This is a novella of 30k words in length. Please use the links to jump to different sections if you’d like to read in more than one sitting.
1-10 | 11-20 | 21-30 | 31 – 40 | 41-50 | 51-57
“We can make this work. Just marry me.”
Elizabeth Spencer opened her mouth to respond—not that she had any idea what she would say—and it was all she could do to stop herself from saying yes because that would be a mistake—but maybe an excellent mistake—
“Elizabeth—” Jason Morgan reached for her hand, but then he stopped. His expression shifted, the softness disappearing as he raised his head to the ceiling. “Did you hear that?”
“It’s—”
A voice. Calling out.
Jason lunged to his feet, banged on the elevator door. “Help! There’s a pregnant woman down here!”
The voices got louder, more insistent. There was some sort of banging, crunching, crashing—she couldn’t even understand all of it —and then the hatch opened, and someone’s face peeked over the edge. “Any injuries?”
“No. There are two of us.” Jason crouched to pull Elizabeth to her feet, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. “She needs to get out first. She’s pregnant, and I don’t know how long it’s been since she’s had any water.”
“Feels like forever.” Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, her eyelids drooping. She’d tried so hard to keep it together. To stay awake. But they were being rescued, and the adrenaline was starting to fade.
“Hey, stay with me—” Jason caught Elizabeth as she slumped slightly in his arms. “Elizabeth—”
“I’m okay—” but her voice was a little slurred. Something fell through the hole — a rope with a harness at the end.
“Can you get that on her?” the man asked. “Is she still alert?”
Jason looped the harness, fastening it as tightly as he dared around the curve of her belly—around their child—still kicking—and her pulse was still steady. “She’s fading, but her pulse is strong.”
“Okay, let’s get her out here. Let’s go.”
He watched as Elizabeth was lifted away from him, her head lolling to the side. She’d held on just long enough to be rescued.
Just long enough to tell him the truth and change everything.
Jason was the next to be lifted out of the elevator, though it felt like hours before he had been cleared from the wreckage of the lobby. He stood in the dark street for a long moment, looking up at the hotel. It was still standing.
“Jason!”
He turned at the sound of his name, saw Sam flying towards him, her dark hair streaming behind. She launched herself into his arms, sobbing. “You’re all right! You’re all right!”
He hugged her back, relieved that she’d survived— “Who was hurt? Emily—Carly—”
Sam drew back, swiping at her eyes. “They’re all out. Emily went to the hospital to be with Alan—”
Jason lost track of what she saying after that, catching sight of the triage area where Epiphany was standing over Elizabeth, inserting an IV. And then paramedics lifted her into the ambulance—Jason had to swallow hard when Lucky climbed in after. The doors closed, and it drove into the night, the wail of the siren bouncing off the surrounding buildings.
“I need to get to the hospital,” he said roughly. What if she was dehydrated? Hadn’t she had labor pains before the explosion—What if it started again–
“Of course, you need to see Alan,” Sam began, but Jason walked away in the middle of her sentence. It would take too long to find a car, and he’d be faster on foot.
2
Just like all those times before
Elizabeth stirred when the ambulance jolted to a stop in the emergency room bay of the hospital. She opened her eyes—she could make out a figure dressed in dark clothing next to her—
“Jason—” His name came out in a slur, and she reached for him, but it wasn’t Jason’s voice that responded.
“It’s all right. I’m here,” Lucky Spencer, her nearly ex-husband, said, clutching her hand to his chest.
She opened her eyes again, frowning. “No. Wait.” She’d been in an elevator. Where was he—
Then she was being lifted in the air again—the wheels on the stretcher hit the ground and jolted again. The night sky overhead flashed in an instant, sliding from the dark to the bright lights of the hospital, and she closed her eyes. It hurt so much—
“Elizabeth?”
That was her name, wasn’t it? She opened her eyes again, saw Kelly Lee there and smiled. “Kelly. Baby.”
“I know, honey.” The stretcher stopped, and finally everything was still. She could breathe. She could think. “I need an ultrasound machine,” she heard Kelly say. “And let’s get these monitors hooked up.”
Elizabeth pressed her hands against her belly. She’d felt the baby kick earlier—Jason—
She looked around again. “Jason?”
“He’s not here,” Lucky said. She frowned—where had he come from? Oh—he’d been in the ambulance. But she didn’t want him. “He was pulled out after you—” He scowled. “Why did he grab you and head for an elevator—he could have killed you both—this is why you leave rescues to the cops—”
“Yeah, the cops were doing so great,” Kelly muttered. Elizabeth could focus more now—she felt a tug against her skin—IV fluids. She exhaled slowly. That explained things.
“He’s not a superhero, and he could have killed my wife and child—” Lucky bit back.
“Well, he didn’t—” Kelly tugged up the skirt of Elizabeth’s purple dress to apply the cold gel on her belly. A moment later, Kelly had the ultrasound wand pressed against it.
“I felt him kicking. He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“Looks all right—” Kelly smiled, tilting the screen towards her. “I want to keep you overnight, get you hooked up to a fetal heartbeat monitor, the fluids, all that fun stuff, but—”
“Jason,” Elizabeth said again, and Kelly stopped. “He—” She looked at Lucky. “Did he get out? Was he okay?”
“Let Sam worry about him. Did you hear Kelly?” Lucky said. “Our baby is okay.”
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t okay. Lucky shouldn’t be here. Maybe if she’d had more time, more rest, Elizabeth might have been able to stop herself, but she was so damn tired and Jason had seemed so happy about the baby—he’d forgiven her for the lies and he’d asked her to marry him and she was going to say no, but—
“Jason.” Elizabeth looked to Kelly. “Can you find out—”
“I can make some calls, honey, but Lucky’s right. We should focus on the baby—”
“Stop asking about Jason!” Lucky growled, his patience gone. “He doesn’t matter, damn it! He could have killed you!”
“Kelly, can he—I don’t—” Elizabeth’s voice tightened. “Can he just go? Please. I don’t want him.”
“What?” Lucky tightened his grasp on her hand. “No. Listen.”
“Maybe you should step out for a while. She needs to rest,” Kelly said, her voice low and gentle. “She’s been through a lot—”
“I’m not leaving her! She’s my wife! That’s my child!”
“No.” She closed her eyes. “No to both. I’m not your wife. And you’re not the father. Now can you just go?”
3
I’m not sure how I got there
Jason was out of breath and nearly at his limits when he finally reached the emergency room. He made his way through the entrance, looked around, hoping to find someone—anyone—who might tell him where Elizabeth was or if he was okay—
But he heard the shouting first.
