4 – exile

This entry is part 4 of 17 in the folklore


1
I can see you standing, honey
With his arms around your body
Laughin’, but the joke’s not funny at all

When the door slammed behind Elizabeth, Jason had stared at it for a long time, willing it to be different. For this to be a waking nightmare, for her to come back, for himself to run after, to stop her.

But he did none of those things. Instead, he’d climbed the stairs to the second floor, looked down the small stretch of hallway with four doors. The bathroom, two guest rooms, a master bedroom. They were empty now, he thought.

He walked like a zombie to the room at the end of the hall — not the master, he’d given that to Elizabeth — but the smaller room he’d taken for himself, one not much larger than Jake’s.  He stripped his clothes and shoes as he walked across the thick carpet, falling into bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.

Waiting for the world to finally stop.

But sleep had never come. The world had slowly turned towards the sun, the streaks of colors  more than visible in this room without curtains or blinds. Colors that Elizabeth could have described for him in vivid detail, with names for the specific shades of purple, pink, and gold.

But they’d never seen a sunrise together, not in this room or any other.

He rose from bed, the grit of sleepless nights in his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of clothes that hadn’t been on the dresser when he’d stopped in the night before. Two pairs of blue jeans, three shirts, white socks rolled up into balls, and two pairs of briefs.

She’d done his laundry, Jason thought. He’d never thought about it — the clean clothes that had appeared in his dresser for months. There’d been no time to spare for logistics. He hadn’t questioned the clean clothes, the pot of coffee that always seemed to be ready, the covered plates in the oven.

Jason stood, pulled on his clothes, tied the laces on the boots, and left the rest of the laundry on his dresser. He knew where he’d find her — he’d memorized the schedule the guard had given him, needing to know where she was at every minute, to be sure that one piece of his world was in order. That she was safe.

He stopped in the courtyard, looked through the glass window panes, watched her behind the counter. Had she slept? Were there regrets now in her mind? If he went inside—

But before the thought could form, a familiar form appeared, taking a stool. Blocking Elizabeth from his view. Lucky Spencer.

He waited another moment, waited for Lucky to leave, to move, for just one more glimpse of her, for a sign that she wanted him to come in. That she didn’t mean what she’d said—

Lucky shifted slightly, just enough for Elizabeth’s eyes to drift away from him. To the door.

To Jason.

2
And it took you five whole minutes
To pack us up and leave me with it
Holdin’ all this love out here in the hall

He was here. The fingers clutching the ceramic mug trembled, then tightened to keep her grip. He was here. Standing in the courtyard. Looking at her. Did he want to come in? Did he miss her? Was he sorry? Was she sorry? Did any of it matter? Oh, what would she say if he came in—

“Elizabeth. E-liz-a-beth.”

Elizabeth dragged her eyes away just for a moment to look at her ex-boyfriend, her brows drawing together at the familiar whine in his tone, the irritating way he drew out the syllables of her name. “What?”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Elizabeth looked back to the courtyard and swallowed hard. Jason was gone. Gone. Like all the empty, lonely nights she’d spent in his penthouse, waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to let her look after him, to be with him—it was all gone.

“Elizabeth?” This time Lucky’s voice wasn’t as impatient. He twisted on the stool, followed her gaze. “What am I missing?”

Everything. Nothing.

She drew in a shaky breath. “Never mind. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Well, of course not. Not with all that news about Sonny and Jason.” His mouth pinched. “You didn’t know. I knew as soon as I saw the breaking news — I knew he’d lied to you. I tried to—”

“Don’t. I don’t—I don’t want an ‘I told you so’ today. You said you wanted something. What?”

“Oh. Well, I need to track down my dad, and I thought you might have some ideas—”

Lucky’s voice drifted and she couldn’t focus. Couldn’t absorb any of it. She’d walked out on Jason the night before, had packed her things in a red haze of rage, humiliated, furious—

She’d been in Jason’s room when she’d learned the news. Standing there, her hands clutched around a stack of clean clothes, wondering if she’d see him that night—

And Zander had rushed in, eyes wild, babbling about Sonny being alive, and why hadn’t she said anything? Why didn’t she tell him the truth—

Doing his laundry, cooking, and cleaning for him like a stupid girl, Elizabeth thought. And he’d been lying. Lying for weeks and days and hours and minutes. Spending time with everyone but her. Ignorant little girl.

“Elizabeth? Will you help?”

