out of nowhere, she thought, and it was such a stupid idea to let it continue. Not to stop it in its tracks. There was too much at stake, too much history, too much that Jason was dealing with, that she was dealing with—it would be an absolute mistake to do this right now. The worst decision.

But she’d been trying to do the right thing for months. For years. As she’d sat quietly, hoping that this time his family would accept her. Leave her alone. She’d never pushed, never argued. Never demanded respect. She’d stayed away when they’d made her. She’d gone to court instead of going to straight to him after the accident.

At every step Elizabeth had done the right thing, and she’d ended up alone. Miserable.

Jason licked his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” she asked before he’d even finished his words. “Sorry? Would you take it back?”

“No.” Jason shook his head slowly. “No. I’m not sorry. And you kissed me.”

“I did.” And maybe later, common sense would settle in, but not right now. Elizabeth slid to the edge of the counter, curled her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her again, losing herself in something that felt good for the first time in a long time.

This time when his fingers slid under the tank, she let his hands finish the journey, dragging it over her head and tossing it somewhere, their bare skin pressed against each other. Jason lifted her from the counter, almost effortlessly holding her against him, her legs locked around his waist.

“Bedroom,” she managed, scraping her nails against the hair at the nape of his neck, nipping at his earlobe. “Now—”

They stumbled towards the bedroom on the other side of the small apartment, stumbling first into the fridge, then the sofa before finally crashing through the door. Jason dropped her on the bed, and she bounced lightly for just a second, crawling backwards so he could come on top of her, their hands grabbing for his sweatpants, her shorts—

“Wait, wait, wait—” Elizabeth’s hand wildly flung around, looking for the nightstand. “Wait—” She dug through it, wincing. “Check the other side.”

Jason rolled away for a moment, yanking open the drawer, finding the foil packets she’d been looking for. He ripped one open with the corner of his mouth, then discarded the package, hesitating for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Elizabeth admitted, “but that’s not going to stop me. You?”

“Not a chance in hell.” Jason kissed her again, and she stopped thinking altogether.

+44

Written in 66 minutes.

Elizabeth felt a thousand years older by the time she returned to the table where Justus was sitting, a few documents strewn around him. Luke was scowling off to the side, and Jason trailed behind her.

“I’m sorry for running out like that,” she said, standing stiffly in front of the table, her arms crossed. “I don’t want this to be about me. It’s not. What happened — it’s over. It was almost six months ago.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t realize how much the press had bothered you.” Justus rose to his feet, buttoned his suit jacket. “I just thought because you’d been fighting so hard in family court, you’d want to take the most efficient way to ending this—”

“If I’d wanted an efficient end to any of this, I would have taken their first offer and ran,” Elizabeth said. “Family court records are sealed. And so are the records in probate court. The press has no idea any of this is happening, and that’s the way I want to keep it.”

Justus flicked his eyes to Jason, then back to Elizabeth. “All right. Then let’s talk about the other options. We’ll need to focus on the judge then. Getting him to see your point of view. Forgive me if I say you have a sympathetic story. I’d like permission to play that up—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “You mean talk about Cady.”

“Yes. And the injuries you suffered. The fact that Jason’s accident was only, what, six weeks later? It’ll go a long way to making you into the victim. And then the judge will hopefully see that Jason is perfectly capable of making his own decisions, which include staying or ending his own marriage.”

“All right.” Elizabeth pulled a chair out, then sat down, perching at the edge of the chair. Jason sat as well, this time taking the seat next to her. “You’ll file the injunction then.”

“Yes. If you’re adamant about not using public opinion,” Justus said, “then we need to make sure the judge takes this seriously. Jason’s working, holding down a job and I’d like an affidavit from Luke as to his ability to do so.”

“Yeah, sure,” Luke said with a shrug. “Kid does just fine.”

“And the two of you need to show a united front,” Justus continued, looking between Jason and Elizabeth. “The whole point of stopping the divorce and making the judge think twice about denying my motion is if the two of you are serious about making the marriage work.”

“I—” Elizabeth clenched her hands in her lap. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Jason should probably move back into the apartment,” Justus said.

“No,” Jason said before Elizabeth could, and she blinked at him. “No. That’s not an option. Why can’t we just tell the judge we’re taking our time to figure out what we want to do—”

“We could do that. But ultimately, the goal is to get our foot in the door in probate court. If I can get your marriage sanctioned by the court, then Elizabeth can file as an interested party in probate.” Justus paused. “And I can make an argument that she, not Alan, should be conservator of the person.”

“I don’t want to be anything—the whole point is to make this over—” Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Wait. If I were a co-conservator—”

“Then you have the power to request it be dissolved. That’s the back up plan to using public opinion,” Justus said. “Jason?”

“Can’t I just go to the mansion and punch the old man?” Jason muttered, slouched in the chair. “That feels like it would be faster and more satisfying.”

“I honestly think Edward and Alan will back down before it gets that far,” Justus said. “I think letting the rest of the family in on what’s going on will do us a lot of good. I mean, Elizabeth, if you’d brought this to me months ago—”

“Really? You think Lila and Monica can stop this?” Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands. “Tell me, Justus, where were you when Edward froze Jason’s trust fund last May because I didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, and he had to hire a lawyer to get the money moving again. Monica knew that happened. She was in the conference room when Edward finally admitted defeat. She wanted Edward to go to court. She was so sure that freezing Jason out of his money would keep him from staying with me.”

Justus took a deep breath. “All right, then—”

“And Lila. She’s a very sweet woman, you know. But where was she when Edward threw me off the estate two months ago?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “In the foyer, telling me that we should just give Jason a few weeks. It would all be okay if we were patient. And then Edward called security.” She leaned back, one brow arched. “Should I go on, Justus?”

“No,” Justus muttered. “I know the family wasn’t welcoming to you—”

“I’m not going to hold my breath that anyone from the family will be able to talk Edward or Alan down,” Jason said. “So there’s no point in going over this again and again. Elizabeth didn’t tell them about it because she didn’t see the point. And I agree with her. So you need us to look married so that she’s the best choice for a conservator. That’s the bottom line.”

“Yes,” Justus said, wincing. “Elizabeth—”

“How long would that take?” she asked softly. “How long, I mean, would we have to—” She licked her lips.

“I don’t know. It depends on the injunction holding. I’ll file that, and hope it gets put on the calendar within a week or so. If the judge doesn’t deny it, if he dismisses the divorce petition, then I can file in probate. This is the best plan. Outside of calling the papers.”

“Then okay. If Jason is okay with it, we’ll do it this way. Um, the apartment—” Her chest felt tight. “There’s a second—there’s another room. We could—”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Jason said, and she closed her eyes. “That’s good enough for me. We’re not touching her room until you’re ready.”

Elizabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Is there anything else?” Jason wanted to know.

“No, I’ll get started on the paperwork, and I’ll be in touch.” Justus packed the paperwork into his briefcase.

“I’ll walk you to the door. Make sure you get out,” Luke said, following Justus.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, staring down at her hands. “For…for saying that. About the room. But maybe—”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept under the docks,” Jason said, standing up. “The sofa can’t be any worse.” He held out his hand.

But she couldn’t take it. She didn’t want to touch him, to look at him. It was too much. It was always too much, and she was exhausted. “I need to wash my face before my shift starts. We’ll…talk about the specifics later.”

Jason watched her disappear towards the bathroom as Luke rejoined them. “The press,” he asked, looking at the bar owner. “It was worse than she probably made it out to be, wasn’t it?”

“Well, I don’t know what she told you, but, yeah, it was bad. Sonny took care of it. He made a few calls to WKPC, made sure they knew where their bread was buttered. And the papers — well, you start threatening defamation and libel lawsuits, they start shutting up.” Luke was grim. “And you punched a reporter.”

“Good,” Jason said flatly. “That’s the first thing I’ve heard about myself that makes sense.”

“Your first arrest. We were very proud of you,” Luke said, almost fondly. He headed for the bar. “Until then, to be honest, couldn’t really understand why Lizzie put up with you. But the human heart is a mystery. And your family was making your life miserable, too.” He poured himself a shot of whiskey. “But you stuck, so I guess there’s something to it. Would have been easier for both of you to toss in the towel, but what are you going do? Two stupid kids.” He tossed back the whiskey. “What they’re still doing to you? It’s a goddamn crime, and they’re gonna get off light because she doesn’t have the heart to roast them in the media.”

“There’s gotta be another way to make this go faster,” Jason said. He hesitated. “You said Sonny made calls. That he has some power. I’ve heard rumors.”

Luke swirled the whiskey in his glass, cocked his head. “Ah, you looking for the kind of revenge that doesn’t come from the courts?”

“I wouldn’t mind making them miserable, so yeah. Maybe. This court stuff — I get why it’s necessary, but I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me who runs my life. I do.”

“That piece of paper is gonna make it easier for other people to accept it, so you might as well get it. But, yeah, the old man and your parents, it might be time for them to get a little taste of some justice.”

—

They worked the happy hour shift together, but Jason didn’t say anything to Elizabeth more than trading orders back and forth. She’d looked tired even before the meeting with Justus, and he wasn’t about to make her feel even worse.

For the last few months, all Jason had really thought about was himself. Which was fair, he told himself. He hadn’t had anything else to worry about. Or maybe he hadn’t let himself think about anything or anyone deeply enough to matter. He’d lived in that house with all the people who called themselves his family, and he had liked some of them.

But none of them had ever really felt like his or people that he would have sought out if they were standing in front of him, claiming to already belong to him. Or that he belonged to them. He didn’t want to belong to anyone but himself. He’d left the house, tired of hearing about Jason the person son, the perfect medical student, the perfect brother—it wasn’t who he was, or knew how to be—and it wasn’t even who he wanted to be. He didn’t know what he wanted, only to stop hearing their voices all the damn time. As soon as they’d started talking about sending him away, that he was damaged after all, well, he’d had to get out.

He hadn’t cared that maybe they’d worry. Lila and Emily, who were nice enough. They were worried. And Edward had probably been angry, barking out orders. Probably ordering Ned or Justus to find him, to drag him back home. They’d kept him on the move, kept him from planting down any roots—

Until he’d ended up at Luke’s. Now, over a week later, he had a job that he could do, even if he didn’t really like it much. And Luke was okay. Sonny didn’t seem so bad, when he was around. Mike, the guy in the kitchen, was okay, too.

And there was Elizabeth, who was supposed to be his family, too. Only she’d never tried to push herself into that role. Other than that day in his room, when she’d given him too much to think about, too much to absorb—but she’d only wanted to help him. To give him what she thought he wanted.

And then she’d told him to go away. To leave her alone. Because it hurt too much to be around him. No one had ever said that before. No one had ever really admitted that it was hard to look at him, and Jason could almost understand the family now. What would it be like for someone to wear your son’s face, to sound like him, but to never be him? If they had accepted that he wasn’t the same, if they’d just asked him for space, would it be different?

“I need six Rolling Rocks,” Elizabeth called from the other end of the bar. “And two Bud Lights.”

Jason filled orders, almost mechanically, taking the glasses, placing them under pump, and filling them to the brim the way he’d been shown. One by one, until he’d filled two drink trays and then a waitress had taken them away.

He was troubled because she’d asked him to stay away, and he’d meant to listen until Justus had told him she was the key to getting rid of that stupid piece of paper the Quartermaines held over his head, the paper that meant he’d always have to live and work at Luke’s because he was the only person in the whole damn city who wouldn’t shove Jason out on the street. He didn’t want Elizabeth to be the key to anything, he thought, because she didn’t want that either.

And now she was in the middle of it again, just the way she’d never wanted to be, and he thought that it wasn’t fair. Maybe they should still find another way to do this. Justus had to have other plans, didn’t he?

He decided he needed to tell Elizabeth that he didn’t want her help anymore, not when it made her so sad and it always seemed to make her think of losing her daughter. Their daughter, he corrected himself, wiping down the bar for the night, watching as one of the bouncers dragged the last drunk to the door and put him in one of taxi cabs.

She’d stayed past the end of her scheduled shift, until the bar had closed, and looked dead on her feet. Elizabeth reached under the bar to retrieve her purse, stifling a yawn, then looked at him, her eyes heavy. “Do you want to get your things later or now?”

“I was thinking maybe not at all,” Jason said, the words coming out in a rush that he hadn’t planned, and she frowned at him. “I was thinking it was really selfish of me to agree. To even ask you.”