“You’ve been lying all this time! How could you do this to me!”
“You can’t go in there—” An orderly tried to stop Jason as he left the waiting area, following the sound of a furious Lucky Spencer—a sound Jason was all too familiar with.
“You’ve been punishing me for months and I knew you were cheating! I knew you did it first!”
Jason yanked back the curtain to find Elizabeth, pale, shaking and crying in the bed, Kelly Lee standing shell-shocked by an ultrasound machine, and Lucky—his face flushed and eyes bulging.
“This is not a good time,” Kelly told Jason.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jason demanded of Lucky, ignoring the doctor. He grabbed the cop’s arm, shook him. “She just got pulled out of damn hole in the ground, and you’re screaming at her—”
“Well, whose fault is it that she was in that hole?” Lucky shoved Jason back. He turned back to Elizabeth. “You acted like such a damn saint when you were screwing Patrick Drake! Does Robin know you’re knocked up with his kid? Some friend you are—”
Jason grabbed Lucky again and shoved him back another step. “Stop it!”
“Did you know? Did you know the whole time?”
“I’m getting hospital security to have you both removed,” Kelly declared.
“No, just him,” Jason bit out. “He has no right to be here. They’re separated and clearly he knows he’s not the father.”
“You don’t have any more right than I do—”
“I’m not going anywhere—”
“Stop, just stop—” Elizabeth pushed her hands against head. “Please just stop—”
“Jason, as much as I hate this, he’s right. Elizabeth needs rest and quiet. You should both go—”
“It’s my baby,” Jason found himself saying. The words just spilled out. He didn’t mean to do it, but Lucky already knew part of the truth—
Kelly blinked. “Uh—”
And then Lucky stepped back, his face frozen, twisted in anger and shock. “You.”
It was too late to pull it back. To change anything. So Jason lifted his chin. “Me.”
4
All roads, they lead me here
As soon as Jason had disappeared from the hotel, Sam had followed. But his legs were longer, and he’d had a head start.
By the time she’d reached the emergency room, he’d already been inside—Sam had heard the shouting. Gone towards it, hoping she could help—and then—
“It’s my baby.”
After that Sam didn’t really know what happened. She just saw red. She stalked towards the cubicle, with the curtain flung wide, but no one noticed her.
Lucky closed his eyes, laughed harshly. “Of course. Of course it was you. How stupid am I—” He looked past Jason, saw Sam. “Did you know?”
Jason whirled around, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock—and regret. “Sam.”
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
“Your fiancé,” Lucky snarled, “screwed my wife and everyone’s been lying to me! I want a paternity test—”
“You did one—” Sam’s voice faded as Jason dipped her head. “Oh, it was all a lie, wasn’t it?” She yanked on his arm. “How long? How long?” she repeated, her voice rising a pitch.
“All three of you are out—” Kelly gestured behind them. Sam saw the two security guards coming towards them. “Get out. I don’t care about any of this—”
“I’m going,” Lucky retorted, storming past the guards. Jason swallowed, looked back at Elizabeth who had closed her eyes, tears silently streaming down her face.
“It’s time to go,” the guard said.
“Fine,” Jason said shortly. He stalked away and Sam followed, hearing the sound of a curtain being pulled shut behind them.
5
I imagine you are home
Kelly gestured for a nurse to join them, then swung the curtain closed. Elizabeth clasped her hands over her belly, desperate to feel her baby kick, to connect to something good and pure, that wasn’t part of the nightmare she’d barely managed to survive. She turned her face into the pillow, the tears soaking the fabric.
“Honey, I need you to take deep breaths—” Kelly rubbed her shoulder, eying the monitor with some trepidation as Elizabeth’s heartbeat began to race and her breathing became more shallow. “Elizabeth—” She hissed and bit out a medication order for the nurse hovering at the end of the bed. The fetal heartbeats were also racing—
“It’s over. I ruined everything—”
“You ruined nothing,” Kelly stressed. “Men did. They always do.” She stroked Elizabeth’s hair, hoping the hysterical mother would focus on her. “Listen to me. Look at me, honey. Hey. Elizabeth—”
“They all hate me—”
“Their loss,” Kelly said, wincing as the nurse tugged back the curtain enough for her to see that no one had actually left the immediate area, and Jason looked ready to launch himself across the room when he saw the nurse hand Kelly the syringe.
“Kelly—”
“We’re just going to give you something to sleep, honey. Okay?” Kelly reached for the IV line. “You’ll rest, the fluids will do the job, and it’ll make sense when you wake up.” She paused. “Do you want me to keep Jason updated?” she asked reluctantly. “I’ll make a note in the chart—”
“What?” Elizabeth’s eyes start to close, then fluttered. “Is he okay? Did he make it out?”
“Yes.” Kelly decided to take that as permission, and expressed a sigh of relief when both heartbeats smoothed back into a normal rhythm. She dragged a hand through her hair, then stalked across the room. “Just you—” she pointed at Jason. She glared at Lucky and Sam. “You two wait here—”
“She’s still my wife—”
“I’ve seen the divorce papers,” Kelly retorted. “Shut up or the next place you’ll be is out of the hospital. You—” She jabbed a finger at Jason. “Let’s go.”
She waited until they were back at the cubicle, Jason glancing back at the angry duo—who Kelly might have had some sympathy for if she hadn’t been around for the deterioration of Elizabeth’s marriage. “What did you give her?” Jason demanded. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She was hysterical because one jackass wouldn’t leave her alone and another son of a bitch decided this was a good moment for honesty—” Kelly closed her eyes. “She’s fine. She’s going to sleep through the night. When she’s moved into a room, you can go see her. Until then, go deal with those two and keep this away from Elizabeth. She’s been through enough—” She stopped Jason as he started to walk away. “And I’m not talking about tonight, Jason. I mean for the last six or seven months. One more fight or raised voices, I’m having all three of you barred from the hospital. Elizabeth and that baby come first. She’s my patient and my friend. And you don’t scare me.”
With that, Kelly tugged the curtain closed and went to arrange Elizabeth a room.
6
In your room, all alone
Jason reluctantly trudged back towards Sam where she stood next to Lucky, her malevolent glare not boding well for what would come next.
And she didn’t even know that Jason hadn’t done much thinking about her at all after Elizabeth had told him about the baby, and he had started planning a life with her and the kids. Or that he’d proposed marriage.
Just marry me.