She tuned back in, then shook her head. “I don’t think I can do anything today, Lucky. I’m just…I’m tired. Maybe some other time.”

3
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending

He’d memorized her schedule at Kelly’s months ago. She opened three days a week, and closed two. And today, she had opened.

It had taken more courage that he’d thought to pull the door open just fifteen minutes before she usually cashed out, and Jason wasn’t sure what it said about him that he’d rather face gunfire that the look in her eyes again. That brief moment this morning—

But nothing would be fixed if he avoided her, and he wanted to fix this. To know what she’d meant by he’d ruined everything—how could he have done that with just one lie? Was that all he’d get?

There was another waitress behind the counter when he entered the diner, and Jason thought for a moment that he’d made a mistake. But no, there was Elizabeth now, stepping in from the kitchen, still facing the inside of the small room, talking to the cook.

“I’m going to cash out—” Elizabeth’s profile turned towards him as she spoke, the words faltering when she saw him at the counter, sitting on the stool. She swallowed hard, her hands fluttering to the top edge of her apron. Their eyes held for a moment, before she broke the contact. “I’m going to cash out now,” she said to the waitress. “Is that okay?”

The waitress—her name started with a P, Jason thought—darted quick glances back and forth between Jason and Elizabeth. “Sure, Liz.”

This was the moment, he thought. He straightened. He’d ask to give her a ride. Just like always. He’d find a way to fix it—

“Elizabeth, great, you’re still here.”

Her head whipped around at the voice from the kitchen. Lucky came in, a bit breathless. “I need your help,” he said.”

“I already told you—”

“But it’s an emergency. There’s no one else I can call—”

Jason sighed, slid off the stool, and left the diner. He didn’t want to know who she’d choose. How many times had it been Lucky? He didn’t think he could do it one more time.

Not today.

4
You’re not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?

Elizabeth heard the bell over the door ring, and she knew what she’d find even before she turned around. Jason was in the courtyard, already heading towards the piers. Tears burned. Why had he had come in, looked at her like that, and left?

Why did he always walk away from her? No. That was me last night, she thought. I walked away, and barely let him speak. And now I’m surprised he doesn’t want to wait around?

“I said it’s an emergency—”

“Call Sarah,” Elizabeth snapped, glaring at Lucky. “Or Nikolas. Or Gia. Your aunt. Go talk to your sister. You probably haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Just stop.” She put her hands up. “Stop. You didn’t bother me for two months, Lucky. Why are you suddenly everywhere I look today?”

Lucky made a face. “Nikolas and Gia aren’t going to help me find my dad. Okay? And Lulu needs him. I just need to get Dad home, and figure things out from there. Just hear me out.”

“Not today. Just—not today.” She yanked her purse out from under the counter, and headed for the door.

But by the time she reached the courtyard, Jason was nowhere to be seen. He could have gone to the warehouse, in the early stages of being rebuilt. He could have gone home.

He could have gone a thousand places, and she’d have no reason to know where.

Elizabeth pressed the heel of her palm against her eyes, took a deep breath, then went towards her studio. She needed to sleep. To take a deep breath.

It would all be different tomorrow.

5
You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
I think I’ve seen this film before

Sonny swirled the bourbon in the glass. “Source at the hospital says Alcazar won’t be released for another week, so that buys us a little time to figure things out. I know you hated all the lying—”

“What are we trying to figure out?” Jason interrupted, not interested in hearing Sonny justify himself again. The choice had been made, and he’d followed orders. He hadn’t pushed hard enough to bring Elizabeth into the secret, and that was on him. “He’s in the hospital. Make a call, Sonny. Get it over with.”

“He’s being protected by the government—they need his contacts in South America.” Sonny sighed, scratched his temple. “So we need to make sure Brenda’s secured. You need to talk to her—”

“I’m done talking to Brenda for you,” Jason cut in, and Sonny just looked at him. “Deal with her yourself.”

“Jase—”

“And while you’re at it, find someone else to deal with your sister. I don’t have the time to handle my job and her security.”

“Seems to me your schedule just opened up,” Sonny said almost dryly.

“What does that mean?”

“Uh, Wally on the front desk. Said Elizabeth left last night. With her suitcase. She mad about what happened?”

“What do you think?” Jason bit out, his shoulders tense. “I don’t want to talk about it—”

“Well, if it’s going to distract you—”

“Distract me,” Jason echoed, then shook his head. “Carly walking out on you, would that be distracting?”

“Carly’s my wife, Jase. There’s a difference.”