“I’m too tired for this,” Elizabeth said, dragging one hand through hair. “You didn’t ask me.”

“I did—”

“Justus asked me. And I said yes. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.” She swung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. “So you can either come home with me or stay here, but I’m too tired to keep doing this.”

Jason muttered under his breath, then followed her, reaching her just as she reached the parking lot. “Elizabeth—”

Underneath one of the lights in the lot, she stopped, whirled around, stabbed a finger in his chest. “No. Don’t argue with me, okay? If Justus thought there was another way to do this, he’d have told you. Believe me. He does a good job of pretending, but he doesn’t really like me either. There’s not a single member of that damn family who would give you options that include me if there was another way. There isn’t. So unless you want Edward and Alan to follow you around and ruin your life for another few decades, you’ll come home with me, and we’ll figure out if you even fit on my damn sofa, okay?” Elizabeth glared at him, her hands at her hips, her cheeks flushed. “I’m helping you and you can’t stop me.”

“I just…don’t want to hurt you,” Jason said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “And it seems like that’s all I’ve done since I came back into your life.”

She sighed, looked away. “You didn’t come back into my life. You don’t remember ever being here before. I can’t blame you for that. And I don’t. You’re not the one hurting me, Jason. You never were.” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him again. “You’re not hurting me. So can we just be done with this conversation now? I’m really tired, and I want to go home.”

+39

Written in 76 minutes. Sorry, the ending was a struggle. I had a plan and then once again, I just kept writing and I’m not sure if maybe this chapter goes off the rails, lol, but that’s the beauty of Flash Fiction. I’ll go where the story wants me to go, and fix it later.

Luke’s was quiet, generally deserted in the morning, but it was easy to lose your sense of time in the place, Jason thought as he descended the stairs from the second story the next morning. There were only a few windows in the place — just enough to be legal, Jason suspected, and they were kept shaded. You couldn’t see in — or out. Once inside, it always felt like night.

This morning, however, the club wasn’t completely empty. Jason could hear Mike Corbin, the kitchen manager in the kitchen, talking with his prep cooks. And behind the bar, a clipboard in her hand, was Elizabeth doing daily inventory.

At his approach, she glanced over then quickly away. “Hey. Um, good morning.”

“Morning.” Jason rested his elbows on the bar, watched her work. He still wasn’t sure of the rules between them and he didn’t like uncertainty. She’d agreed to help last night, but she’d still seemed sad, and he didn’t know if he’d really explained himself well. He didn’t know what he wanted — only that he didn’t like the idea of not talking to her. Not seeing her.

“Did you talk to Justus?” Elizabeth asked, keeping her eyes on the line of bottles, counting the second row. “Um, I’m due back in court next Wednesday. They’re trying to dismiss my objection to the last settlement offer. They’ll probably win,” she added with a mutter. “I had to write it myself, and I’m pretty sure I messed it up.”

“I left a message for him this morning. And he said he’d take over your case—”

“No. No, it’s okay. He’s better off focusing on you.” Elizabeth’s eyes darted in his direction, then away again. “I can take care of myself.”

Jason clenched his jaw, thought about arguing with her, but it was her life. Her mistake to make, he thought. “Fine. Is there anything I can help with? For inventory.”

“Oh. Yeah, you can go back into the storage room and check on the delivery we got this morning from our distributors. Thanks.”

Jason waited another moment, but she didn’t say anything else, and he wondered if he’d misunderstood the last conversation they’d had. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, he thought, heading down the hall to complete the inventory, but some sort of acknowledgment that they were going to be staying married, at least for now. And he was hoping she’d know what to do next. He sure as hell didn’t.

Lila’s words were still in his head — he had all the pieces of his old life in his hands now, but what did he want to keep? Did he want any of it? He felt sure that he didn’t want medical school. Couldn’t imagine spending his life in that damn hospital. And he wasn’t interested in being the Quartermaine son Monica and Alan seemed to want.

He thought he could be Emily’s brother. Ned and Justus’s cousin. Those pieces didn’t demand anything from him, and they all seemed nice enough. But the last two labels he’d learned of — husband and father. He couldn’t be a father anymore. That opportunity was gone. Being someone’s husband—that was asking a whole lot. And what did it mean to commit to one woman for your entire life? Did he want to do that?

And if he did, was he obligated to make it Elizabeth because they were already married? These were all questions he didn’t know how to ask — or if he should even try. But if he didn’t have answers to them, how was he supposed to know what came next?

——

It was closer to noon, just after Elizabeth had finished her inventory and was looking over the schedule for the next week, when the door to the club opened and Justus strode in. “Elizabeth. Hey. Jason left a message that he’d be here today. Is he around?”

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen with Mike. Um, before you go back to talk to him—” Elizabeth said as Justus stepped back. “He left you a message, you said. Did he tell you that he talked to me?”

“No, just that he needed to see me. I told him you were hesitant to agree, and I got the impression he wasn’t going to push you.” Justus paused. “Did he?”

“No. No, but we talked about it, and, um, I told him yes. So I’m telling you yes. I’ll do it.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I still don’t know if it’s a good idea, but if you think it’s the best way to get Jason out of this situation, then I want that to happen.”

Justus slapped his hand lightly against the bar. “That’s great. Really, you won’t regret it. Let me go grab Jason and we can talk strategy.”

“Fantastic,” she murmured as Justus disappeared into the back. A few minutes later, he re-emerged with Jason following. Elizabeth tossed down the towel she’d been wiping down the bar with, and went to sit with them at a table, leaving a chair between she and Jason at the four-seater.

“All right, here’s what I’m picturing for our attack,” Justus said. “Next week, you have a status conference scheduled,” he told Elizabeth. To Jason, he said, “That’s the last step before the divorce gets set for trial. The Quartermaines have been offering her a buyout of her interest in your estate in exchange for her signature on the papers.”

“A buyout,” Jason echoed. “Money.” He flicked his eyes to Elizabeth. “Was it a lot of money?”

“It started that way,” she murmured, picking at a cuticle. “Half a million to sign the papers and relocate. They wanted me out of the area. I refused. Then they divided that offer in half, and I think, the newest settlement offer is something around fifty grand.”

“Forty,” Justus corrected, and she sighed. “And a promise not to evict you from the marital home.”

Jason furrowed his brow, looked back and forth between them. “But that doesn’t make sense. Elizabeth refusing to sign—shouldn’t they offer more?”

“The closer we get to trial, the more sure Edward is that he’ll win,” Elizabeth told Jason with some reluctance. “My lawyer — who resigned in protest when I turned down the second offer, told me that the judge is some old golfing buddy of Edward’s. The divorce is happening whether I like it or not. I, um, didn’t believe him then,” she admitted. “I do now. The judge refused to even listen to me about the conservatorship.”

“And you think we can make this work?” Jason asked, switching his attention to Justus. “It seems like Elizabeth tried everything.”

“She did. But she didn’t use her own leverage. I’ll be serving my notice of appearance to Edward and Alan at Easter dinner this weekend. They don’t have a clue that I’m involved — they know you’re here,” Justus told his cousin. “Ned’s been playing double agent for us, and one of the maids overheard Edward and Alan deciding to let things play out until the court date. They were interested in how Elizabeth would approach this. How you would react,” he told Jason.

“They’ll be confused if you serve them, though. No one in the house knows about the conservatorship. At least I know Lila doesn’t. Monica…” Elizabeth made a face. “Harder to say.”

“I’m sure that Monica is out of the loop, as well. And I confirmed with Ned that he didn’t know, and yes, I believe him,” he said even as Jason opened his mouth. “Serving them means making sure they know about the conservatorship. Then, we go to court and I file an injunction on behalf of Jason to stop the divorce. The judge will have to let us argue the motion, and I’ll appeal up to the state court to stall out. And believe me, this will go public.”

Elizabeth froze “Public,” she repeated. “You’re looking to use the media against them. You didn’t say that before.”

“Elizabeth, listen, I know the media isn’t your favorite thing—”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Her heart was pounding. “Why not fight it in the court?”

“Because Jason, believe it or not, does not have legal standing. But I can’t get a look at the papers without something. I’m hoping we get a sense of how they were able to establish it in the first place. What reports, what doctors — they have to attach something to defeat my injunction.”  Justus hesitated. “All of that and a leak to the press—”

“No. No. I’m sorry.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. You never said that’d be part of it. I’m sorry.” She jerked her chair back, stood. “No. I won’t do that.”

“Elizabeth—” Justus began.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, mystified. “I don’t understand.”

“Family court records are sealed. I don’t want—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. It took them weeks to go away after—after. Weeks. I can’t do it again. Is that the only weapon the Quartermaines have? Leaks to the press? Don’t you have anything else?”

Justus frowned. “Wait. What leaks are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why—” Her throat closed, and she couldn’t force out the words.

“What’s all the ruckus out here?” Luke emerged from the back, a newspaper in his hand. “What’s going on? Justus? You’re a little earlier for Happy Hour.” He came to Elizabeth’s side. “Lizzie, what’s the situation?”

“I can’t.” Elizabeth fled, and the front door slammed in her wake. Jason took a step towards following her, but Luke snagged his arm.

“Don’t touch me—” Jason shoved at Luke, who just stepped in front of him again.

“And don’t screw with my girl. I told you—what are you and the lawyer asking her to do?” Luke demanded.

“Elizabeth agreed to use her divorce hearing to start the ball rolling so we can get Jason out of this damn conservatorship. But I told her we’d leak what Edward and Alan are doing to the press, and she lost it—”

“Yeah, no shit. He gets a pass on it—” Luke jerked a thumb in Jason’s direction which only infuriated him more. “But you? Tell me you’re not that stupid. You know why she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the media. Not after what happened at the funeral.”

“Oh, come on, Luke. You can’t think they had anything to do with that. I know they’re ruthless, but the police investigation was hardly secret,” Justus scoffed. “Anyone who knew the details would have asked the questions—”

“What funeral are you talking about?” Jason cut in sharply. “If someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on right now—”

“The day we put that baby in the ground,” Luke said in clipped tones, not taking his eyes from Justus, “the press showed up. WKPC shoved a microphone in Elizabeth’s face, asking if she had any regrets about being at a bar and then getting into a car with her baby.”

Jason stared at him. “What? What—”

“It was bullshit, Luke, and everyone knew it—”

“Everyone? Really? That’s not what I heard. It’s not what I saw. All the public knew was that it was a drunk driver who caused the accident, and that succubus on the news made sure they thought it was Elizabeth who’d been drinking.” Luke shook his head, looked to Jason. “It wasn’t. But that didn’t stop the press from going after her. They tried to get her hospital records — and then they found out they didn’t test her for alcohol, they started screaming cover-up—”

“Why do you think the family was behind any of that?” Justus demanded. “No way—they were as devastated—”

“Really? Really? You don’t think they were hoping Jason would believe them—” Luke looked over to Jason — only to find the space empty, and the front door swinging closed. He returned his focus to Justus. “You got a lot of nerve walking in here, trying to get her to let the media into her life again. One call from Edward Quartermaine, and they shut their mouths. You damn well know that.”

“The way I hear it, it was one call from Sonny that took care of it—”

“It shouldn’t have gotten to that. They wanted that marriage over, Justus, and you know it. Edward used that tragedy, and he would have kept using it if Jason hadn’t cracked his head open and forgot all of it ever happened.”

Justus grimaced. “It’s all I got—”

“Yeah, well go find something else. The Quartermaines are done using Elizabeth for their amusement, you hear me? Best thing for her to do is to sign those papers and start over.”

—

Jason should have gone after her immediately, he thought. As soon as she’d fled the bar — but he’d stayed and listened — and now, standing at the entrance of Luke’s, he had no idea where to look for Elizabeth.

And then she cam around the corner of the building, swiping her hand over her mouth as if she was trying to wipe away the taste of something. She stopped when she saw Jason standing there.

“You told me that you didn’t read any of the newspaper coverage.” It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it escaped his mouth anyway. “That I handled everything.”

Her eyes looked too big for her face, and she was still maybe ten feet away. “I didn’t have to read it to know what they were saying. That wasn’t a lie.” Her voice was hoarse, and he wondered why. Had she come out here to scream? To cry?

“Okay. Then tell me what they were saying.” Jason fisted his hands at his side. “Tell me what they did.”