What would she have said if they hadn’t been rescued? He dragged a hand through his hair, searching for the words to explain any of this—
But then Emily came through the doors that led to the rest of the hospital, her eyes red and bloodshot. Jason froze as she came towards them. Alan. His father. He’d forgotten about him–
“Em—”
Emily threw herself into his arms. “I c-called Sonny—he said you’d come to the hospital—that you and Liz—” She sniffled, swiping at her eyes as she drew back. “Is she okay? Where—” She looked at Lucky. “What’s wrong? Oh, God is she—the baby—”
“Ask your brother,” Lucky bit out, then stalked across the emergency room and through the entrance, disappearing into the night. Sam remained where she stood, her angry expression not softening.
Bewildered, Emily looked to him. “Jason—”
“Elizabeth is fine,” Jason told her, rubbing his sister’s shoulder. “They’re keeping her overnight and gave her a sedative to sleep. Kelly said the baby was okay.” He sent Sam a scathing glare, and she pressed her lips together. He’d tell Emily later. “Alan?”
“I came—I came to get you. Mom—” Emily sucked in a shaky breath. “It’s not good, and she needs us. Okay? Please.”
“Okay.” He looked once more at the curtain, then at Sam.
“Don’t worry,” Sam retorted. “I won’t say or do anything. I’ll wait until you’re ready for the conversation.” And then she followed in Lucky’s footsteps.
“Jase—”
“It’s a long story. Let’s go.”
7
And you open your eyes into mine
Jason followed Emily onto the elevator, and she pressed the button for the ICU, her fingers trembling. “I was so scared,” she whispered, holding a fist to her mouth. “I chose Dad to leave. I couldn’t—I’d never forgive myself if Liz lost the baby because of that.”
“It wasn’t a fair choice,” Jason told her, drawing her close. “She understood. We talked in the elevator. She’s okay.”
“Everything’s falling apart,” Emily managed, but closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gathered herself. “I can do this.”
The doors opened, and they went down another hallway until Jason saw Monica—his mother—standing with a doctor—outside a room with glass walls. Beyond that, Alan was stretched out on a bed, his eyes closed, his skin pale. He stopped. Flashed back to the lobby, helping Alan to the door.
This is my father.
Monica turned—saw them—and Jason saw the grief in her eyes before a shield slid down. “You’re okay—” She raised her arms, then let them drop to her sides and forced a smile. “I didn’t know if they’d found you—”
Jason hugged her because he knew that’s what she wanted, and in this moment, he wanted it, too. Monica clung to him, and he could feel her body—his mother—trembling. “I tried to get Elizabeth somewhere safe,” he told her, drawing back. “But we got trapped in an elevator. She’s okay, and so is the baby.” My baby. Our child.
“Oh, good. She—she was with Alan for a while and he worried for her.” Monica looked to Emily. “I—I’m waiting on the rest of the family, but—” She looked back towards the room. Towards Alan. “It was a massive heart attack,” she said softly. “He needs surgery, but—”
“Mom—”
“But he’s not strong enough.” She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, as if that could somehow make the rest of this easier. “He’d die on the table.”
Jason’s hand, still on Monica’s forearm, tightened slightly. “Is he—are they waiting for him to stabilize—”
“No.” Monica’s voice faltered. “No. They can’t. They’re just—they’re m-making him comfortable—”
“No!” Emily cried out, sharply. “No! He was walking, he was okay, he was talking—” She turned to Jason, her eyes frantic. “Tell her, Jase. You were there—”
“Em—” Helpless, his throat tight. His father was going to die. He’d spent years estranged from his parents—refusing to acknowledge who they were to him—and now—there would never be a chance to be different.
This was his father.
And he was going to die.
8
And everything feels better
Sam spied Lucky sitting on a bench by the emergency entrance and headed over. He glared up at her. “You knew,” he spat out.
“I thought you did, too,” she said, gently, finding compassion in her own anger. She sat at the end. “Jason told me when it happened. And about the paternity test. I knew—I knew you didn’t know about the test, but I thought you knew about the blackout.”
“The—” Lucky shook his head. “The blackout.” He stared straight ahead. “She found out about Maxie and left. Saw us together in the apartment.”
“And went straight to Jason—” Who had seen her with Ric. Sam could have forgiven it, could have let it go, but how? Jason didn’t regret it. “She’s been wrapped up in his life ever since. Poking her nose in, pretending she knows everything—” She curled her hands into fists. “And she was lying to him. He didn’t know. He couldn’t have.”
“How can you be so sure?” Lucky demanded.
Because she’d seen his eyes when he’d believed Lucky to be the father. She’d watched him these last few months as he went through the motions of loving her while pining for the child that wasn’t his. And, Sam thought, for the mother of that childhe’d already forgiven for lying to him.
She’d have to fix that — she just needed to find a way to rip the blinders away so that Jason could see Elizabeth for the manipulative bitch she’d turned out to be—
“Because I am,” Sam said flatly. “She chose to lie to us all.” She got back to her feet, looked at the hospital. “I’m not giving up that easily.”
“Good for you,” Lucky said sourly. He stood, then strode off into the parking lot, disappearing between the cars, and Sam went back to the hospital, determined to fight for her relationship.
9
And right before your eyes
Emily crept into the hospital room, looking at her father, at this man stretched out in the bed, so quiet and still already. How would she survive this—
Alan’s eyes fluttered, focused on her, then he smiled. “Emily.” His voice was scarcely above a whisper, and his hand twitched on the bed, as if he wanted to reach for her but lacked the strength.
Emily picked it up, holding it between both of hers. “Daddy,” she managed through the tears. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he breathed. “More than the stars in the sky.”
“No girl could have asked for a better father.” Emily leaned down to press her lips against his forehead, trembling. “I love you,” she said again. Then dropped his hand and fled back out into the hallway, unable to keep herself from breaking down.
10
I’m breaking
Jason hugged his sister tightly, then passed her to Monica. Alan’s vitals were fading and most of the family was still en route to the hospital, trapped in the traffic caused by the hostage crisis and the blockades still in force with the hotel still dangerously unstable.
He didn’t know if he even deserved a goodbye—maybe Emily should get another turn or Monica—
“Go,” his mother said gently.
So Jason did, his hands in his pockets, his face still streaked with soot from the explosion, still smelling faintly of smoke and fire. He stood by his father’s bed, watching as his chest rose and fell.
He remembered a conversation not long after the accident where he’d almost felt connected to Alan, when his father had spoken of how he’d seen himself in Jason, how proud he was, and how Jason would understand one day—
Jason had struggled hard after the accident, running from anyone and everyone who kept searching for Jason Quartermaine in him, and being angry when he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been able to really understand what it meant to be a father.