“No, there’s not. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He yanked the door open and left before Sonny could say something else that made Jason want to put his fist through a wall.

6
I can see you starin’, honey
Like he’s just your understudy
Like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me

She could have called him. If she really wanted to talk to him—

If he really wanted to talk to her—

Either one of them could have simply dialed a number and been connected in minutes. But her phone remained quiet in her hand, nothing coming.

Or going out.

“There you are.” Lucky jogged down the last few steps of the docks steps, bounded over to the bench where she was sitting. “Mike said you just left—”

Elizabeth sighed, tipped her head back, closed her eyes. Two days. He’d given her two days, she thought. The time and space she’d asked for her.

She only wished it had been enough.

“I’ve got a lead on my dad,” Lucky was saying when she looked at him, focused on what he was actually saying. “I think maybe he got picked up in Alabama. Or someone with the same alias.” He paused. “Are you listening?”

She was trying to, but a crane further along the waterfront had swung into action, drawing her attention. Lucky followed her gaze.

“They’re rebuilding again? You’d think they’d take the hint.” He looked back. “You talk to him yet?”

“No.”  She looked down again at the phone. Silence. “No.”

“If he was really sorry, he’d have found you. Said something.”

He’d tried to, hadn’t he? Or had he just been at Kelly’s. Was he at the warehouse now, overseeing the rebuild? Out on the bike? Doing a job? Guarding Courtney or Brenda? What was he doing?

Was he thinking of her?

“What did you say about your dad?” Elizabeth asked. “Something about Alabama?”

7
Second, third, and hundredth chances
Balancin’ on breaking branches
Those eyes add insult to injury

She wasn’t behind the counter. Jason peered through the windows, waiting for her to appear from the kitchen or from a corner of the diner not visible to him. She was supposed to open today, which meant her shift should be ending soon.

But that was the last time he’d talked to her about her schedule. Had it changed?

Jason pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts until he found her name on the speed dial. One button. If he had held it down, he could find out for sure where she was. What she was doing.

He could call the guard that still followed her to and from work. Jason didn’t ask for reports, he never had. The man was just there to keep her safe. Not to report back. But he’d wanted to, Jason thought. He’d wanted to ask if she was all right.

But it’d be cheating to ask someone else. He wouldn’t have a reason to talk to her, to look at her.

He looked towards the docks, where her building would be visible. Was she there? It would be getting cold soon. Was her studio heating better than the winter he’d stayed there? Or worse. He could go there. Find her. Talk to her.

He could call her.

But the phone went back in his pocket, and he turned to leave the courtyard.

Then someone called his name.

8
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending

Elizabeth rubbed her arms absently as she walked along Elm Street, closing the distance between the pier and the parking lot at Kelly’s. It was chillier than yesterday, and she should have grabbed a sweater or a jacket.

She had switched shifts with Penny, not wanting the quiet of the opening crowd or the impatience of the breakfast rush, and tips were better at lunch. And maybe Jason was more likely to stop in during the middle of the day.

She turned the corner into the courtyard, stopping when she saw the door half open, and Jason in the entrance. Her heartbeat picked up.

She could do it today. Just talk to him. Say hello. Something. Maybe even smile at him so he’d know it was safe to talk to her.

She wasn’t even angry anymore. Just sad. Lonely. Irritated with both of them for that night in the penthouse. She hadn’t give him a chance to speak — but he hadn’t stopped her.

What had happened to that old, easy comfort before them? The ability to say anything to each other without fear?

She opened her mouth, her lips already forming his name—and then someone else darted out of the diner in front him. A streak of golden blonde hair.

“Thanks so much!” Courtney said, turning back to the doorway. “For walking me home, I mean. I guess I’m just a little nervous with everything going on.”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, though maybe Elizabeth was imagining the reluctance in his tone.

“Oh, hey, Liz!”

Jason turned, saw her, his hand sliding down from the door. Their eyes met.

9
I’m not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?

“I didn’t think you were working today!” Courtney said, her eyes overly bright, darting back and forth between them. “Penny asked me to open for her.”

“I switched with her,” Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat. “Jason. Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, the word almost a rush of breath. She’d looked at him, spoken. That was good? It was a sign, wasn’t it? “I…was looking for you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly—was he imagining that maybe it was a smile? “Oh—”

“Well, now you know she’s working this shift,” Courtney said, drawing both their attention. “Jason’s going to walk me home. You know, with AJ still in DC, and what happened on the docks a few weeks ago.”