She exhaled slowly, then closed the distance between them, passing Jason to go to the front door. Elizabeth rested her hand on the door, staring at the cheap wood. “No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t at a bar, I was here at Luke’s. I brought Cady here to visit with people who care about me.” She looked back at him. “And then you called because I was late. I got in the car, I was only a few blocks away. And then the car was hit. It rolled and hit a tree, nearly slicing it half. I saw the pictures from the accident report. Edward threw them in my face when he accused me of killing my baby. Cady died on impact. And I was in a coma for almost a week after.”

She sighed, looked back at the door. “You handled everything because I almost died. And then later, because I couldn’t. Everyone blamed me anyway. They didn’t believe I wasn’t drinking, and the press reported that I wasn’t tested. They were screaming cover-up, just like AJ’s accidents had been covered up. Your mother blamed me. Edward. Alan. Emily asked me that question, too, you know. But you never did.”

Elizabeth met his eyes. “I didn’t tell you because it’s over. Sonny made the media go away, and once AJ nearly killed you, everyone had something else to obsess about. You don’t remember. You don’t remember any of it.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “If you want my help with the court hearing, I’ll give it. But no leaks to the press. I don’t want them involved. If even a hint of this ends up in the papers, I’ll take their blood money, sign the papers, and let you fend for yourself.”

Jason slowly nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell Justus. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.” But she looked a thousand miles away, and he didn’t know how to make it better. With every passing day, he learned another fact about the life he’d lived before and he thought less and less of the man he’d been before the accident. What kind of husband had let her be blamed? Had he ever defended her from that damn family?

“It’s not okay,” Jason corrected. He pulled the door open. “But I’ll make it clear to Justus. I want his help, and I want to be free of this. But not at your expense.”

+37

Written in 59 minutes.

Jason didn’t really know why he’d gone back to Elizabeth’s apartment after the uncomfortable conversation with Justus, or why he’d offered to take her on the bike when she’d made it clear more than a few times that what she really needed was space.

But maybe she didn’t really understand it either because she had reached for the helmet, offering him a half smile that almost seemed pitying — as if she didn’t believe anything would really help, but since he was trying to be nice—

She gingerly wrapped her arms around his chest, and there was still space between them. Maybe this had been a bad idea, Jason thought, but if he could just get out of town, to the roads without traffic lights or other drivers—

Her body was stiff, almost like concrete —

Until the first sharp turn on the cliff road that climbed towards the highest point in the city—Jason leaned in and took the turn just a little faster than he should have, and her arms tightened around him—he picked up speed, the wind rushing past, roaring in his ears, slapping at his cheeks—

By the fifth and final turn, Jason heard Elizabeth laughing, her fingers digging into chest, her nails curling into the soft fabric of the t-shirt he wore. She’d scooted forward, leaning against his back, leaning in with him to the turns so that she could feel the difference, the adrenaline rush as the black pavement of the road beneath them came closer, almost as if they were going to fall over—

Then they were out of the turn, and Jason pulled the bike upright again, the danger gone—all that was in front of them now was the final access road that led up to Vista Point. When he glided the bike into one of the parking stops, he waited, wondering what her reaction would be—

Elizabeth stumbled off the bike, falling slightly as she pulled her leg over the back of it. Then she tore the helmet off, her hair tumbling around her face, the flush in her cheeks and sparkling in her eyes visible beneath one of the lamps illuminating the parking lot.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! How fast were you going? I thought we were just going to—” She made a swooshing gesture with her hand. “Fly right off the side off the cliff, and then I thought we were going down, but then we didn’t—” Her hand was shaking as she dragged it through her hair, her breathing rapid. “You’re crazy, you know that? There’s no way that was legal!”

Jason switched off the bike, set it on the stand, and slid off the bike. She backed up a step, but she was still smiling, mouth slightly parted so he could see the flash of her teeth. A real smile, he thought. Not a closed-lip, I’ll put up with this smile. “Is that a complaint?” he asked, tipping his head.

“No. No!” Elizabeth bit her lip, sat the helmet down on the seat of the bike. “Just—I couldn’t think! The first time you went into a turn, and you picked up the speed—” She shook her head. “It all just stopped. Everything went away, and all I could think about was how loud the wind was, and the world was just blurry—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “It all stopped,” she repeated, but more softly. “You said it would. Thank you.”

“It helped me when I first left the mansion,” Jason said. “When I was angry, or frustrated. Every time I lost a job or got kicked out of where I was staying—” He jerked a shoulder.

“Found out you had a secret wife?” she asked with a hesitant smile. And he nodded. “Yeah, I could see how it would be nice to put it all away. Even for a little while.” She folded her arms, then wandered over towards the observation deck overlooking Lake Ontario. He followed, watched as she rested her arms on the metal railing. It had been painted some color of orange years ago, but the paint was flaking off in some spaces and had been worn away by weather in others.

“I haven’t been up here in years,” Elizabeth murmured. “Vista Point. Where the high school kids went to make out if their parents were home.” She flicked her eyes to him with some amusement. “Did you know that? During the spring and summer, you can’t get a parking spot up here.”

“Uh, no, I did not.” He leaned his back against the railing, facing away from the lake. “Did…did you come up here?”

“Mmm, yeah. With Lucky Spencer. Luke’s son.” Elizabeth moved away from the railing, went down the set of two steps to the bench, and he joined her. “We dated until senior year, and he got into MIT in Boston. It was never forever,” she added almost wistfully. “Everyone went away. On to something else. Better and brighter things. Emily went to Stanford, Lucky to Cambridge. The one in Massachusetts, that’s where MIT is,” she said. “His brother Nikolas was already at the real one in England.” She folded her arms, closed her eyes, tilted her head up to the sky. “And I went to work at Kelly’s.”

Jason waited a long moment. “Are you sorry about that?”

“No. Mostly. I wanted to go to art school in New York. I got in, too,” she said. “School of Visual Arts, one of the best in the country. But my parents didn’t want to pay the tuition, and wouldn’t help me get loans.” Elizabeth sighed, dropped her head back down to look at him. “I didn’t qualify without their help, so here I stay. It’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have done anything with my degree anyway. And I’m good at the bar.”

Jason didn’t like that, and wondered why if he’d had all that money before the accident, why he hadn’t given her some of it to go to school. Why had she been working while he went to school— But he didn’t know how to ask that. Or if he even had the right to. He could still remember the way she’d looked at him, with her back to that room in the apartment, refusing to even look inside.

“And you can’t beat Luke as a boss, honestly. He basically lets me do what I want.” Elizabeth shrugged. “So it all worked out.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but it was her life so who was he to disagree with her. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She turned her body slightly, angling so that she could face him. “Tell me. Justus’s back up plan. Did he say what it was?”

Jason shook his head. “We don’t have to talk about that. That’s not why—”

“I know. But I’m asking. He has one, doesn’t he?”

“I—not one that he’s ready to put into action,” Jason said finally. “He said he had to make phone calls. Pull more records—it’s fine. Now that I know what’s going on, I can handle it—”

“But it still involves me.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Did Justus tell you why I was hesitant? I didn’t tell him no, Jason. Did he say I did?”

“No. He just said you didn’t seem that enthusiastic about it.” Jason shoved himself to his feet, restless. “And when he told me you could have been out of this weeks ago, and maybe they wouldn’t be trying to evict you, but—”

“But I was stubborn. I told them I wouldn’t take a dime of their money, but they could have whatever they wanted from me if they just ended the conservatorship.”

When he looked back at her, she was watching with careful, guarded eyes. “You didn’t have to do that. Your lawyer quit.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about representing myself the next time. Costs less money and my client would talk back less.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Jason, his plan means we’d have to go to court and lie. I don’t want to do that.”

Jason frowned. “No. It’s not a lie. I mean, Justus said we’d tell the judge that I don’t want the divorce.  I don’t. That’s not a lie.”

Her lips parted again. “What?”

“I don’t—” He grimaced, then sat down. “Look. I don’t know that I want to be married either,” he said carefully, and she exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what I want. And maybe you do want the divorce. That’s…that’s okay. You should get that if you want it. I’ll give it to you. I just…they’re taking away the choice. That’s what he did when I lived there. He took away the cars, so I bought the bike. So he took away the checkbook. And then he wouldn’t let me out off the estate.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Edward literally had them close the gates so I couldn’t leave.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“He said I didn’t know what I was doing. That everything I did just embarassed the family because I didn’t know how to act. I wasn’t being a good Quartermaine,” Jason bit out. “I told him I didn’t want to be a Quartermaine—so he said until I could behave myself, I couldn’t go out and damage their reputation anymore than I already had.” He shook his head. “And no one stopped him. Not anyone who said they were my family.”

“I’m sorry. Emily—she’s the only person who told me anything. And she never—”

“No, they wouldn’t tell her.” Jason scowled. “But it’s all they know how to do. They tell you they’re your family and that they love you, but all they know how to do is put you in a box. This is who you are, they told me, and anything I did that didn’t fit in that box wasn’t allowed—” He looked at her. “They kept you away from me because they don’t think you fit in the box, do they?”

“No, they don’t.” She smiled faintly. “That never bothered me, though.”

“Well, I don’t think they should be in charge of who I am or what I do or anything else.” He exhaled slowly, some of the tightness easing from his chest. “So I want my choices back. I want to be in control. Not them. I went to Lila today. She told me I had the pieces now. I knew all the things I’d been before, and I could pick what I wanted to keep.”

“Pieces?” Elizabeth echoed with a slight shake of her head. “I don’t understand.”

“They said I was a medical student, a perfect son,” Jason bit out, “but it wasn’t all that I was.   And they — even Lila — they all decided which pieces they were going to give me. I don’t want the life they picked for me. But I don’t—” He hesitated.

“You don’t know if you want the life they kept from you, either,” Elizabeth finished softly. “That’s fair, Jason—”

“But maybe I—” He met her gaze, her steady blue eyes that seemed to know him, even when he didn’t understand himself. “I don’t know. I don’t know where we end up. I just know it shouldn’t be up to them.”

“That’s what Justus said,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, looking away. “That even if we did…go our separate ways, it should be our choice. And the only way we get it back is to fight for it.” She closed her eyes. “I just…the idea of going into that court and telling the judge that you don’t want the divorce — how do we even know he’ll listen? That he’ll believe you? Or me?” She snorted. “Knowing Edward, he already knows you’re at Luke’s and he’s working on a whole new way to make me miserable. He probably thinks I put Luke up to it. What if he makes the judge believe I’m taking advantage of you or something?”

Jason scowled. “I can make my own choices—”

“I didn’t say that I could do it — only that Edward might—I don’t know. I’m just tired of fighting, Jason.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jason promised. “I’ll do it. Justus will take care of everything. He said that you just have to agree. I know you tried hard to make this go away. But I think I can do this. It’s my turn to fight.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, then rose to her feet, returning to the observation deck and the view of the lake. “I just need some clarification on something,” she said finally looking back at him. “You said you don’t know where we end up. Does that mean—” she swallowed hard. “No. Never mind.”

“It means that I don’t know what I want,” Jason said, reaching for her hand on the railing and taking it in his. “But I know that I keep showing up at your door even when I shouldn’t. I don’t know what that means,” he added, and she bit her lip again. “And maybe that’s not enough. I know it’s not enough—”

“It’s…more than I thought I’d ever have. I just don’t know if I can bear to live with the possibility that—” A tear slid down her cheek and her voice faltered. “It’s like you’re offering me a chance to have my husband back so that I’ll help you and I know that’s not what you’re saying—” she rushed to add when he opened his mouth. “But it’s how it feels, and it’s what it means, doesn’t it? Because if I say no, Edward gets this finalized in a matter of weeks, and I’m out of the picture. But if I say yes, this all gets bogged down for weeks and maybe months, and it’s time. So maybe you don’t mean to offer that to me, but you’re doing it.”

Elizabeth pulled her hand back, stepped back and he nearly reached out to stop her, to hold her in one place because she was slipping away again and he didn’t know how to stop her or why he wanted to.

“What do you want me to do?” Jason asked finally, forcing the words out. “You wanted me to go away, and I did that. I can do it again—”

“Feels like we’d just end up here again,” she murmured. She looked down at her hand, at the wedding ring she still wore. Elizabeth twisted it around her finger. “Time,” she repeated. “It’s something I used to pray for. More time with…just more time. And you’re offering it. Maybe it won’t matter. Maybe you won’t love me again. And maybe I won’t love you anymore. Maybe it’ll go away. But it’s time. And I can’t turn away from it. All right. Tell Justus to do whatever he needs to do.” She met his eyes, smiled faintly. “Can we take another ride? I think I need the world to go away again.”