A father loves you into a box, he’d told Mike after Sonny had deserted Brenda at the altar and left everyone questioning him. With expectations and pushing, and demands—Mike had always tried to explain it—but it wasn’t possible.
Until Jason had held Michael. Until he’d experienced it for himself. And yet — it still hadn’t shaken the way he felt about the Quartermaines—not after they tried to use his accident to make him an unfit father—
He exhaled slowly. He’d be a father in a few short months. A real one. With the blood ties that might protect him from losing another child. And he would never have a chance to make things better with his own.
Alan’s eyes opened, and he saw Jason. “Jason.”
“I—” Jason cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“I never should have—” Alan’s voice faded, and he turned his head to stare at the ceiling. Swallowing. “Never should have given up. Should have kept fighting for you—”
“You did the best you could,” Jason said, believing it more now than he had before. “It’s okay.”
“No. Regret. Mine. Don’t—” Alan closed his eyes, and the monitors beeped. He reached for Jason, and Jason took his hand. “You. Good father. Deserve good.”
“I wish I’d given you another chance,” Jason confessed, forcing the words over a lump in his throat. “That we had more time.”
“Always loved.” His voice dipped out again. “Never stopped. Don’t you. Give up.”
“I won’t.” The monitors sounded a sharp alarm, and Jason looked up — Alan’s heartbeat was fading. “Dad,” he said, trying out the word, and Alan looked at him. Their eyes holding. “I love you,” he said, not sure if it was true, but hoping it would give Alan some peace.
“Liar—” But Alan was smiling as he closed his eyes. Jason looked up, met Monica’s eyes through the glass—
With Emily trailing behind, his mother hurried in, looked at the monitors. “Darling,” she said, standing on the other side of the bed. “We’re here, Alan.”
“Love you all.” Alan’s voice was so low that they had to bend towards him. “Be happy.”
And then the monitor flat lined, and he was gone.
He couldn’t look at his mother or sister, couldn’t comfort them in their grief or accept what they offered. He felt like a fraud. Like an impostor pretending he was one of them. He’d spent years pushing Alan away, shoving him to the edges of his life until Alan had given up and accepted whatever pathetic crumbs Jason had doled out over the years which had been almost none—
How could Alan had laid there at the end and not been bitter? How could this man who had grieved and lost a son only to be confronted with a stranger wearing his face still have the strength as he lay dying to say he’d never stopped loving Jason or that he was sorry for giving up—
Jason stumbled out of the room, the numbness slipping and sliding through his veins until he felt somewhere else. Was he even really here? Had any of this happened—
“Jason.”
He stopped, his hand on the wall glass, Monica still visible on the other side, holding Emily as she cried. As his sister sobbed like she was breaking apart—
Sam stood a few feet away, her eyes rimmed with red, a patch of soot staining her cheek, her dark hair tangled, the blouse she wore torn at the shoulder. “Jason,” she repeated. “I’m so sorry. Let me be there.”
He held up his hands, warding her off. He couldn’t. He didn’t have a right to feel this way. “I can’t.”
“Why—” She inhaled sharply, her dark eyes swimming with hurt, but her jaw clenched with anger. “Why are you pushing me away? I didn’t do anything wrong! She’s the one who lied—”
He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her voice. Couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t do anything. He just wanted the quiet. He wanted everything to go away. Why wouldn’t the world just stop so he could think—
Jason turned, walking away from Sam’s outstretched hands, heading for the elevators. He jabbed the button, but it opened almost immediately — and inside, he found the other Quartermaines. Edward. Tracy. Ned. Dillon—
Ned must have seen it in his face, because he put his hand on Edward’s shoulder. “We didn’t make it in time,” he breathed.
“No—no!” Edward barked, turning to his grandson, the fear in his eyes stark. “No! I can’t—it’s not—”
Jason couldn’t be here for this. Couldn’t face them either. He walked away from the elevator, turned the corner and shoved the door open to the stairwell.
12
Just you and me
Kelly was standing outside the closed curtain when Jason returned to the emergency room. She finished scribbling something on a clipboard, then met his eyes as he approached. “You’re just in time,” she said, her tone more gentle, more kind than it had been when she’d kicked him out of the treatment area. The news must have already hit the emergency room. “We’re moving her to a room for observation. She’s still asleep, but you can go with her.”
Jason just nodded, and then stepped aside. Kelly opened the curtain—Elizabeth lay on the bed, her face still pale, dark circles beneath her eyes. A pair of orderlys started to push, and Jason followed them down the hall to the patient elevator.
When they’d settled her into the room, and Kelly had hooked up the monitors, including one for the fetal heartbeat, she started for the door. Then she turned back. “I’m sorry for your loss. Dr. Quartermaine was a great man and he’ll be missed.”
Jason exhaled slowly. “Thank you,” he managed because Kelly didn’t really know any better. She wouldn’t know that he had no right to the grief lying on his shoulders like a heavy weight.
She set Elizabeth’s chart in the door slot, then closed it as she left. It was finally quiet. A moment to breathe. Jason looked at the monitor, listened to the heartbeat of the baby that he’d always wanted to be his—
After the accident, Jason had built a brick wall around himself. Built out of anger, desperation, and a little bit of fear, he could admit now. He’d enclosed himself a little world where nothing could hurt him. Nothing could touch him. He wasn’t damaged inside there, and no one would treat him like he was stupid. He’d let people in over time — Sonny. Robin. Lily. Emily. Lila. Michael. Carly. Monica. Elizabeth.
But never Alan. And his father had tired of beating himself bloody against that wall and given up. Jason hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t felt the difference. He didn’t need a father, he’d told himself over and over again. Even yesterday, Jason hadn’t felt the lack of a father. He’d had Sonny and Mike. And sometimes Luke. He’d had people who he could see now had filled that role.
But tonight, he’d walked Alan to the door and he’d felt that thin connection for the first time in his own living memory.
This is my father, he’d thought.
And his father was gone before Jason could understand, before he could ask himself why now after all this time—
But he wouldn’t have the same regrets on his death bed, he told himself. He wouldn’t give up on his child.
So he sat by Elizabeth’s bed, watching her sleep, watching the beat of their child as she protected it within herself, and promised himself that whatever it took, whatever he had to do, the people in his life would never doubt what they meant to him.
13
This is the last time I’m asking you this
Nikolas found his brother at the hotel, a radio in his hand, as he oversaw what was left of the triage area. Nikolas had been in the emergency room, the cut to his face being stitched, when he’d overheard the argument a few curtains away.