Elizabeth’s eyes dropped, and she looked away. His stomach tightened. Of course Elizabeth remembered, he thought. It had been the last time they’d seen each other before that terrible night. When she’d seen Courtney’s lipstick on him, and she’d looked at him with those sad eyes.

“I should get inside,” Elizabeth said, taking a small step towards the diner, one hand stretching out for the door. She was close, Jason thought. Too close. He should move, but he couldn’t.

Instead he held the door open for her, but stayed where he was, forcing her to duck slightly under his arm, her arm brushing against his chin, close enough that he could smell the tart citrus of her shampoo. It was almost physically painful, he thought, to be this close to her, and not touch.

He just wanted to hold her. To tell her he was sorry, that he wanted to fix this—

“We’d better go,” Courtney said, forcing him to look at her. To remember that she existed. Jason exhaled slowly. There was nothing he could do right now. Elizabeth was working, and there was no time for conversation.

He’d come back though. She’d looked at him, had almost smiled.

He’d hold on to that until he could come back.

10
You were my crown
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out

She never stopped talking. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d noticed that before, or if now everything Courtney did irritated him. If she hadn’t asked him for the walk, would he have seen Elizabeth before her shift? Would there have been time for something more than a few words?

“I really shouldn’t have reminded Elizabeth about the docks,” Courtney chirped drawing his attention.

“What?”

“The night I got mugged on the docks. She talked to me the next day.” Courtney paused at the curb, glanced both ways for cars, then continued across the street. Jason reluctantly followed. “I don’t know what you said, but she thought I’d been hurt or that I was really upset, and I wasn’t—I told her that. But I was really grateful you were there.”

Jason grimaced, muttered his irritation beneath his breath. “Yeah, it’s fine. Listen—”

“You guys are going to fix this, you know. Just apologize. I’m not mad anymore about Sonny lying to me,” Courtney said. She stopped at the door to her building, turning wide blue eyes on him. “And he’s my brother! If I could forgive you and Sonny for lying about my own family, Elizabeth can get over this.”

“It’s not—”

“I mean, it’s not like you guys were serious,” Courtney continued. “She was dating Zander Smith like a month ago, right?”

Jason clenched his jaw, looked away. “Here’s your building. I have to go.”

“You’re not going to walk me up—”

“No. Call Sonny. Get a guard.” Or a dog. Or a friend, Jason thought, almost bitterly, heading back to Kelly’s where he’d left his bike.

He wouldn’t be able to talk to Elizabeth until closing, so he’d have to distract himself somehow.

11
I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Elizabeth set the tub of dirty dishes down behind the counter, frowned at Lucky. “What?”

“Alabama,” Lucky said. “We talked about it this morning.” He furrowed his brow. “You haven’t been listening to me at all have you?”

“Sometimes.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Lucky. I’m not being a very good friend right now.”

“No, but it’s okay.” He twisted off the end of a straw wrapper. “I haven’t been a good friend to you, either. You think it’s too late for us to do that? Be friends?”

“Maybe.”

Lucky made a face. “I don’t want it to be. So, okay, I’m going to sit here, put on my supportive face,  and you tell me everything about Jason. I promise I won’t say one word about why you’re better off.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I’m not doing that. Go back for Alabama. I’ll be fine.” Somehow, she thought, she’d made that the truth.

12

So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you

The hours crawled by. The minutes, the seconds, all of it felt three times as long as any other day. She’d looked at him, said his name. Had almost smiled.

That had to mean she was ready to listen to him didn’t it?

He went to the closet, to take down the lock box with his gun. It didn’t matter if Alcazar was in the hospital, or there were no other threats — he never left the penthouse without it. But when he reached for the lock box on the shelf, something caught his eye on the closet floor.

A jacket. Elizabeth’s. He left the box on the shelf, crouched down to pick it up, his fingers sliding over the leather.

He’d bought this for her that Christmas, Jason thought, absently walking towards the desk. She’d worn it that night in her studio, when he’d kissed her. When she’d kissed him.

When everything had seemed so much easier. Before it had gone wrong. And now here they were, further apart than ever.

“Knock, knock—” Carly pushed the door open. “Hey. Sonny wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner—” She straightened. “What’s that?”

“What?”

“You’re holding—what’s that? A jacket? It’s too small to be yours.” She came inside. “It’s Elizabeth’s, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. She must have…” Been in a hurry to leave, he thought, grimacing.  “She left it,” he muttered, tossing it on the desk, bracing himself for whatever Carly would say next.