+37

Written in 63 minutes.

Since he’d left the Quartermaine mansion a month ago, Jason had only returned twice to visit with Lila. These were always clandestine meetings, arranged by the butler who was devoted to the older woman.

Jason didn’t really understand why someone would want to spend their life taking care of someone else, but the butler Reginald seemed happy enough. And had no problem ignoring Edward’s dictate that if Jason didn’t want to follow the rules, he couldn’t step foot inside the house.  A call to Reginald was all that was necessary for Jason to find some time to talk to Lila in the kitchen of the mansion.

It had been a few days since he’d gone to the apartment, since Elizabeth had told him she intended to keep her distance. True to her word, she’d arranged Jason’s work schedule so that he never saw her — Elizabeth took the opening shift at the bar and was cleared out by the time happy hour was over.

Jason didn’t much like it, but he didn’t really understand why. Elizabeth was doing what he’d asked everyone else to do, wasn’t she? Treating him like she didn’t know him. She didn’t, Jason reminded himself. And he didn’t really know her.

But sometimes he found himself pulling out the photograph he’d never returned to her, and looking at the image of the life he’d had before the accident. The baby he held whose entire life was less than a handful of pages in a baby book.

Restless and irritated with himself, Jason decided that maybe he needed a few more answers from the people who called themselves Jason’s family, and Lila seemed as good a place to start as any other.

“It’s so lovely to see you my dear,” Lila said, holding out her hands for Jason to take. He squeezed them lightly, then sat down at the kitchen table, next to her wheel chair. “I was so happy to get your message. I’ve worried about you.” She paused. “Edward said you’d lost another job.”

Jason clenched his jaw, dropped his eyes. A few weeks ago, he’d have told her exactly what happened — he’d have told her that Edward and Alan were blacklisting him all over town. But now, he wondered what the point would be. What could Lila do? Justus might think the old lady had power, but Jason had seen no evidence of it.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve been working at Luke’s for about a week. Bartending,” he added. “I have a room upstairs.”

“Luke’s.” Lila’s smile faded just slightly, and Jason wondered if she thinking about Elizabeth. Calculating what he might know, and she should say. “And…you like it? You’ve met your, uh, co-workers?”

“Sonny and Luke seem fine. And Mike, the guy who runs the kitchen, he’s okay. But you’re asking if I met Elizabeth, aren’t you?”

Lila stilled, then slowly nodded. “I was, I suppose, getting to that. But I didn’t know how to…so you’ve met her.”

“I’ve met her. And I know who she is.” Jason paused. “You say you’re my grandmother.”

“My darling—”

“And I like you,” he continued, “so I guess I just want to know how you can be my family and let me walk around for three months without telling me about this.” Jason laid the photograph on the table. “Justus said you thought I’d be angry at Elizabeth. Is that what it was? You were protecting her?”

“Oh. My love.” Lila picked up the photo, her fingertips trailing over the small faces. “She was such a lovely child. You brought her to me every week, you know. Every Sunday afternoon, after church.”

“Did I bring Elizabeth?”

Lila raised her eyes to Jason, tipped her head. “You never asked any questions about before—”

“No one let me forget,” Jason bit out, and she closed her mouth. “Every day — you used to do this, this isn’t how you are, this isn’t what you’re supposed to do—Every day, everyone in this house told me who they thought Jason Quartermaine was. Who they wanted him to be. But no one ever told me about this. Being a medical student and a good son, a good grandson? These were more important?”

Lila gently laid the photograph down, folded her hands in her lap. “If you will remembered correctly, young man, I never did any of that.” Her quiet voice, lined with steel, shamed Jason and his cheeks burned. “By the time you came into this house, you were already angry with the world. Yes, your grandfather acted poorly. Your parents pushed too hard—”

“They lied.”

“By omission, yes. They spoke of the future they wanted you to have because you didn’t want to speak of the past. And Ned thought maybe Elizabeth wanted to keep her distance. After all, she never came to the house and to my knowledge, she never visited in the hospital either—”

“They wouldn’t let her.”

Lila blinked, then shook her head no. “No, that’s not possible. She’s your wife, Jason. She would have the right to see you. And she could have just asked to see me, I would have made sure she was allowed in the house—”

“So you’re telling me Elizabeth is lying?” Jason wanted to know, lifting his brows. He knew the answer to the question. He’d seen the paperwork.

“I—well, she must be mistaken. It was a misunderstanding—” Lila paused. “I thought we ought to give her time to handle it in her own time. And she’s done that, I see. That’s why you’re here. Angry that we lied to you—”

“You told me the pieces you wanted me to know. You left the rest of it out.” Jason looked away. “I had a right, I think, to know.”

“You did. And Ned was wrong, and we were wrong to agree.  But I promise you, dear, I did it because I thought it was best. For you both. I hope you would have been kind to Elizabeth, but I don’t know.” Lila touched his hand. “I am glad that you know now. Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Jason muttered. He didn’t know what he was doing here. What was the point of this conversation. “Is there anything else I should know? Anything else you’re keeping from me to protect me or someone else?”

“No, I promise you, darling. There’s no other dark secret about your life before the accident. You were a wonderful young man with a lot of promise. A medical student who wanted to save lives. A good son, grandson, and brother.” Lila paused. “And a devoted and adoring father and husband. All of those pieces of the puzzle you have now. I suppose it’s up to you which you intend to keep—if any.”

Jason nodded, but said nothing. He slid the photograph back into his wallet, returned it to his pocket.

“And to answer your earlier question, Jason—” He looked up at his grandmother. “No, you never brought Elizabeth. I was always disappointed that you didn’t work harder to build a bridge between this family and your wife. Or stand up for her more. It was the first time I could remember being disappointed in you.”

His throat was tight, and he swallowed. This was a first, he thought. A criticism of the man he’d been before. “What?”

“You never did enough,” Lila said, her tone still gentle, but the look in her eyes was determined. “You never put your grandfather in his place, or pushed back against your parents. They treated Elizabeth terribly from the moment you brought her into this house, and you let them. So, no, Jason, you never brought your wife and daughter to see me at the same time. Does that answer your question?”

He didn’t even know why he’d asked it — but maybe he thought this would be the answer. And he didn’t like it very much. But these were facts wrapped in Lila’s opinion, and Jason didn’t see a reason to disagree with it. Maybe the man he’d been once had been a good one in many respects — but he hadn’t been a perfect one.

And there was something almost reassuring in that particular realization, though he didn’t understand why.

—

Elizabeth set a drink in front of a customer, then slid down to the end of the bar where Justus had been waiting patiently for a few minutes. “Sorry. It always gets a little busy here when there’s the shift change on the docks.”

“Yeah, I know. I, uh, was hoping I could get a few minutes of your time.” Justus raised his brows. “I’ve gone through the legal papers you gave Jason, and looked into a few other things on my own.”

Elizabeth tensed. “I told him that my lawyer—”

“Your lawyer doesn’t return phone calls, Elizabeth. Which you know, don’t you? Since he withdrew from your case a week ago.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t notice that,” she muttered. Then went to fill another drink order, trying to think of how to manage this situation. When she returned to Justus, she thought she had an angle. “Look, I don’t really need a lawyer, right? Especially now that you’re involved with Jason’s case. They were always going to win. The divorce and the eviction—”

“If that’s true, why didn’t you take the settlement they offered? Don’t answer that, I already know.” Justus folded his arms on the bar. “So you’re avoiding Jason—”

“There’s—there’s nothing to avoid. He’s…” Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger, then looked down it, jarred by the casual habit. “It’s in name only at this point. A legal tie that barely means anything—”

“It might mean a whole lot if he wants to get out of this conservatorship,” Justus said, and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “I have some thoughts on that, but before I bring it up to Jason, I need to know if it’s something you’d consider.”

“Why—why would—why would you need me—”

“I know you were trying to get this whole thing dissolved before Jason ever found out it existed. I think it’s a nice thing you tried to do—stupid,” Justus added, and she scowled. “But nice. Making dissolving the conservatorship a condition of the divorce. But Edward and Alan hold all the cards. Or they did. But they should have taken your offer.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked dubiously. “What can I even do?”

“Edward is asking the family court for a divorce on Jason’s behalf. I can’t get into the probate court records,” Justus said. “Even if I’m Jason’s attorney. But you know what I might be able to do? File an injunction to stop the divorce. Because if you and Jason walk into that court, and tell the judge you don’t want a divorce, I’d be very interested to learn how Edward works around that with a judge.”

Elizabeth stared at Justus for a long moment, then shook her head. “No. No, it wouldn’t work. Okay? It’s…you’re not thinking it through, okay? Because—because—” She couldn’t think. Couldn’t form whole words. Her brain had skittered to a stop—

She heard her name called, and went to serve another regular, furiously turning Justus’s decision over and over again in her mind, trying to find the right reason to reject it.

“Here’s why it doesn’t work,” Elizabeth said, finally going back to the end of the bar. “Because Jason and I would have to lie to the court and say we were staying married. And we’re not. Okay? We’re not. He doesn’t want that. And you’re a lawyer, you’re—you’re not supposed to let us lie.”

“I think you and I both agree that you and Jason should be making that decision on your own,” Justus told her, and she bit her lip dropping her eyes to the top of the bar. “And right now, you’re not. Edward’s making it for you, and you’re fighting it to get Jason free of my idiot grandfather. The only way that decision gets returned to you, Liz, is if you fight to make it yours. And we do that by making the judge question why Edward is in even in his court at all. And start embarrassing Edward for having a conservatorship that isn’t valid. It can’t be. Jason’s completely capable of living his own life.”

“He—I know he is. I tried—” She fisted her hand, bit her lip. “Edward is going to point out Jason and I don’t live together. We’re not married in anyway that actually matters. We barely know each other.”

“We can talk about all of that, Elizabeth. You probably have a point. If the judge thinks you’ll just get divorced anyway—but I need leverage to get at this conservatorship.” Justus leaned forward. “And this is the best one I’ve got. And listen, Jason still has to agree to this, so it’s not a done deal. But can I ask him?”

“You can ask him, but I’m not agreeing until I know what he says. It’s his life. I just want him to have his life back.”

“Then I’ll talk to him, and we’ll see what happens.” Justus lid off the bar stool. “I’ll be in touch.”

——

But it wasn’t Justus that followed up on the conversation — it was Jason. Without warning, when she fully expected him to be working the night shift with Claude behind the bar, Jason showed up at the apartment that night.

She stared at him through the peephole, considered changing her name and running away to Mexico. If she climbed through the window—

Instead, Elizabeth pulled the door open, but remained in the doorway. She didn’t think she could handle Jason in the apartment again. Once was enough.

“Hey.” Jason’s hands were in the pockets of the leather jacket he wore, his expression hidden mostly by the shadows of the hallway. “Sorry to just show up, like this, but I told Luke I needed the night off.”

“That’s Luke’s problem, not mine.” She folded her arms. Didn’t move an inch. She needed to keep this boundary. Needed to do whatever was necessary to keep Jason out of her life. He needed to be nothing more some lines on the divorce papers whenever they arrived.

“I talked to Justus. Um. He said you…that you’d talked to him.”

“I did.”

“Can—” Jason squinted. “Can I maybe come in, and we can talk about it—”

“No. No. I’m sorry. I can’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Look, just wait right here, okay? I’ll go get a jacket and we can talk outside.”

She closed the door before he could answer, and went to get a thin jacket and a pair of sneakers. When she went back to the hallway, Jason was still waiting. “I’m not trying to be rude, but—”

“You don’t want me in the apartment,” Jason said. “I understand.”

“Glad one of us does,” Elizabeth muttered, before taking the flight of stairs down to the street level.

Outside their apartment building, parked by the street was the motorcycle she knew he’d bought before he’d left the Quartermaines. Emily had related the story over the phone, one she’d heard from her mother — Jason had driven right through the terrace doors during breakfast —

It had seemed like a fantastical tale — one that her Jason would never do, and so Elizabeth had put it out of her head, assuming Emily had been given an exaggerated version of whatever had happened.

But there was the bike — a Harley Davidson — parked at her curb.

Elizabeth turned back to Jason, keeping her back to the bike. “So you talked to Justus.”

“Yeah. He, ah, told me what he wanted to do. What he asked.” Jason’s eyes held hers. “But you don’t want to do it. So we need to think of something else. I wanted to tell you not to worry about it.”