He had stayed out of it, not wanting to make anything worse, but then Lucky hadn’t come back. The news of Alan’s death had spread like wildfire—he’d nearly sought out Emily but knew she was with her family.
So he’d looked for his brother, praying that this news wouldn’t send him down to that dark place, that Lucky wouldn’t surrender to the pain medication that had destroyed his marriage in the first place—
“Yeah, that’s the last of them,” Lucky said. “Over.” He clipped the radio to his belt as Nikolas approached. “They released you.”
“More important things to worry about.” Nikolas lightly touched the bandage on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Lucky. About the baby.”
“Great, everyone already knows,” Lucky bit out.
“Anyone within hearing range of the emergency room,” Nikolas said gently. “I’m sorry. That she lied. And that you got hurt.”
“It’s always been Jason,” Lucky said tightly. “I should have seen it. I’ve always been her second choice—”
“No. You were always the first choice,” Nikolas corrected. “You know better than that, Lucky. If she’d wanted Jason, she could have had him. She chose you—”
“Did she?” Lucky’s eyes burned into his. “Or did she feel too damn guilty and responsible for me? I found out she was pregnant and checked into rehab. Should she have told me the truth that day?”
“No.”
“Or maybe when I got out and I was clean. She could have told me then, maybe. Or when I thought Maxie had miscarried the baby. Or when I found out it was all a lie—she had chances to tell me.” Lucky stared back at the hotel, standing strong despite the destruction of the lobby. “And she chose none of them. Because she knew what I’d do. What you think I’m going to do if you’re not holding my hand.”
Relieved that somehow Lucky had already reached same destination Nikolas had intended to help him find, he nodded. “We—I just want you to be okay.”
“It doesn’t make it right or okay. What she did. She should have told me she didn’t love me anymore.” His voice tightened and he swung his gaze back to his brother. “She should have told me that. I saw it. In her eyes. She didn’t want me in the ambulance. She only told me tonight because she was too tired and dehydrated to remember the reasons she shouldn’t. She wanted me to go away.”
“Lucky—”
“And how do I blame her?” He dragged his hands through his hair. “I did this. Maybe she always loved Jason somewhere deep inside, but she never would have acted on it. Never would have turned to him if I hadn’t shoved her out the door.”
“Probably not.”
“So you don’t have to worry about me. I’m seeing clearly. I don’t want to be someone she has to take care of. A burden. An obligation. I deserve more than that, damn it. I just—” Lucky closed his eyes. “I just wanted her to love me. I wanted us to have a fresh start. A life together. But I didn’t see it was too late until she kept asking for someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” Nikolas said. “I am. I need to go back to the hospital,” he continued, and Lucky frowned. “Alan died. Emily needs me. Will you go with me?”
14
Put my name at the top of your list
Sam sat on a bench in the waiting room outside the ICU, sure that Jason would return. He’d walked away from her, from the grief. It had been a mistake to see his rejection in that moment as part of the lie. She’d hurt him and made it about her.
She’d never be able to keep this all together if she didn’t find a way to get a handle on this anger. If she let him see how she felt, the anger, the resentment, the jealousy—she’d lose him. He’d push her away, and he’d go to Elizabeth. To the family that was waiting just around the corner.
It was better to swallow it. To put it away, lock it inside a box on the highest shelf. Jason would feel guilty about her inability to have children and the way the secret had been revealed. And if she could keep him a little longer, if they could get past this, Sam knew that he’d remember how much he loved her.
But as she continued to wait, staring at the elevators, willing them to open and for him to step out—the voices in her head began to pick away at that conviction. Jason wasn’t here. He wasn’t with his sister. Wasn’t grieving the loss of the father he’d barely noticed.
And if he wasn’t here, he was with Elizabeth.
There was a fork in the road. One way led to a future with Jason, just how she’d planned for more than a year, and the other to a life without him.
Which path would she choose?
15
This is the last time I’m asking you why
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered and her head moved slightly, the first signs that she was finally waking just as streaks of sunlight dawned over the city outside the hospital room. Jason straightened, wiping the grit from lack of sleep from his eyes with the heel of the hand not holding hers.
Her head turned, one cheek pressing into the soft white pillow beneath her head, her tangled curls sliding across her face. Her lashes fluttered again and then her eyes were open, the deep blue glassy at first, then gradually focusing. “Jason?” The tip of her tongue swept across her dry, cracked lips and she said his name again. “Is that you…are you—”
“I’m here.” Jason squeezed her hand, bent closer so he could hear better, her voice hoarse. “Right here.”
“I’m—” She closed her eyes and her free hand slid down, covering her belly. Jason rested the other hand, still clasped within his, over the curve of their baby. He’d felt the baby kick off and on in the last few hours, and now she could feel it, too. A tear slid beneath her lashes. “He’s okay.”
“Kelly came to check again an hour ago. He’s perfect,” Jason told her. He released her hand, then swept her hair off her face, their eyes meeting. “You both are.”
“You came back,” she said softly. “I made you leave.”
“Kelly did, and she was right,” Jason added. “I’m not sorry everyone knows,” he continued, “but you didn’t need that last night. I’m sorry for that.”
“You…” She swallowed again. “I lied. You don’t…you’re not mad anymore.”
“I never really was,” he confessed. Whatever flush of anger and disappointment in her had swept away as quickly as it had sprung up. She’d tried to tell him so many times, and he hadn’t made it easy. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
16
You break my heart in the blink of an eye
He said he wasn’t leaving, but Elizabeth kept expecting him to. Jason still wore the dark sweater and pants that had allowed him to blend in as one of the hostage-takers, his hair disheveled, his eyes red and tired from the lack of sleep. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d made excuses to go home. To shower and change.
But he didn’t. He stayed, leaving only to let the nurse’s station know Elizabeth was awake and to get some water.
In the elevator, when she’d been so tired and worn out from the long night, from the interminable months of lying and holding in everything so tightly — when he’d asked her to marry him, she might have said yes.
But in the cold light of day, as the fluids restored her energy, they also returned her perspective. Nothing had changed since she’d told him of the baby all those months ago, when he’d offered to marry her, only that he knew for sure now that it was his child.
And now her answer would have to be the same, no matter how much it hurt to turn away the dream.
Kelly was smiling as she came into the room an hour or so after Elizabeth had woken. “I hope you finally got some rest,” she said, checking the vitals one of the other nurses had written down. “Everything looks good—fetal heartbeat back in the right range—the only vital sign I’m nervous about is the blood pressure.”
Jason folded his arms. “I thought you said last night—”
“It was high last night,” Kelly said, unwinding her stethoscope and pressing one end against Elizabeth’s belly. “But I wanted to see what would happen with fluids and rest. It’s still high, but it’s back in the normal range.”