But Carly bit her lip, sighed. “I felt bad, you know. I almost told her the truth.”

Jason frowned, met her eyes. “What?”

“She cleaned up the penthouse after the funeral. Made me brownies.” A smile flitted across her face. “It was nice of her, you know? And I thought I’d enjoy having a secret from her but I couldn’t. She was so worried about you all the time. Waiting for you to come home.” Carly folded her arms. “I didn’t get to enjoy it at all. I told her you’d explain everything when you saw her, but—”

“I didn’t see her much,” Jason murmured. “I avoided her.”

“I thought so. You know, when Sonny told me she’d left, I thought I’d feel relieved. You know? You deserve so much, Jason. Someone who loves you. And I still don’t know if that person is Elizabeth—”

“Carly—”

“I just wish we’d told her.”

“Yeah.” He looked at the jacket. “So do I.”

13
All this time
We always walked a very thin line

Elizabeth smiled faintly at Don. “No, you go ahead, I’ll finish locking up.”

“You sure?” The cook hesitated, his hand on the door to the alley. “You cool with being alone?”

“I’m not really.” She gestured to the courtyard where a man in a suit was standing.  The guard didn’t make himself visible unless she was closing, and she appreciated that small touch. And that Jason hadn’t pulled the guard after she’d left.

“Ah. Well, then you have a good night, Liz.”

Elizabeth went back into the diner, glancing to the courtyard a few times as she cleaned up the diner. Would Jason come back? What would she say if he did?

He’d come looking for her, which was more than she’d did, though she’d done her share of chasing in August, she reminded herself.

Then, of course, she’d been trying to convince him that Zander was a terrible mistake. One she’d give anything to take back, so maybe it was fair that she’d  been doing the chasing then. Zander. One of her many, terrible mistakes Elizabeth thought. All the times she’d taken Lucky’s side, even when she’d known Jason wouldn’t have attacked first.

But she’d truly thought she’d known Lucky wouldn’t either. How were you supposed to choose  between two people who had never lied to her?

She bit her lip. What would she say if he came to her? What was the point? She’d forgive him, and then do something else to prove she was an awful person who didn’t deserve him.

Oh, God, why had she walked out like that? What was wrong with her?

14
You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

He’d faced gunfire and bombs, and yet his pulse skittered approaching the courtyard.  The diner had officially closed a few minutes earlier.  Jason saw the guard assigned to her in the corner, though he didn’t speak to him. The tables and chairs had already been stacked, and inside the diner, there was just one lone diner lingering over a cup of coffee.

And it wasn’t Lucky.

Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen, smiled at the customer, and set down a bill. Her lips kept moving, and then a moment later, the customer stood and headed for the door.

Her eyes followed the patron as he left, then found his gaze. She smiled tremulously, and he took that as encouragement.

Jason caught the door when the customer left, and went inside.

15
All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)

“Um, hey.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands against the green apron. The door behind Jason swung closed, the bells jingling.  “You came back.” She hadn’t been sure if he would.

Or why he’d bother.

“Yeah.” His eyes drifted to the stairs. “Is anyone else around?”

“No. No. Um, Lucky’s the only one renting a room right now, and he left for Alabama.” She rubbed her shoulder. “Something about Luke. I wasn’t really listening.” She cleared her throat. “Did you want some coffee or something?”

“No.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and she realized that this is where it would end. Neither of them knowing what to say. Maybe there was nothing left. Maybe she’d finally ruined everything.

16
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
So many signs, so many signs
You didn’t even see the signs

Lucky was gone. Courtney was at her apartment as far as he knew. Carly and Sonny tucked away in their penthouse, Alcazar in the hospital, and Zander having taken off — not that Jason gave a damn.

It just meant there was no one to interrupt. And now he realized he’d never thought that would happen. That there would always be a reason to avoid this.

Did he start with an apology? Would that make her happy?

He opened his mouth, because he was sorry of course. The lie hadn’t been what he’d wanted.

But instead he asked something else.

“Did you mean it?”

Her lips parted, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she squinted. “What?”

“You said I ruined everything. Did you mean it?”

17

I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
You’re not my homeland anymore

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, all of the energy draining from her with one question —  did she mean it?

She dragged out a chair, sat down, and put her head in her hands, dragging them through her hair. “No,” she said softly, staring at the wood grain. “No, but maybe I ruined it.”