“Oh—oh.” Elizabeth pressed his lips together, folded her arms. She hadn’t expected that, she realized. “I, um, I’m sorry—”

“No, I get it. You said you needed space. You need not to see me, and I—I understand that. You shouldn’t have to go in court and tell a judge something else. I told Justus we can do something else.”

“I—” Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “I told you I’d help. I—just—” She closed her eyes. “Justus has a backup plan, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know. He’s working on some things. But it’s not your problem,” Jason said. “I’m not your problem. I want you to know that. He said you were trying to get them to end the conservatorship, and your lawyer quit because you wouldn’t give up on that. I’m sorry—”

“You didn’t do anything.” Elizabeth winced when she realized how irritated she sounded. “You didn’t. None of this is your fault. All you did—” Was get into that damn car, she thought. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I think I know, and I try to do it, and it’s not. It always seems to be wrong. I tried to force my way into the hospital, and it just gave them the idea to do this — it backfired, and it just keeps backfiring—” She pressed her hands to her head. “And I can never just take a breath and make it all stop.”

“I can—” Jason stopped, and when he didn’t say anything, she frowned at him. “I can help with that.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked. “How?”

Jason walked past her to the bike, and reached for the helmet. He held it out to her. “When I left the Quartermaines, I wanted to stop thinking, too. This helps. I know you said you don’t want to be around me—”

“It’s not—” Her voice faltered. “It’s not about not wanting to be around you. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I just feel like it’s all falling apart, and it’s been crumbling for months, and every time I’ve built just a little bit of my world up again, it shatters, and eventually there won’t be anything left. I’ll just be…empty. There’ll be nothing. Do you know what that feels like?”

His voice was rough when he answered, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I do. That’s pretty much where I live. I can’t make it go away for good, but maybe…for a little while.” He extended the helmet again, and this time —

She took it.

+45

Written in 60 minutes.

Why does it matter to you? It was my money. You don’t even know me. So what are you doing here?

Jason didn’t know how to answer that question. There were so many questions he didn’t know how to answer these days — it would be more surprising if he could tell Elizabeth why he’d come over tonight, why he’d pushed her one the one subject that wasn’t really that important. He’d meant to ask her about the eviction notice — that was clearly more urgent and something that was being done now.

But he’d lived in the Quartermaine mansion for almost two months, and he knew the way they used their money. It had been the first carrot Edward had dangled in front of Jason to control him — do what I want and you can have whatever you want. Cross me, and you get nothing. When Jason hadn’t been willing to control his temper or stop asking questions of his own or pointing out how badly that so-called family treated one another — the money had been yanked away from him.

He didn’t care about it. He hadn’t earned it, and he could go out and find his own. He’d done just that, even if he now knew Edward and Alan had been sabotaging him at every opportunity. After getting kicked from Jake’s, Jason had planned to head out of Port Charles and trying something else. Then Luke had come to him, promised there’d be no Quartermaines to push him around, and Jason had stayed because it was easier to stay where he was for now.

But he didn’t like the idea that they were stealing from someone else. And they were using Jason to do it. They were doing it in his name, if he understood what a conservatorship meant. He didn’t want to be used. He didn’t want to be part of it.

Jason opened his mouth, maybe to explain this to her, but she just rolled her eyes and flounced away from him, because he’d taken too long to answer. He’d stood in front of her like a block of concrete — Lois had told him that once. Jason had to think about some things for a while to make it come out right, but it was always just a little too long and no one ever had patience for it —

“Never mind,” Elizabeth said. She went over towards the kitchen, jerked open the fridge door. “Was that all you wanted or—”

“Why do you ask questions if you don’t want the answer?” Jason demanded, and she looked at him, her hand resting on the top of the door, the bright, unnatural light of the fridge casting a strange shine to her face. “You ask and you get mad because I don’t have the words you want.”

“That’s not—” Elizabeth bit her lip, closed the door. “I’m not looking for words—”

“Then what are you looking for? It’s not an easy question with a yes or no or a fact answer,” he cut in again, feeling that old familiar rage rising because no one ever gave him a chance. They all thought he was too stupid to understand anything anymore. “I can’t just reach inside my brain and explain everything the way you want me to! I have to think!”

“I’m sorry. I’m—” Elizabeth retraced the few steps that separated the kitchen from the living area, and stopped behind the sofa, her fingers picking at the fringe on the throw blanket she’d folded over the top. “Okay. Do you want to answer my question then or do you want more time?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like an idiot, either. I’m not,” he said, his teeth clenched, his heart thudding so hard it pounded in his ears. “You’re just like them, and I thought you’d be different.”

Elizabeth rubbed her face, dragging both hands down her cheeks, then left them covering the skin. “No good answer here, then. Okay. Fine. Go. Leave. Or don’t. I’m too tired to do this.”

She dropped into the armchair, drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m just so tired, you know? It never seems to be good enough for anyone. I’m never  good enough. I never say the right things, or wear the right clothes, or go to the right schools—and that’s not me trying to make to you feel bad for being mad at me. You’re right. I got frustrated when you didn’t immediately answer because I’m embarrassed. I’m humiliated by the whole damn thing.” Her voice broke and she dropped her forehead against her knees. “I didn’t even know it was my money they took. I thought it was yours, and I figured, oh well. So what? And I took it. I always take it from them. I don’t know how to stop.”

Some of the pulsing anger faded, though he remained irritated. “I don’t like they used me to steal from you,” he said, his tone clipped, and she lifted her head to look at him, the tear stains on her cheeks making his stomach feel strange. “I don’t know you. Not the way you want me to. But you’re a person and you were nice to me. You didn’t lie to me when I asked you questions. And you tried to help me. I don’t like that they’re using me to hurt you.” He paused, sat down carefully on the edge of the sofa. “They’re evicting you. You never said that.”

Elizabeth exhaled, her breath shaky. “Because that’s about me. Not you. You don’t live here anymore. You’re not paying the rent. It’s my home, and they’re taking it from me to make me leave town. They want me to go away. It’s what they’ve always wanted. I didn’t tell you because it’s not about you. Your name is on the lease, but you don’t remember signing it. You don’t know me,” she repeated gently. “You said it yourself. So why bother you with that? I told you about the bank account because it was how I found out about the conservatorship. Because you need to know that they control everything. Not because I ever thought it was my money they took.”

There was a logic to that and he could appreciate it. She’d put everything in a pile that was about him and kept what was hers. “Yes. Okay. I understand that. Because they’re using my name to do it.”

“Yes. They are.” Elizabeth sighed, dropped her legs back to the ground. “I should have told Lila as soon as it happened, you know? Or Emily. The minute I got those divorce papers and I realized how far they’d gone. Monica wouldn’t have believed me, but maybe…but I didn’t.” She looked at him, her dark blue eyes still shining with tears she hadn’t yet shed. “I’m tired of being the reason Emily fights with her family, and for all that Lila’s taken my side, nothing would change. All it would do is cause them pain. Edward and Alan would just do whatever they want. Just like always.”

She scrubbed at her face, pushed herself up. “Okay, well that’s enough of all that. I don’t need that money. I didn’t earn it anyway. I wasn’t working.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “You talked to Justus. And he saw the papers, so he believes me. That’s good. He hasn’t been a Quartermaine long enough to be as ruthless as Alan and Edward.” When Jason frowned at her, Elizabeth clarified, “He didn’t know his father was Edward’s son until a few years ago. It was kept quiet mostly because Justus’s father died like twenty years ago, and they found his body—never mind. It’s not relevant. But he’s a great attorney. He’ll know how to help you. If there’s anything my divorce attorney can do for you, if there’s papers or anything, I don’t know, I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth walked towards the door, and Jason realized she was sending him away. Politely, but it didn’t change that she wanted to him to leave.

And he wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. There were still things that had to be said, weren’t they? Jason searched for a reason to stay, to ask her another question.

“Are there more pictures?” he said, and Elizabeth stopped, her hand falling away from the doorknob. She turned back, met his eyes with her brows drawn together quizzically. “You only brought two when you came to the club today.”

“I brought what I thought I needed — to prove what I was showing you.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “There are pictures, yeah. What do you want to see? I can—” Her voice tightened, and she looked away. “No. No, I can’t. I can’t show them to you. Um—” She pressed a fist to her heart. “Why do you want to see them? You said you didn’t know me. And you told everyone for months that you aren’t Jason Quartermaine anymore. That’s not who you are. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes,” Jason said warily. “But—”

“But you don’t get to have it both ways. I will tell you anything you want to know, okay? And I’ll show you whatever you want to make those facts real. Or explain anything you want. But I don’t look at those pictures anymore. I carried that one around with me, and I never looked at it. I can’t.” Her voice faltered, and she sucked in another deep breath. “They’re from a life that doesn’t exist anymore. You don’t remember it, and I wish I could forget it.”

“I—” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “You gave me her book. There were pictures in there.”

“I don’t look at that anymore. I won’t. You can keep it. You can burn in it. I don’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. Exhaled in a rush of breath that sounded ragged, though she wasn’t crying anymore. “You want to see it? Fine. Come with me.”

She spun on her heel, stalked across the living space to one of the doors tucked by the window. She threw it open, flicked on a light, but didn’t go inside. Kept her back to the door. Her eyes were empty now, the colors had faded from her cheeks, leaving her skin a stark white. “After I came home from the hospital, when they released me, I refused to come into the apartment because she was everywhere and I told you if you made me come in here, I’d throw myself out the window. You don’t remember that day. I do. It was a terrible, awful thing I said to you, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t see you. See anything past what was happening to me. So you took me to Luke’s, and said you’d handle it. You put everything in this room. I don’t go in here anymore. I pretend it’s not here. It’s easier that that way.”

She stepped aside, leaving the path to room open. Her back was to him, her face staring out the window.

Jason was frozen on the other side of the living room. Such a small space that felt impossibly huge. And he had a flash of empathy, of understanding of what he was doing by asking these questions. By pushing her to talk about this — to look at pictures —

He went to the door, turned off the light, and gently pulled the door shut. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped, and she slowly turned back to face him, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. “If you want to look at it—”

“I won’t ever remember her,” Jason said, and she closed her eyes. “I think I want to, but the doctors say it’s not possible. It’s not amnesia. I won’t ever remember her. It’s not fair to put you through this just so I can maybe one day feel a connection to her. To Cady,” he said, the name feeling strange on his lips and that was a sad fact, he thought. He didn’t know anything about being a father, but a child’s name should be a familiar sound. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, the movement slow and jerky. “It’s, um, a very weird situation we’re in, and I get it. There’s, um, legal stuff that still ties us together and I know that has to be handled. I know it. And you’re very kind to even…” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “You’ve been very kind to show any interest in what happened before your accident outside of what Alan and Edward are doing. But this is really hard for me.” She lifted her eyes to him, and while he wasn’t always very good at understanding what someone was feeling, the pain in her gaze felt like a punch to his gut. “You’re not my husband anymore. He died that night in December. I loved him very much. You have his face, his DNA, his voice, and maybe some of his personality, time will tell. But you don’t love me anymore.”

“No,” Jason said, though it didn’t require a response.

Elizabeth swiped at her tears. “This is why Luke made you come to the club. He knew I had to face it. I don’t—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I knew what the doctors said. I knew what Emily had told me — I knew you didn’t remember me. But until you were standing in front of me the other day, I didn’t know I didn’t believe it. I thought I was special, somehow. That I could transcend medicine — that what we had, who we were to each other —” She shook her head, her low laughter almost derisive. “I thought you’d know me even when you didn’t know anyone else. I was holding on to that silly thought, and Luke knew it. And I didn’t. I didn’t know I was clutching that dream so tight so that I wasn’t breathing. I wasn’t living.”

Elizabeth abruptly turned, went to the kitchen, and switched on the faucet. She splashed water on her face a few times, then reached for a towel to dry it. Jason remained where he was, standing by the closed door.

“You should still work at Luke’s. It’s a good job, and Luke’s a really good boss. But I’m going to ask him to schedule you for Claude’s shifts. I’m sorry,” she added. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you get out of the conservatorship. We’ll sign the divorce papers. And you can be free to be whoever you want. But I can’t work with you. It’s not fair to you—”

“I decide what’s fair to me,” Jason cut in, unsure why the thought of not seeing her at the club, of knowing that she was going to cut herself out of his life all over again. He’d only known her for a handful of days, but it seemed wrong to go back to not knowing her.