“But?” Elizabeth prompted, looking at the monitor that she knew measured her child’s heartbeat, reassured by the spikes.
“You nearly went into premature labor,” Kelly said. “I’ve been reading reports from the scene — Emily said you couldn’t feel any movement for a while?”
Oh, she’d been so scared when her precious baby stopped kicking, and she couldn’t feel those flutters — no sharp kicks against her ribs. “Yes, but I—I felt him again after the explosion.” Her eyes found Jason’s. “Remember?”
“Yeah.” Jason nodded, smiling at the memory. “Awake and definitely moving. You said his heartbeat was good—”
“And it is. By all accounts, he’s in good shape,” Kelly continued. “I want to keep him that way. I’ll release you, Liz, but you have to promise me you’ll take it easy. Not strict bed rest, but I’m going to talk—” She stopped swallowed. “I’ll get you taken off the schedule,” she said finally. Elizabeth frowned at her, confused by the way she’d phrased it.
“Kelly, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kelly said, darting her eyes at Jason, then back at Elizabeth. “I’ll get your discharge papers ready.” Then she left.
Jason exhaled slowly, sat back down at her bed side. “I want to help,” he told her. “Whatever I can do to make things easier. I mean, I know you’re already worried about not being at work—” He paused. “Before we were rescued, we were talking about how to do this, and I’m still—I want to—”
“Before you ask that question again,” Elizabeth said, and he closed his mouth, “I want to remind you that it’s not the first time we’ve talked about this. And I haven’t—” She forced the words out. “Jason, you’re engaged to another woman,” she said gently. “And my divorce isn’t final from another man. What you’re suggesting, what you’re asking, it’s not reality. It can’t be.”
He shook his head. “It can be,” Jason insisted. “If you—we could make it work—”
“You and I have done this before. Marriage. To other people,” she clarified. “How many times did I tell myself I could make this work? If I just ignored this, or didn’t ask that. You know what I’m talking about, Jason. You’ve been through it with Courtney. You didn’t say that then?”
“I—” He pressed his lips together. “It’s different. We’re not—that’s not what—”
“My answer is no,” she said gently, even as it ripped her in two because it was all she wanted. All she dreamed of.
But he didn’t love her, and eventually, it would destroy them both.
“I want you to be in this baby’s life, and I know there are things we need to talk about. We will. But that needs to be off the table, Jason.” Her voice faltered. “You’re asking the same question but nothing else has changed. I can’t keep saying no. Please don’t ask again.”
17
You find yourself at my door
Lucky knocked gently on the door frame of Emily’s bedroom, drawing her attention from the window seat where she sat, curled up in a ball hugging a pillow against her. “I thought about climbing the trellis,” he told her.
She smiled sadly. “The way you did when we were kids.”
He sat down next to her on the window seat. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Yeah.” Emily closed her eyes. “I’m glad I was able to say goodbye. That Mom and I—that Jason—at least we had that. Grandfather didn’t make it in time.” She looked back out over the gardens. “I knew he was getting older. He was already older when they adopted me. And parents should go first. Right? It’s just…it’s how the world works when it’s fair. And yet—”
“And yet.”
She dragged in a deep, shuddering breath. “I didn’t get—I meant to go see Liz last night, but I never made it, and then Dad—I just—”
“It’s okay. Um, she’s okay as far as I know.” Lucky paused. “But I’m not the person to ask. Not anymore.”
“Lucky—”
“You’re going to be an aunt,” he said, then paused because the bitterness, the grief threatened to swallow him whole. “But I’m not going to be a father.”
She stared at him, her brown eyes wide.
“And I’m only telling you that because you need something to cheer you up.” He forced a smile. “And-and I’m sure it’s helping Jason—” Lucky squeezed his eyes shut. God, he just wanted to this go away. He wanted to disappear into nothing. Into the sweet oblivion. He wanted the world to simply stop.
“Lucky,” Emily sat up, her eyes kind, but unsurprised. “I didn’t know—I thought the test ruled him out.”
“Apparently not,” Lucky said, absorbing the fact that Emily had known the possibility had existed. And had said nothing. Everyone had lied to protect him, holding his hand like he was a child who couldn’t be trusted.
And it shamed him to know it was the truth.
“Anyway, that’ll be good for you guys,” Lucky said again, looking for something positive to say. Looking for the words to make things okay for his oldest and dearest friend. Elizabeth might have had a thousand reasons not to tell him, but if Emily of all people had kept the secret — well that was just proof that it had been done because no one thought Lucky could cope with reality. “You’ll have something to look forward to. Right?”
“Right.” Emily smiled at him, but it was sad. “I’m so sorry, Lucky. I know you wanted this to be different.”
“I made my choices,” he told her. “And Elizabeth made hers. I’m going to find a way to be okay with that. Right now, I want you to know I’m here. And that I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
18
Just like all those times before
Please don’t ask again.
It shouldn’t have hurt like this. Nothing Elizabeth had said was a lie. He was engaged to another woman. Someone he genuinely loved and cared about, someone who had been struck a blow before all of this had started when Sam had learned she couldn’t have children of her own, and then she’d learned in the worst way possible that he was going to be a father.
He left the hospital because Elizabeth had asked him to, and because he needed to. He needed a shower. Rest. Because then he would be able to figure out how to explain to Elizabeth what he meant when he said they could make it work. He would find the words to make her understand why he wanted this. He wanted to be a father. He wanted to take care of her. Why wasn’t it allowed to be that simple?
He remembered, of course, the biggest reason why it wouldn’t be that way when he pushed open the door to the penthouse, and Sam was there, sitting on the sofa, a mug of coffee in her hands.
They eyed each other warily as she set the coffee on the table, then rose to her feet. Twenty-four hours earlier, Jason had seen a future with her that was mostly what he wanted, and now, the days, weeks, and months stretched in front of him and he didn’t see her any more. How could one day change so much?
“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “About Alan. I waited in the ICU for you to come back. I thought you’d spend the night with your family.”
He had, but if he said that now, would that hurt her? Would it make her leave? And if she went, could he ask Elizabeth again because now something had changed? What kind of man did that make him? He wanted the woman he’d asked to marry him to leave so he could start a life with someone else.
Jason swallowed hard, because nothing kind was coming to mind and he really didn’t know how to deal with any of this. His father was dead, a father he’d never let into his life, and now Jason would live his life with those regrets in his heart. What ifs haunting him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t want that anymore—
“Did you know before last night?” Sam asked. “Did you know that the baby was yours?”