She heard the scrape of the chair against the floor, and in her field of vision, she could see the blue shirt he wore, the warm tone to his skin as he folded his arms on the table. But she couldn’t look up.

“I don’t understand.”

The smile that curved her lips now wasn’t a happy one, and she finally looked up, found his eyes. “Sure you do. You were here this summer. Last year. How many ways did I ruin it?”

He winced, looked away. “We don’t have to talk about that—”

“Yeah, I think we do.” She straightened, but reached for the napkin dispenser. She needed something to do with her fingers, something to concentrate on. “I was angry when I left. And now I’m feeling like I don’t have the right to be angry. That I should forgive you because it’s what you do for me. You always forgive me. And I never deserve it—”

“You get to be angry—” he started.

“Really? You don’t feel even the least bit furious with me for never giving you the benefit of the doubt?” Elizabeth asked, and she saw the way he dropped his eyes, looked away. “I hurt you, Jason. You made that clear to me in a thousand ways, and I still kept pushing. And I’m surprised because you didn’t trust me enough to tell the truth about Sonny? You probably thought I’d tell Zander or something—”

“I never—that’s not why I didn’t tell you—”

“I don’t need to know why anymore. I don’t. I just need—” She sighed, looked away. “I need to turn back time,” she murmured. “But that’s not on the table. So what I need is for you to admit it. I hurt you, and I ruined things long before the other night. I need you to tell me the truth.”

18
So what am I defending now?
You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out

There was no easy solution to any of this, Jason realized. An apology wouldn’t work. Not from him, or from her. And they wouldn’t be able to talk around the problem they had a month earlier, when he’d skirted their past knowing he was about to launch a huge lie that she’d be angry about.

“Last year,” Jason began, then paused, because he didn’t even know what to say. “I was angry. And hurt. When I left. After the park.” She closed her eyes, her fingers clenching into fists on the table. “But after I was gone, I could look back and understand it better. Distance helped. I understand what happened then. It was Lucky. Robin and I stayed together too long, too.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t know how to do it. To—let go of a dream. And I didn’t realize that you could be present every day in a relationship, and not realize you’d stopped loving someone. I didn’t know how wrong it all was until you were there.” She swiped at her cheek, looked away. “I didn’t know you could love two people at once. I always thought people were lying about that kind of thing.”

His chest tightened as her words settled in. “Elizabeth—”

“But this year. This year, I screwed up. I screwed up so bad. And I keep rewinding it like a movie in my head, and I’m screaming at myself to stop it. And I can’t ever fix it.”

Jason really didn’t want to talk about any of it. He just wanted to say he was sorry, find a way to make her smile, and maybe she’d go on a ride— but if they didn’t talk about it, it would come back to haunt them. Just like Lucky still lingered.

“Yeah,  it hurt,” he said finally, and she looked at him. “I didn’t know where I stood with you. At any point. With Lucky, I could understand it. But Zander? No, I don’t understand it. I don’t think I ever will.”

19
I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door

She’d known that, of course. She’d known it since that terrible day in her studio, when she’d been angry at herself, and pulled open the door, and her world had crumbled—

And everything she’d tried to do to fix it had been built on a broken foundation.

“I—I wish I could give you an answer that would fix it,” Elizabeth said finally. She continued to shred the napkin. “I wish I could say it was a mistake, and leave it at that, but I just…I don’t know. It started with the blackout. I, um, was upset. And scared, and he was there, and I don’t think I thought that would ever happen. And it did. And I can’t explain it. That feels like a copout, I know, but I just—” She exhaled on a shaky breath. “I never wanted you to know. So the fact that you did. And you saw it, and I feel dirty and disgusting—”

“Hey.” Jason reached across the table, laid one hand over both of hers, stilling the napkin ripping. Her eyes flew to his. “You made a mistake. You regret it. That’s enough for me.”

“But I hurt you—”

“I hurt you more—”

“It’s not a contest,” he said gently, and her cheeks flooded, the tears sliding down leaving trails of cool air against her skin. “You hurt me, okay. You’re sorry, aren’t you?”

20
So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you

She was crying, and he’d never wanted that. Never wanted her to feel low or ashamed of what she’d done. He reached across the table with his other hand, taking her fists in his, gently uncurling them.