“It’s not fair to me,” Elizabeth said, and he had nothing to say to that. “Because I still love you. And I don’t know how to stop. So, I’ll let my attorney know he can talk to Justus, and I’ll do whatever you want,” she repeated. “But I think maybe I need to keep my distance. For my own sanity. I need to move on, I need to know if I even can. So if you could just go, and not argue with me, I’d appreciate it.”

+32

Written in 61 minutes.

With the cordless phone pressed against her ear, Elizabeth tucked a half gallon of milk under her arm and picked up the box of cookies with her free hand. “No, Em, I’m not mad at you—”

“Because I could have told Ned he was wrong.” Emily’s voice, thin and a bit faded over the connection between Port Charles and Berkeley. “Grandmother and I both thought about it—”

“And I told you that it was okay.” Elizabeth set the cookies and milk on the coffee table, then went back into the kitchen to find a wide mug to dunk her snack. Because a girl needed her comforts and she was out of tequila. And vodka.

She curled up on the sofa, folding her legs underneath her, then reached for a throw to throw over the legs left bare by her lounge shorts. “You told me how angry he was—we all agreed it might have made things worse. And…you know, I didn’t want to do that.”

“I know. I wish you’d told us about Dad keeping you out of the hospital. Grandmother is still furious—” Emily paused. “You really need to stop protecting us. We know how insane our family is. When they bother you—”

“I don’t want to cause problems,” Elizabeth said. She ripped open the plastic protecting the sleeve of cookies. “I still don’t. I can handle your family, Em. I’ve been doing it my whole life—”

“This isn’t like when we were in high school, Liz, and they gave money to the school so that you and I wouldn’t be in the same homeroom. Keeping you out of the hospital was really awful. I can’t believe they’d go so far!”

And Emily’s tears and the fights she’d had with her family had sealed the deal for Elizabeth — she wasn’t going to tell her best friend what new evil her family was up to. Emily and Lila were really the only members of the family she could count on. Ned was nice enough, but he was the gatekeeper. The protector. It was his job to clean up the messes — AJ had been quietly shipped off to a luxurious European rehab the day after the accident. She’d never been able to vent her frustration and anger at the alcoholic who’d destroyed what was left of her life.

And what could Emily do in California? What would Lila be able to do? Fume at Edward? Show disapproval? Lila had always taken Elizabeth’s side, and it hadn’t stopped Alan or Edward from doing worse the next time around.

“Well, where did you leave things with Jason? Did you even talk about what you’re going to do with the…I mean, you’re married.”

“I assure you—” Elizabeth sighed. “I didn’t forget that. And no, we didn’t get that far. I…pushed harder than I should have, Em. I’m just giving you some heads up in case you talk to Jason.”

“When I get home for spring break—”

“I know, I know. You’ll fix everything.”

“Call me, okay? When you talk to Jason again. Or no, beep me, okay? Because then I’ll call you and it’ll be my turn to take the charge.”

“You just had to go to college in California,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll call you next week—”

“And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll call on Saturday.”

Elizabeth tossed the phone on the other side of the sofa, then stared at the cookies and milk she’d set up for herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone to the trouble of putting together something to eat and lost her appetite before taking a single bite.

She returned the milk and cookies to the kitchen, set the mug in the sink, and stared at the drain for a long moment. The last six months had been such a strange fog, she thought. One foot in front of the other — and most of the time, she hadn’t really remembered anything.

Not since she’d opened her eyes in a hospital room last November, and Jason had told her about the accident. Since he’d told her Cady was gone.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Not for the first time, she wished she’d been in the car with Jason and AJ that night and that the memories had been taken from them both. Their first wedding anniversary had been two weeks earlier, and Elizabeth had worked through it — ignoring the date for as long as she could. Until she’d gone home and retrieved the mail to find a postcard from a well-meaning friend of Jason’s from college who hadn’t been kept in the loop. He’d wished them a happy anniversary and hoped to see them when he came to the area that summer.

Elizabeth didn’t have a lot of delusions about what came next. Jason would take the information she’d given him, and he’d go to court where any sane judge would see he didn’t need a conservatorship. He’d get it dissolved and he’d be free. The only question would be whether it would be before or after the divorce went through —

Or her eviction.

She swept her eyes around the apartment. It had been Jason’s before they moved into together. He’d signed the lease after graduating from Stanford as proof to her that she wasn’t some summer fling before he went back to California to medical school. He’d always planned to come home to Port Charles, and she’d just been a bonus to those plans.

But she’d made it hers over the last year — artwork, photos, splashes of color— it was theirs, and they’d made it a home. But it had always  been in Jason’s name — and now she was paying for a rash choice not to renew the lease in both their names.

The knock at the door caught her attention, and she sighed, hoping it wasn’t Sonny or Luke to check on her.  They’d already called a few times she’d a message that she and Claude were switching shifts that night.

She pulled the door open, then simply stared at the man on the other side — who had never, ever knocked on this door before.

Because it was his apartment.

“Jason.”

—

“Lois, I don’t know why we have to argue about this—” Ned Ashton pulled open the door in mid-sentence, waved Justus inside, then turned back to his wife without missing a beat. “If you want to go on tour, go on tour.”

“You don’t have a single thing to say about me going off around the world for maybe three or four months?” Lois fisted her hands at her hips, tapped her foot. “Listen here—”

“Is this a bad time?” Justus asked. “Because—”

“No. This is a perfect time. I have to go to the Outback and talk to Brenda anyway. But we’re not done arguing.” Lois glared at her husband, then left, slamming the door behind her.

“I will never understand woman,” Ned muttered. “She wants to go on tour, I tell her, hey go on tour! And somehow that means I’m not committed to our marriage—”

“Well, you know there was that one time when you were married to someone else at the same time,” Justus said. “You can understand how she has trust issues.”

Ned scowled at his cousin. “Did you come over to make fun of me or—”

Justus set the file he’d retrieved from Jason on the desk by the window. “Remember when we agreed for the good of the order that telling Jason he had a wife could wait? And everyone, including Alan and Edward, thought it was a great idea?”

“Yeah, it rings a distant bell. Did Jason find out?”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I got involved. At the time, you and I both thought it was a little weird that Alan and Edward weren’t leaping at the chance to fill Jason’s head with all kinds of horror stories about Elizabeth. This was before they realized Jason was never going to listen to a damn thing they said.”

“Yeah, but then we found out Alan barred her from the hospital—I wish she’d told us. I’d have helped her fight it—” Ned stopped, looked at Justus. “What did they do?”

“Oh, you might want to sit for this.” Justus held up a piece of paper. “Elizabeth was barred from the hospital not on the power of the board of directors but through a power of attorney. Alan petitioned to be put in charge of all the decisions. And then, a week later, when Jason woke up without a memory…” He held up another piece of paper. “We get our first petition from the probate court asking for a conservatorship to be declared over the person and estate of Jason Morgan Quartermaine.”

Ned waited a long beat, then nodded. He crossed to the mini bar against the back wall, poured himself a glass of vodka and passed another to Justus. “Conservatorship. Christ. The damage they could do—”

“The damage they did do. First, they closed Elizabeth and Jason’s checking accounts. Joint and separate. They put all of the funds into Jason’s trust fund.”

Some of the liquid sloshed over the edge as Ned simply stared. “The hell—”

“I need to do some more forensic accounting, but I’m pretty sure they stole around three grand from Elizabeth that had nothing to do with Jason’s money. Then they filed for divorce—”

“Divorce—”

“And eviction.” Justus slapped this last notice down. “Since the second Jason woke up from that coma, Alan and Edward have been systematically stripping Elizabeth of every single resource she might use to fight them…or stay in Port Charles long enough to tell Jason who she is.”

“You were right. I need to sit.” Ned sank onto the sofa, then tossed back half the vodka. “Let me—let me get this straight. For the last two months—”

“Ten weeks,” Justus corrected. “Jason woke up ten weeks ago. They filed a conservatorship after he woke up. The next day, so there’s no argument they didn’t know.”

“Christ.” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why didn’t she—”

“Has Elizabeth ever once asked for our help when it comes to this family? No. She doesn’t want Emily or Lila in the middle.” Justus exhaled slowly. “This is just the court documents she has access to. But I bet if we talk to Ruby and Jake —”

“I wish I could tell you that they’re not that conniving — that they wouldn’t try to bankrupt Elizabeth into leaving town but—” Ned grimaced, rose to his foot. “They wanted Jason to stay under their control long enough to keep Elizabeth away from him. He knows about this now? He knows about Elizabeth?”

“Yeah. He knows about enough of it. And I’m going to help him learn whatever else there is to know. Are you in?”

Ned finished the last of his drink. “Where do we start?”

—

He wasn’t really sure how or why he’d ended up at the apartment — only that he’d seen the address on one of the bank statements Justus hadn’t taken with him, and Jason had too many questions that he needed answered.

And Luke could only supply a few reluctant ones. The rest…

Elizabeth clearly hadn’t been expecting company — her face was wiped clean, and she looked younger without the makeup she’d worn every other time he’d seen her — the deep red lipstick, the liner around her eyes —

Her hair had been piled on top of her head, pieces falling loose, hanging down her neck and laying across her cheek. She wore a pair of pink cotton shorts and a t-shirt in a matching color, her feet bare with toenails painted the color of candy bubble gum he’d seen at Kelly’s.

“I would have called,” Jason said when she remained silent, only staring at him. “But I didn’t know your number. And Luke…wouldn’t give it to me.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, then stepped back. “Um, come in. I guess. If you want. I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

He walked past her, and she closed the door, turning and leaning against it. “I called Justus when you left. He’s going to look at everything.”

“Oh. Okay. That makes sense. Um, he probably knows more than I do. My lawyer is from the strip mall on Courtland Street, so I don’t know—” Elizabeth rubbed her arms. “I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t really have anything.”

“That’s fine.” Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Luke was paying you, did you know that?”

Her brows drew together over her eyes and she shook her head slightly. “What? When?”

“He never stopped,” Jason said. “You went on maternity leave. And Luke kept paying. You never missed a paycheck.”

“No, he—” Elizabeth squinted. “No. I didn’t—I didn’t really…I didn’t know that. I was…” She flattened a hand over her belly, almost curled protectively as if she were pregnant. “I was really tired by the end. And you, um, Luke said he’d take care of the details with you. I guess those were details. I didn’t know that.” Elizabeth walked past him, back towards the sofa. She picked up a yellow and orange throw blanket that had been tossed on the sofa and began to fold it, her expression still strained. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah. It does. Justus took some of the bank stuff, but he left some of it, too. I found one from June. You said there was a trust fund.”

“Yeah. Yeah—” Elizabeth exhaled, tossing the blanket over the back of the sofa. “Quarterly. I don’t remember what you said the amount was. You used it for tuition and bills—”

“It went into savings in June,” Jason said, and she looked at him. “And the July statement. There’s a payment for the university which took most of the money. You said the Quartermaines thought you were…”

“A gold digger,” she said faintly, her eyes trained on his face. “I know that you wanted to pay for medical school on your own. It was important to you not to use your parents’ money or take out loans. And you said something about using your trust fund, and that whatever was left over, we’d put into the joint account for us both. And I knew my paycheck was regular, so I just figured between the two of us, we were fine. And we were…”

“Justus looked at the bank statements. You were paying for almost everything, Elizabeth,” Jason said. “Why didn’t you tell them that? Why didn’t anyone tell them that? The money they took when they closed that account in January? It was yours. The trust fund was never released at the end of December. They stopped it because of the accident.”

“I don’t—I never paid attention to the money. You did all of that. Maybe that’s stupid,” she muttered.  She sank onto the sofa. “It was, of course, it was. And it makes me madder that they took my money, but that’s my fault for not knowing what was mine or yours, or I don’t know. I didn’t care.” She glanced up at him. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. We were married. We took care of each other. Maybe I was carrying the everyday bills, but you were going to a doctor. It would even out later—and—I don’t—”

Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I don’t care about that,” she repeated. “But you came all the way over here because you do. Why? Why does it matter to you? It was my money. You don’t even know me. So what are you doing here?”

+33

Written in 63 minutes.

Elizabeth would have made a clean exit from the building if not for Mike Corbin leaving the storage room. She crashed into him and nearly went to the floor but the older man took her by the elbow and kept her upright.