“No,” Jason said. “I didn’t.”
She folded her arms. “She lied to you. For months. To you, to Lucky, to the world.”
There was truth in those words, but not enough of it, and so Jason said nothing. How could he begin to articulate what was swirling in his head. Yes, Elizabeth had technically lied, but it hadn’t felt like dishonesty. And how did you explain the difference between the two? Could you? All he knew was that her lie hadn’t been malicious, hadn’t been designed to hurt him, and so he didn’t care.
He was going to be a father. It was all that mattered at the end of the day.
“What are you going to do?” Sam broke in, her eyes burning, her cheeks flushed. “You’re just standing there, and you’re not saying anything.”
What did she want from him? He’d spent hours on the edge of disaster, carefully plotting to extricate the people he loved from a ruthless man who had nearly killed Robin and whose deeds had led to Alan’s death? Then he’d spent even longer, trapped in an elevator, unsure if he or Elizabeth — or their child — would be rescued. And then his father had died.
He had nothing left for anyone, much less Sam who seemed to be angry about something that had nothing to do with her.
“I’m not doing this,” Jason said finally. “I did nothing wrong—”
“Nothing—” Her nostrils flared. “How can you say that? Where were you? With her, weren’t you? Instead of grieving with your family, working this out with me, you went and held her hand, didn’t you?”
“My father died,” Jason said, testing out the words, and finding he didn’t like the way they tasted. The way it felt to say them– the truth wrapped inside a lie. “My child and his mother nearly died. My sister had to choose between them. If you want to have this argument, if you really want this right now—” His words were flat, unfeeling, empty as he spoke them. “If this is the conversation you want to have this morning, then there’s nothing to say.”
“Wait—”
“I did nothing wrong,” he repeated. “Nothing. You and I were not together the night this baby was conceived. And I never lied to you about it. I told you it was a possibility, and I told you what I knew when I knew it.”
“Jason, okay, maybe I was just—”
“I did do one thing wrong,” he corrected, and she stopped talking, her eyes wide. “But you didn’t know about it, so it can’t be the reason you’re doing this. But I’m not sorry.” And he’d do it again. “I asked her to marry me. Twice. When we had the paternity test, and last night.”
Sam fisted her hands at her side. “Do I get an invitation?” she bit out.
“She said no,” he said shortly. He went to the stairs, climbed them. Sam followed as he went into their bedroom, went into the closet and pulled out a duffel bag.
“What are you doing? Jason, wait, I’m sorry. Let me—I can do this right. I was going to be okay, and then you didn’t come home—”
He yanked out the top drawer of the dresser harder than he meant, and the dresser shook. He shoved clothes into the bag, not caring really what he packed until it was full. He looked at Sam again, at the woman he’d expected to share his life with. Her face was stained with tears, her dark eyes pained. “I’m sorry,” Jason said, and this he meant because he’d done nothing wrong, and she really hadn’t either.
But that was the world sometimes. Two people could do no wrong, and still could end up here. At the end of the road. He’d reached it abruptly, without warning. Without understanding. And he could only hope it would make sense to both of them one day.
But if he spent one more minute in this room, struggling through a conversation he didn’t want to have, he’d say something he’d regret.
He picked up the bag and left.
19
You wear your best apology
Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbows when she saw Emily step inside the partially open door. “Em. Hey.”
“Hey.” Emily came to the side, leaned over to hug her lightly. “How are you? Are they going to keep you another night?”
“I’m not sure. Kelly wanted to see my blood pressure come down a few more points, and to monitor the baby. She read your witness statement—” Elizabeth rested her hand against her belly, feeling the baby shift and roll inside. “She was nervous when I couldn’t feel him moving.”
“I’m so sorry—” Emily’s voice broke, and she dipped her head.
“Em—”
“My dad—” Emily squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you. God—” She breathed out, a harsh sound that sounded like more like a sob. “Dad got to the hospital, but he wasn’t stable enough for surgery. He died.”
Elizabeth reached out her hand, feeling useless to do much else with monitors taped everywhere, her movements limited. “Oh, Em, I’m so sorry.”
“I got to speak to him. We all did, which I’m glad about. I mean, not Grandfather, but I know it gave Dad peace to talk to Jason—”
“Jason was—” Elizabeth’s hand fell back down to her hospital bed. “He was there? He talked to Alan?” And then had come back to her room after his father had died— “He never said anything.”
“You saw him?”
“This morning. Um, while we were trapped in the elevator, I told him the truth. The truth I should have told everyone months ago—”
“About the baby,” Emily cut in gently. “I know. Lucky came by.”
“God.” Elizabeth’s head fell back against the pillow. “I was so tired. Just completely at the end of my rope. I just—I wanted him to stop talking so I told him, and it was such a terrible way—and then Jason came in—and then Sam was there, I think. I don’t know. It all runs together for me.” She exhaled slowly. “He didn’t tell me,” she repeated softly. And she’d been hard on him.
“I don’t think he’s handling it well.” Emily swiped at her eyes. “Me? I had time with Dad. I hate this, I should have had him longer, but at least I won’t have regrets. Jason will.” She paused. “But you and Jason—he took the news okay?”
“Pretty well considering I lied to him. I didn’t want to, I didn’t even mean to, but it just—it was like this terrible avalanche that kept coming, and I didn’t even start it.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “But I stopped it.”
“That’s good. I’m glad he knows. I’m sorry for Lucky, but he seems to be handling it okay. Nikolas and I will be there for him. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Thanks.” Elizabeth’s eyes stung. “I’m really sorry about Alan. I’m glad you chose him, you know. He got to the hospital and you were able to say goodbye to him. That’s—that’s going to help.”
“I know. Doesn’t help right now—” Emily rubbed the side of her face. “I keep forgetting. Doesn’t that sound terrible? I woke up this morning, and I had to remember, and then I took a nap, and I remembered—and I hate it. It’s like he dies over and over again. Losing Grandmother was horrible, but Dad—he was supposed to be here longer.” Her voice faltered. “There should have been more time. We deserved more time.”
20
But I was there to watch you leave
Sam thought about ignoring the knock at the door when it came later that day — only a few people had the right to walk past the desk without an advance call—and Sam didn’t want to see any of them. Not right now. Not when she couldn’t understand how everything could keep going so wrong, and why she was somehow the bad guy—
All she’d done was not handle terrible news all that well — how had Jason been able to walk out as the innocent party?
But the knocking persisted, so Sam went over to answer it because maybe it was someone to yell at—
“Where’s Jason?” Carly demanded as she stalked past Sam, into the living room. She looked around. “Jason!”