“I’ve made mistakes, too,” he reminded her, and she sighed, looked away. “Robin and Carly. You know about that. You were friends with Emily when that was going on.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I moved Carly into the cottage,” Jason reminded her, and Elizabeth nodded. “I knew Robin and Carly hated each other. And I knew Carly had feelings for me. I just wanted Michael. I was selfish, and I didn’t think about how much I hurt Robin. Until it was too late to fix it. I’d rather have cut my arm off than hurt her like that, and I did it anyway.”

Her smile was thin. “It’s like you’re standing outside of yourself, you know? And it makes sense to you in the minute, but then five minutes later, you’re screaming because it’s all wrong.  ”

“I can’t even claim that I knew five minutes later. It’s taken years for me to see what I did. I was so angry with Robin when she told AJ about Michael. But now I see I asked her to live a lie. Michael was conceived when Robin and I were together. People thought I’d cheated on her. And she handled that. She forgave me. And she stood by me. I didn’t deserve it.”

“She loved you,” Elizabeth murmured. “And she knew you loved Michael.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you about Sonny,” Jason said, and now the apology felt genuine. “It wasn’t a test or a punishment. As awful as both those options are, the truth is worse.”

 

21
All this time
We always walked a very thin line
You didn’t even hear me out (didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

“It’s okay. Whatever it is,” Elizabeth said, with a quick shake of her head. “I should have let you explain—”

“And maybe I wouldn’t have come up with anything better than what I said the other night. Which wasn’t true. You were right. You were part of this. Alcazar knows you matter to me. That you’re important. He shot at you. But Sonny said no. And I didn’t push him. I didn’t argue.”

“Sonny said no,” Elizabeth echoed, searching his eyes. “So you asked.”

“Yeah. We didn’t have a lot of time to deal with the details. Carly had to know, but she was it. And I had to push on that,” Jason admitted. “After that, Sonny didn’t want to hear about anything else.”

“You made sure Carly knew. That’s good. I’m glad. I’m glad she wasn’t really—that was the right choice.”

“It was?” Jason said, almost skeptically. “I chose Carly over you—”

“Sonny and Carly are married. I can’t believe he ever thought about not telling her. That’s awful. If you’d been faking your death, and chose to tell Carly and not me, well, okay—” She shrugged. “Then we’d have a problem. But if there was only time to have one argument? I’m okay with it being her.”

“Oh.” He sat back, clearly bewildered. “I—I’m still sorry. And Carly. She told me she wishes she’d told you.”

She looked down at his hands again, still holding hers. So that was that, she thought. Lucky and Zander dealt with. The lies about Sonny.

The air was cleared.

Then why did it feel so unfinished?

22
All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

His thumb stroked over her knuckles, back and forth. Had they broken open all the wounds? Was it all done and over with? Why didn’t he feel like they were on the other side of all this?

“The docks,” he found himself saying. Their eyes met again. “Courtney.”

She started to shake her head. “No—”

“Sonny sent me to look after her. I don’t know why, and I told him it had to be done. I don’t have time to worry about his sister. I don’t even like her. As a person,” he added, and she smiled hesitantly. “That night, I was angry. I wanted to go home to see you. But I knew I’d have to lie. And I didn’t want to. I tried not to be alone with you because you’d want to take care of me—” Jason winced. That sounded so arrogant. “I mean—”

“I absolutely wanted to take care of you. I thought your best friend was dead. You were grieving, and for all I knew, out searching for his killer. And I wondered if you got hurt, would anyone even remember to tell me?”

He closed his eyes, grimaced. Damn it. “Elizabeth—”

“And it hurt that you were avoiding me. And I couldn’t understand why because I’d thought, God, I thought we’d already settled all of this. But you weren’t there. And you were always with her, and I think I knew deep down that I hadn’t really apologized or fixed what I broke—”

“Elizabeth—”

“And I got jealous, and frustrated. And I didn’t know how to tell you about any of that because how selfish would it have been to explode all of that insanity on you when you were grieving?”

“Damn it,” he muttered. He drew back one of his hands to scrub it down one cheek, then took her hand again. “I’m sorry. I really am—”

“I’m sorry, too. Because I ran. We could have had this fight days ago. And maybe I’d be able to sleep.” Her smile was hesitant. “I haven’t really slept in weeks. I don’t know about you.”

“No. No, I haven’t either.” Longer than a few weeks, he thought, though there were a few nights when she’d first stayed at the penthouse, when he’d been able to catch a few hours because she was safe down the hall.