“Whoa, honey. What are you in such a rush for?”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t want to. The rush of righteous anger had evaporated, and everything was swirling, crawling up her throat, and if she opened her mouth, it would just pour out and she might never close it all up again—

“Come here. Come on. Come into the kitchen.” Gently, Mike ushered down the back hallway into the club’s kitchen. Though Luke’s wasn’t known for its cuisine, it served the basic bar dishes and the burgers weren’t half bad, especially after a few drinks.  Mike was the kitchen manager — a position Luke had given him to keep Mike and Sonny, his son, from coming into contact all that much.

Mike pushed her onto a stool in the prep area and went to the sink to pour a glass of water. “You were coming from upstairs, so I guess you had a run in with Jason.”

Elizabeth nodded, sipped the water, but still didn’t trust her voice. Mike sat across from her, folded his arms, and looked at her kindly. “I argued with Luke, you know. And to the extent Michael listens to me when I have something to say, I argued with him, too. I don’t think it was fair to push you or Jason into dealing with each other until you were ready.”

She closed her eyes. “Jason didn’t have any idea about the conservatorship,” she admitted, and was relieved when her words were steady. “I mean, I figured as much, but it was…I did too much, Mike. I pushed too much on him, just like the Quartermaines, and I told myself I wouldn’t, but I just—”

She pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, the other hand gripping the glass tightly. “He was looking at the picture of us. We took one photo of us, one professional one, I mean. Just before the accident. I wanted it for our Christmas card. The first one as a family, and I had in my wallet, and I shoved it at him to prove what I was saying — and he just stared at it—”

“I know the picture, honey.” Mike reached into his back pocket, retrieved his own wallet. “We all carry it, you know. I was proud when you gave me a copy. To be included.”

Elizabeth took the photo he handed her. “It’s just—he stared at it, and I thought he wanted to know her, and then I realized he didn’t want to be told things. He wanted to know them. And so…I gave him so much—” She smiled wanly. “Marriage and birth certificates. His medical school stuff. Bank statements. Legal records. The baby book. I wanted him to know her. I just—” She bit her lip. “I wanted him to love her again, and it’s selfish because I know it’s not possible—”

“Why not, honey? Why couldn’t he look at all of that, and feel how much he’d loved that little girl?” Mike asked. He put a hand on her wrist. “It’s not selfish to want to share that—”

“It is selfish, Mike. Because I’m alone with it all now—I know you…I know you all cared and loved her. You’re my family. But it’s not the way Jason and I—and now it’s just me, so it’s selfish to drag him back into it. But I just thought…” She sipped her water. “He only asked about the hospital. Why I wasn’t there. I should have given him the legal stuff and left, but he was asking questions, and I just—I thought for a minute…”

“He’d remember?”

“No. Yes. No. I know it’s not possible. It’s not amnesia. I know he’s not the same. I can see it, you know? The way he holds himself, the way he looks — it just isn’t the same.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “And he can’t…the labels on the bottles, and pictures. I know he has injuries that aren’t going to heal. Processing, I think. And the memories — they’re not locked up waiting to be found. They’re gone. I know that. But I just—”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t ready for what it would be like. To sit across from him, to have all that history, and know I’m the only one who carries it now. It was harder than I thought, and I went too far. I tried too hard to make him know who he used to be, and now he’s angry at me, and I feel terrible.”

“Then you let him have a few minutes,” Mike said, patting her hand again. “A day maybe. You let him be, and let him come to you. You gave him a lot to process, honey, and now you need to let him do it. Patience. Which isn’t something you’re good at.”

“No.” And now she smiled faintly. “I know that. It’s why we were such a good match, you know? I was impulsive and reckless, and Jason was contemplative and patient, and we balanced. Now…we’re nothing, and it’s…losing him all over again.” She sighed, gave him back the photo. “But you’re right. I gave him a lot of information. What he does with it—that’ll be his choice. Thanks, Mike.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

——

While waiting for Justus Ward, another one of the cousins, Jason ignored the papers Elizabeth had brought, leaving them piled on the small kitchen table. Instead, he sat on the tiny twin bed and paged through one of the magazines he’d found in Luke’s office. He liked to read, he thought, because the letters were in simple, clear, print and they made sense to him.

Maybe he’d get a library card. Or did he have one? Probably. He’d be able to do that now that he had an address. He didn’t know why that mattered, only that it did. One of those mysterious pieces of knowledge he didn’t always understand, but knew to be true.

The only thing he’d kept away from the table had been the baby book. It sat on the little square table next to the bed next to a brass-plated lamp. Jason had already read it twice, and knew there wasn’t anything more to find in it, but there was something about it that he didn’t quite want to let go of.

He’d have to return it to Elizabeth at some point — she remembered the baby, and he didn’t, so it was hers. But for now—

The knock came almost two hours after the phone call, and Jason hurried to pull open the door. Justus stood on the other side, a few inches taller and a handful of years older. He’d graduated from law school, Jason remembered. Had practiced for a few years. He’d understand the documents.

“Sorry, I had a meeting with a client.” Justus stepped in, his dark suit rumpled. He pulled at the tie around his neck. “You said you had something for me to look at?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Jason closed the door. “But first, I need you to answer two questions.” He turned to look at the cousin. His cousin, Jason tried to remember, though he wasn’t sure if he was ready to claim that. There was the legal and biological relationship, which he understood. Justus’s father had been Bradley Ward, brother to Alan and son of Edward. Which made him a cousin.

But being a cousin didn’t mean Jason to claim him as his, and the distinction mattered in his head. He didn’t really know why, only that it was more comfortable to think about the relationships in clear terms.

“What’s up?” Justus looked around the room. “Luke really could have done more with this place, but I’m not surprised he didn’t.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need much. My questions.” Jason considered the wording. He didn’t want to be angry. He’d been angrier earlier, more angry than he should have been, and he didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be out of control. To hurt people, and Elizabeth had been hurt. He needed to try harder. He would try harder. “Why didn’t you tell me about Elizabeth and did you know Alan and Edward went to court and got a conservatorship?”

Justus’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “A conservatorship? What the—Are you kidding me? What the hell?”

The reaction felt sincere, so Jason decided to believe him. He crossed to the table, sifted through the pile until he found the folder Elizabeth had given him. “Elizabeth. She got divorce papers from the court. Filed on behalf of the conservatorship.”

“You’ve got to be joking—” Justus cross to him, yanked the paper from Jason’s hand, though the action and words didn’t feel directed as Jason, so he didn’t take offense. “Holy fuck,” his cousin said, scanning the opening lines. “This—yeah, okay. That’s what this document is saying.” He looked at Jason. “No, I sure as hell didn’t know about this! And I can guarantee no one else in the family does either! Ned would have roasted their nuts for this!”

Some of the tightness eased in Jason’s chest. He hadn’t liked most of the family, but he’d understood them. The cousins. The sister. They’d all been nice. And the grandmother. He wouldn’t have minded calling them his, except they were connected to the father and the grandfather, and Jason didn’t want them.

“You didn’t know.”

“No. And neither did Lila or Emily. They never would have gone for this. Or kept it from you—” Justus hesitated. “Though considering we didn’t talk about Elizabeth, maybe you don’t believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Jason said. “It’s been three months, and no one said anything about her until yesterday. There was a letter and it had my name on it. Hers, too. Together.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Justus rubbed his jaw, then sat in the chair. “Yeah, well, it was kind of…it was a decision after a certain point. But not at first. I—” He set the paperwork down. “The first few days, you were in the ICU, you know? And we couldn’t get in. Visitors were limited, and when Emily didn’t hear from Elizabeth, she just figured Liz was living there. Camping out. And dealing with the family,” Justus muttered. “Which was never easy for her, but she would have done it. We didn’t know until you woke up that Elizabeth had never been allowed in the ward.”

Jason frowned. “Why didn’t she tell you? If she’d told you and the others—”

“We would have gone straight to Lila who would have shamed Edward,” Justus said immediately. “To the extent that Edward, Alan, or Monica ever accepted or tolerated Elizabeth, it was because of Lila. And Lila never would have allowed this. I know she seems sweet and gentle—and she is, but Lila rules with an iron fist. But, like I said, by the time we knew, you were awake and you didn’t remember anything. And things were bad. You seemed to hate any mention of before the accident.”

Jason made a face, sat down in the other chair, stared at his hands. ‘That’s still mostly true,” he said. “But—”

“Ned was worried, and I agreed—we talked about it first. We were both worried about Liz. I know you don’t like talking about before, but if you know about Elizabeth, then maybe you know…that she’s not the only, uh, family you had.”

“I know about…” Jason paused. “Cady. That’s…we called her Cady?”

“Yeah.” Justus smiled now, though it was sad. “I don’t want to get into all of it right now. But losing her pretty much decimated Liz, and she was only just kind of coming around, you know? No, you don’t know. Sorry.” He paused. “We were worried you’d be angry. That telling you that you’d been married, that you had a daughter—it would be like pressure. And you had enough of that. But you were lashing out in the beginning, Jason. At Emily, Lila—anyone who talked to you.”

“I—”

“And I’m not blaming you for that. I’m not. I can’t pretend to understand what was happening or what you were going through. I wouldn’t have the first clue. But Ned and I felt protective of Liz after everything she’d already been through, and then she told us that Alan had pretty much kept her out of the hospital—she didn’t tell Emily because she didn’t want to cause problems. I don’t know, I think we just…decided that it was better to leave it alone. Emily and Lila agreed—reluctantly. I don’t know if it was the right decision, Jason, and I’m sorry if you feel like it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said slowly. “I don’t know if there would have been a good time. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter now. I just wanted to hear it from you. I—” He looked back at the table. “Edward and Alan have this power that I didn’t give them. Control. I’ve been kicked out of places to live, lost jobs. I don’t even know how Luke or Sonny are going to keep them from doing the same now—” He grimaced. “And Elizabeth said it was her fault. That they started it to keep her away.”

“That would track,” Justus murmured, picking up the divorce papers. “They were furious when you didn’t make her sign a prenuptial agreement.” At Jason’s mystified look, Justus added, “a contract you sign before marriage. How to distribute property and money after a divorce. You didn’t have much except your trust fund, and you figured that wasn’t your money anyway. You’d use it because it was there, but it didn’t matter to you. But it mattered to Edward. He tried to force it through ELQ, and failed. You didn’t talk to him for three months.” Justus set the papers down again. “Anyway. A conservatorship isn’t easy to get — or it’s not supposed to be.”

“Can you get me out of it?”

“I don’t…I’d have to look at how it was structured. It’s…you’re fine. You shouldn’t be in one—” Justus furrowed his brow. “And how can they pursue a divorce…” He continued to sift through the folder. “Or an eviction?”

“An eviction?” Jason sat up. “What?”

“Elizabeth’s being evicted from the apartment, according to this—” Justus skimmed. “The conservatorship is petitioning to break the lease which they can do since it’s your name. And she’s technically your tenant. I’d have to look into that, but that doesn’t exactly feel right since she’s…huh…” Justus flipped to another document. “They closed your joint bank account?”

“That’s what Elizabeth said.” Jason leaned forward. “Why?”

“No, it’s just…that’s strange. You don’t have an income other than a quarterly allowance from the trust fund. You’ve been going to school,” Justus added. “But Elizabeth’s always been working. She makes good money at Luke’s—” He rifled through a few more documents, found the stack of bank statements. “Oh, good she brought you these. Yeah, look at December.” He tapped the paper. “I remember you telling me that you were putting the trust  funds away — it was tuition and big expenses, but you were mostly putting it into savings. Elizabeth was paying for the monthly stuff. The rent, the utilities — Luke and Sonny pay her a manager’s salary. A generous one, but she also cleans up in tips.”

Justus handed the paper to Jason. “Luke paid her through her maternity leave, and kept on paying her even after…in December, she didn’t work. But he paid her salary anyway. All the money coming into this account — it matches her income. Not the trust fund. But they closed it anyway and took the money.”

Jason’s stomach felt strange. There was a swirling ache that was uncomfortable and almost twisting. “They really…but she told me that I was taking care of the bills. That she wasn’t working.”

“No, these are her paychecks—” Justus showed him the entry. “See? Do you think she didn’t know Luke and Sonny were still paying her full wages? I mean, you handled the finances because you like numbers and she doesn’t. Maybe she really didn’t know. She just knew there was money in the account.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Jason looked at the statements. “She talked about Luke and Sonny offering to loan her money for lawyers, but she never said if she took it.” He had questions now, but the only person who could answer any of it was Elizabeth. “Will you help me sort it out?”