“So I’m sorry, and you’re sorry,” Elizabeth said slowly, “why does it feel like this doesn’t fix anything? Like there’s still this weight on my shoulders I can’t lift.” Tears shimmered again, clinging to her lashes. “Is it too late?”

23
All this time (so many signs)
I never learned to read your mind (so many signs)
I couldn’t turn things around (I couldn’t turn things around)

What would she do if he said yes? If he thought maybe it was best they stayed friends, or worse, if he said it was just too much? Could she change his mind? Did she even have the right to?

“A few days ago, when you’d left,” Jason said, his words halting, painful, “I thought maybe it was for the best. For the last few months, it’s just been—”

“One terrible thing after another,” she muttered. “I know. I know. I started it. I know I did. It would all be different if I could have just—” Done what? “Thrown your phone into the damn harbor.”

Instead of looking annoyed at that, his smile was genuine, and quick, and it lightened that weight just a little. “Yeah, maybe I could have accidentally ran over it,” he admitted. “Or told Carly and Sonny to fix their own problems.”

Remembering it had been Carly’s call that day of the blackout—that he’d left for her — Elizabeth nodded. How different everything could have been, she thought.

“So we’re both sorry,” she said again, “but being sorry is only part of it. We have to forgive each other. I, um, I don’t know that I have as much to forgive. I mean, I was angry about Sonny, but you explained your side, and I’m okay with that. But can you forgive me?”

24
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (you never gave a warning sign)

She was right. Offering apologies wouldn’t do any good if they weren’t accepted. And could he honestly accept her apology this time and let go of the swirl of hurt that he’d let fester so deep he hadn’t realized it until she’d pried it out of him. Had that been part of his anxiety and uncertainty in approaching her? Had he avoided her thinking she might have truly decided to give up on him? Or that he’d have to admit how hurt he’d been—

“That night in your studio, when we kissed,” Jason said, and her cheeks pinked up. “If I had come over the next day and kissed you again, would that have changed things?”

She tipped her head. “What?”

“Or after the crypt. When you came home, and I was showing you how to swing the bat, I wanted to kiss you that day. Every day,” Jason continued. “I should have told you how scared I was when you were missing. When I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you. If I’d told you I loved you, would that have changed things?”

She stared at him, her lips parted, her hands going slack in his, and he thought maybe he’d gone too far.

“What if I told you,” Elizabeth said, “that day you bought me the baseball bat, I wanted you to kiss me. And that I wasn’t trying very hard to learn because I liked your arms around me. Would you have kissed me?” Her voice faltered. “Would you have stayed?” She smiled tremulously. “What if I’d told you I loved you? I don’t know if you can believe that—”

Jason shoved back his chair, and she was startled into silence. He never let go of their hands, using them to drag her up from the chair and into his arms, kissing her the way he had that night in the studio, all the pent up frustration and want and desire spilling out—

Elizabeth dropped her hands to dive into his hair, her nails scraping against the hairline at his neck. He yanked her hard against him, and she gasped, sucking in air, his mouth trailing down her jawline.

Their foreheads rested against each other, their mingled breath heavy, warm against their skin.  “If you’d told me that,” Jason murmured, “I’d never have left.”

“Then I’ll say it every day. I should have said it every day since you came back.” Her fingers curled into the collar as his shirt, her eyes searching his. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

“We won’t. We won’t,” he promised her, dropping his head into the crook of her shoulder, the feel of her in his arms. All the words they’d left unsaid — how close they’d come to just walking away. “We won’t,” Jason promised against, cupping her face, brushing his lips against hers once, twice, softly, but she used her grip on his shirt to bring him in again for another long, lazy kiss.

“Can we go home?” she asked, tremulously.

“Yeah,” he managed, his voice almost inaudible, reverent as he kissed her again—he couldn’t stop himself, sliding the tips of fingers through her hair, down her soft skin. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

You never gave a warning sign


Comments

  • Whew, I love how it ended with let’s go home.

    According to Becca on March 3, 2024
  • Perfect!

    According to Jill on March 3, 2024
  • that was sooooo good. loved it

    According to PAMELA HEDSTROM on March 3, 2024
  • Finished it with tears spilling…so beautiful

    According to Kristi on March 3, 2024
  • Yes lets go home perfect

    According to leasmom on March 4, 2024
  • Loved it

    According to Carla P on March 7, 2024
  • Our couple makes me crazy. At least, they’re going home together. This is so good!!

    According to arcoiris0502 on March 7, 2024
  • Awesome ending!

    According to Tammy on March 18, 2024