“Yeah. Yeah, this is diabolical. Can I take this stuff? I’ll go through it, get a better sense. I can get the case numbers, all of that.”

“Yeah. That’s fine. Whatever you want. I just…I want to be able to control my own life. And Elizabeth…I want them to leave her alone. I don’t—” She was the wife, Jason thought. Not his wife, but someone’s. And Alan and Edward were using Jason to make her miserable when she’d been trying to leave Jason alone. She hadn’t pressured him until he’d forced her to. They were trying to take her home the way they’d taken his place to live, too. And maybe they’d stolen her money. “Make them leave both of us alone.”

“I’ll do what I can, Jason. Let me look into this. Give me a day or two, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

+37

Written in 59 minutes.

He’d known, of course, that there had to be a good reason why he’d been fired from three jobs at the docks and turned out of at least two places to stay, despite having the money to pay. He’d had help from the cousin, Ned, in getting some money from the trust fund everyone always talked about to he could pay for Kelly’s, and the paychecks could pay for Jake’s. But both woman had turned him out, and at least two of the warehouses had just stopped putting him on the schedule after the first week.

He’d just thought it was the power of the Quartermaines — he’d heard enough about the family since being awake, had seen the way the doctors at the hospital deferred to them, but it had never occurred to Jason that there was more than that.

But now, holding a piece of paperwork that didn’t make any sense, Jason saw the last two and half months in a completely different light. If he’d been legally married prior to the accident, how could someone else petition for divorce? Or—

“I don’t understand,” Jason said after a long moment. He set the paperwork down, met Elizabeth’s nervous eyes. “How does that happen? What is a conservatorship?”

“I don’t—it’s so complicated, and they didn’t really—” She bent down again to tug another folder. “I went to the law library to see if I could find the statutes they wrote in that paper, but it still didn’t make sense. I printed it because I wanted to read it. As soon as I gave that to my lawyer — the one that did the power of attorney letter, they dropped my case.” Elizabeth slid papers across the small table, but Jason just shook his head. “You don’t…believe me?”

“I—” He didn’t know what to think, so he picked it up, but the print was small and the wording was complicated. Why did they always—”

The legislature hereby finds that the needs of persons with incapacities are as diverse and complex as they are unique to the individual…The determination of incapacity shall be based on clear and convincing evidence and shall consist of a determination that a person is likely to suffer harm..

“Does this mean they went to a court and said I was…” Incapacity. Damaged. Limited. His fingers tightened around the paper. “I’m not.” Or was he? A court should have evidence? Jason had ignored doctors who told him things, but—

“I was confused when I read that because it made it sound so…” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, then rubbed her arms. “Anyway. I was reading it, and it said you were supposed to have a representative at the court. Someone who isn’t one of the conservators, so I tried to get the records, but I was denied. It’s all under seal. I don’t know if the hearing was fair. I do know the Quartermaines have a lot of friends in high places. All I know is that Alan still have power of you as a person, with medical stuff, and Edward is over your estate. Um, the power to contract. You can’t…not legally…do anything without him.”

He set the paper down, dragged his hands through his hair. It made sense, a horrible sense, and he wondered how many people had been lying to him. How many people in that damn house had known about this? Had the grandmother, Lila, who had been so kind to him? The sister—

He had no doubts about Alan or Edward—

“It’s my fault,” Elizabeth said, drawing his attention back to her. “If I hadn’t pushed, you know. With the power of attorney. Maybe they would have been okay with cutting me out. If they’d known you’d wake up without your memories…maybe—” She stared down at the table, tracing a nick in the wood with her thumbnail. “But I did. I got a lawyer. I was just…desperate for answers, and they weren’t telling Emily or Ned anything because they thought I’d find out…and I just…I should have left it alone. But I made Edward mad. And they went to do this—”

She jerked her head at the folder he still hadn’t looked through. “The legal stuff is in all there. I didn’t…know what to do. There’s not a lot of lawyers who will take on the Quartermaines. Even though Luke and Sonny offered to loan me money — I thought about asking Ned, but what if he knows? What if he…” Her voice trembled. “They did it to you to get rid of me, you know? The first thing they did was close the bank accounts. I never touched your trust fund. At least I don’t think so. You used to put money in the account, and you were doing the bills because I was maternity leave, and then after the accident—” She shoved her hair from her face, combing her fingers through the strands. “I don’t know. I couldn’t do anything.”

Jason didn’t know what to say to any of this. It was a life he didn’t know or understand. But the trust fund — “They thought you wanted the money,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, um…I mean, there were a lot of reasons they didn’t like me. It wasn’t so bad when Emily and I were friends. At first, they thought maybe I was bad influence on her, but she kept being an honors student, so they let it go.” Elizabeth twisted a ring on her finger. “But you…you brought me a New Year’s Eve party last year and it was like I was a serial killer.” Her smile was faint. “I wasn’t good enough.”

“Why?” Jason shook his head. “What did they care?”

“Oh—” Elizabeth jerked a shoulder. “A lot of things. I’m a Webber, but I’m a shame to my family, especially if you ask my parents. I paid, like, zero attention in school, barely got to graduation. I was a waitress, and now I’m a bartender…nothing like my sister Sarah who they basically picked out for you—” She winced. “Anyway, it’s all….it just boils down to this. They think I’m a gold digger who got pregnant to trap you and get my hands on your trust fund, and their worst nightmare came true when you married me.” She smiled ruefully. “Alan offered me money to leave town, but I refused, and he’s always been angry he couldn’t get rid of me the way he did Nikki.”

“Nikki?” Jason echoed, bewildered. He’d lost track of the conversation entirely. “Who—”

“When we were still in high school, AJ was going to marry this girl. Nikki Langton. She probably was trying to get to AJ for the money, but Alan paid her to go away, and she went.” Elizabeth picked at her nails, looking away from him. “It was a little better when Cady was born. You know, Edward has his issues, but he really does love his family. He just…wants to control them, you know? He thinks he knows best. But…well, any chance of things getting better…”

Elizabeth dragged in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into all of that. Especially when I can’t…I can’t prove any of it, right? And that’s what you wanted. You wanted to make up your own mind. I thought maybe if you wanted someone to read through that or you know what you’re looking for now, you could…for yourself. Decide what you want. I mean, listen, the conservatorship was a horrible thing, I thought, but since the only thing Edward’s done with it is to get rid of me, maybe you don’t mind—”

“I got fired from my job because of it,” Jason said flatly, and she looked at him, her eyes wide. “Kicked out of Jake and Kelly’s. He wanted to force me back into that house. It’s not just about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t…Emily hasn’t told me much. I didn’t want to know,” Elizabeth confessed, her cheeks flushing and her eyes averting again. “And Luke and Sonny really just said people were being pressured, though I guess I knew it was part of this. I just…I know why it started, so I was blaming myself for all of it—” She closed her eyes. “Being selfish. Just like always. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She swiped at her cheeks, brushing away the few tears that had escaped. “Well, you know everything now. Or at least you know what I know. And you have access to anything else.”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to think or feel — it was all muddled and confusing again. There was still so much else he didn’t know — and maybe plenty he didn’t want to know. And he didn’t like how he kept making her cry.

“What else is in the bag?” Jason said finally, noticing that her tote wasn’t entirely empty. “You said I had everything.”

“Oh. I didn’t know what else to bring, so—” Elizabeth pulled out the last few files. “Um…I looked in your desk at the apartment, and I don’t know. There were financial things. The taxes from last year, and you were keeping a folder for this year, though I might need that back—” Her brow furrowed. “That’s next month, isn’t it? I don’t…there are bank statements. You never threw anything out. I thought you…might want to see for yourself about the trust funds. And you have the bank now, maybe you could ask for other accounts—there’s more stuff at the apartment—” She tapped the bottom file. “And this is college stuff. Um, you went to Stanford for undergrad, and you were in PCU for med school. I don’t know if you wanted it, but it was part of the story, and I just…”

There was too much on the table. Too much history he didn’t want, and now he regretted ever hinting he wanted to find out things for himself, because she’d actually listened and now there was too much. There was a life here, proof and evidence of everything that he’d never ever remember.

Jason shoved away from the table, and a few things fell to the floor. “I didn’t ask for all of this.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s face drained of color and she looked down at the table. “Oh. Right. I did…it’s…more than you asked for. You just asked about the hospital, and I’m sorry—I just I didn’t want to…” Her hands were shaking as she started to shove things back into the bag. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave anything out because people always do that and then I did too much. I just…you tell me what you want to keep and I’ll take the rest—”

“Just stop—” Jason held up his hands. “Stop. Okay? I don’t know. I don’t want any of this! I don’t know you, and I don’t know what any of this is! I don’t care how much paper you shove in front me, I’m not going to remember you!”

“I didn’t…” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then rose to her feet. “I wasn’t trying to make you remember,” she said, though her voice seemed steadier now. And now she was looking at him. “You know, there’s no manual or instructions for how to do this, okay? Unless you have one you want to share, I’m just trying to figure this out the same way you are! You aren’t the only person whose entire life ended three months ago, okay? You don’t remember anything, fine. But I do. And I’m doing my best. You tell me when to back off, and I’ll do that. But don’t yell at me for trying to give you what I thought you wanted.”

He fisted his hands at his side. She was right, of course she was, but there was all this pressure inside, this tightness, and he just wanted to hurt someone—he wanted it to go away— “I’m telling you to back off.”

“Then I’m backing off.” She yanked her purse up. “You keep the papers. Throw them out, burn them, I don’t care—”

And then she left, slamming the door so hard that it rattled in the frame. The room was silent now, the air was gone, and all that was left was the information she’d dumped on him.

Jason exhaled slowly, then crouched down to pick up what he’d knocked from the table — the first few things he’d looked at. The marriage certificate…and the baby book. He carried the book over to the bed, and sat down, cracking open the cover again.

On the first page, there was another copy of the birth certificate, pasted inside. He stopped to read it again. Cadence Audrey Quartermaine, born September 19, 1995 to Jason Morgan Quartermaine and Elizabeth Imogene Webber. Beneath the birth certificate, someone had written birthday twins! And then Jason remembered that he was supposed to be have been born on September 19, too.

There was more information about her birth — she’d been born at General Hospital at 9:25 AM. A Tuesday. She’d been six pounds and 13 ounces. A birth announcement that didn’t make any mention of her grandparents on either side, just of her parents.

A photograph under the page that said “My First Home” and Jason stopped to study it, to make the colors and lines and shapes make sense to him. They were standing on a street in front of a building — a brick one, he realized. Elizabeth’s face was pale, clean of any makeup, and she looked tired. He held the baby in his arms. She had almost no hair, and a yellow outfit.

There was a page of with a record of accomplishments — and most of it was blank. There was something so stark about it that sat with him. Makes known likes and dislikes – from birth. Follows movements with eyes – 5 weeks.

But there was nothing written next to recognizes mother and father or laughs aloud. The following pages were blank, too. First Christmas. First Birthday. It was empty.

It was a book meant for a long-lived life, with pages for weddings and school and jobs — but they were snow white. Empty. Nothing had been written on them. And nothing ever would.

He thought about that picture of himself standing in front of a building with a baby who hadn’t lived long enough to recognize her parents or even to laugh. He didn’t know yet exactly when this baby had died, only that it had been sometime in November. And then Jason gotten into the car just after Christmas.

He’d woken up into a world with nothing in it — no memories, no recognition of anyone he was supposed to know. And maybe for the first time, Jason could see there was a silver lining in that. He didn’t remember this baby, and wouldn’t have to live with that memory.

But now there was a heaviness hanging over him. Because he didn’t remember this baby. And there was a paper that said he’d been her father.  Photographs that proved he’d cared about her, about her mother.

And that mother had buried her child and lost her husband weeks later.

Jason closed the book, set it aside, and returned to the table stacked with documents and folders. She’d done too much, he thought, but she was the only person who had actually listened to him. Had heard what maybe he hadn’t understood either. That he needed to know these facts for himself —

How could he complain now because he had too many facts to digest?

Jason went to the plastic phone on the night stand. He wanted to know exactly how much the Quartermaines had known and he needed someone who could explain these legal papers to him—

And there weren’t that many people who could do both.

“Justus? Hey. Uh, you said if I ever needed anything—”

Note: I pulled my own baby book from the shelf in my office and used my own information, lol, for some of the milestones, and the page content.

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