“Not here,” Sam said dully.
“I haven’t been able to find him all day. He’s not answering my calls—” Carly huffed “Where did he go? I heard about Alan—”
“You might want to check with Elizabeth,” Sam said, the words leaving her mouth as a snarl, something she hadn’t intended. “She’d know.”
Carly narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means—” Sam dragged her hands through her hair. “It means that Elizabeth lied to us all, okay? The paternity test. It didn’t come back for Lucky—”
“No, of course it did—” Carly stared at her. “I saw her open it. I knew it was Lucky’s baby!”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s saying differently now—”
“No, no, this is a trick, okay? Because I saw her open it, and if it had been Jason’s baby—she’d have dropped everything. She finished her shift—”
“That’s your evidence?” Sam said, skeptically. “Did she even show you the results?”
“No, but she sure as hell didn’t deny it—” Carly hissed. “This is a trick,” she repeated. “A low down dirty trick. She’s taking advantage of Jason’s grief, right? Alan died. She’s using it.”
“I—” Sam shook her head. “I don’t want to hear any of this right now.” As much as Sam hated all of this—even hated Elizabeth—even she knew that wasn’t what was happening. Elizabeth had slid in through the cracks of Jason and Sam’s relationship, always there when a fracture deepened. But if Elizabeth had wanted to take advantage of Jason, she would have accepted his marriage proposal.
Any of the times he’d made it. She’d refused him, and how was Sam supposed to handle that? To understand the grief in Jason’s eyes hadn’t only been for his father, but for the rejection he’d felt when another woman had refused to marry him.
“You can sit here and yell into the wind, but I’m going to take a nap,” Sam said finally said. And while Carly was in mid-complaint, Sam went upstairs and did exactly that.
21
And all the times I let you in
“Hello, darling.” Her grandmother poked her head around the edge of the door. “Do you have the energy for a surprise visitor?”
Elizabeth sat up, already smiling because she knew who her visitor was—and sure enough, a little bundle of energy zoomed past his great-grandmother towards the bed. “Mommy!” Cameron cried. “Mommy! Miss you!”
Audrey came in behind him, closing the door. Then she lifted Cameron to sit on the bed. “Careful, my love,” she cautioned the toddler. “Mommy’s still a little tired and needs a gentle hug.”
“Hi, Mommy.” Cameron dropped to his knees and crawled towards her, wedging himself in between her side and the railing. “You almost better?”
“Almost.” She kissed the top of his curls, lingering for just a moment. She’d worried so in the elevator, in the hotel, that she might never get to hold him again. That he would grow up without her. But she had another chance.
And she would make it a better one.
“Thank you, Gram. I really—” She took a deep breath. “I really needed to see him.”
“He really needed it, too. We both did.” Audrey squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, mostly. Kelly says I’m okay. She’s going to discharge me in about an hour.” Elizabeth paused. “I—I can’t go back to the apartment. Lucky and I—”
“I’d heard,” Audrey murmured, and Elizabeth dipped her eyes away, focusing on the thin hospital blanket. “News travels fast when it begins in the emergency room at the top of someone else’s lungs.” Her grandmother tilted her head. “You’ll come home with me then. You still have things from when you came last fall.”
“Thanks, Gram. I appreciate it. Um, there’s just—” She cleared her throat. “Jason—He’s going to be a part of things—”
“I’d hope so if he’s the father of this child. Are you asking me if he has permission to come in?”
“Yes.”
“Of course. It might not be what I wanted for you, but I have no intention of making anything more difficult for you.” Audrey smiled at her. “Now, tell me what else Kelly has to say about the baby.”
22
Just for you to go again
Jason stepped inside the office of the coffee house, remembering that nearly twenty-four hours earlier, he and Spinelli had planned how to infiltrate the hotel and end the siege.
It felt like another lifetime now.
Behind the desk, Sonny lurched to his feet. “Jason. Hey. Hey. I wanted to—” He came around the desk. “I wanted to call. To come by. I just didn’t know—” He paused. “I heard about Alan. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” Jason said, though it still didn’t feel right to accept condolences for a man he’d never let be his father. How could you let people feel sorry for a loss that wasn’t yours? He had no right— “I just—I came to tell you I’m not at the penthouse.”
Sonny furrowed his brow. “What? What happened—”
“I—” Jason searched for the words and settled on the simplest recap of the last day of his life. “Elizabeth’s baby is mine. I’m going to be a father.”
Sonny stared at him for a long moment. “But she said—”
“Did she?” Jason asked. He wiped the back of his mouth. He’d spent hours wracking his brain—and she’d never said those words. She’d never told him or clearly anyone else that the baby was Lucky’s. It didn’t make it right that she’d kept the truth from him—but also it didn’t make any of it wrong. “She never told you, did she?”
“No,” Sonny said slowly. “Now that I think about it — she said it was who she expected. I assumed—”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry—but she should have corrected me—”
“Before or after you told her it would have made things harder for me?” Jason wanted to know, and Sonny closed his mouth. “I’m not innocent, either. And that’s not what I came here to tell you.” He didn’t want to think about all the ways he’d failed Elizabeth or how she’d not told the truth — it no longer mattered. That was yesterday.
Today was important. Tomorrow was the focus. He wouldn’t have regrets.
“I don’t understand what that has to do with Sam or the penthouse—” Sonny put a hand on Jason’s forearm. “Don’t you think you should maybe slow down a little? You just lost your father—”
“It’s because I lost him it has to be this way. Alan—he told me—” Jason fisted his hand at his side. “He told me his regret was giving up. Not fighting to be my father. And now it’s mine, too. I didn’t give him a chance. Not a real one. I don’t want that with my child. This baby — I can’t be the father this baby deserves if I don’t make changes.”
“Okay,” Sonny said slowly. “But I still—”
“I’m at Jake’s right now,” Jason told him. “I just thought you should know. If you needed me.”
“Jason, just wait a minute, okay—” Sonny caught his arm as Jason turned to go. “You and Sam have been through a lot this last year. You can co-parent with Elizabeth and not give up what you have with Sam—people do it all the time—”
“I—” Jason nodded. “I know. It’s not just about the baby. I don’t—” How did he put it into his words? “I think Sam and I have been over for a while,” he said finally. “Or maybe we never really got back together. Not in the way that mattered. You and Carly. You almost got back together right before you got divorced for good. You know what I mean. You were together, but it wasn’t right.”
“Okay. Yes, but—”
“And I know you think you’re still going to be together now,” Jason continued, “but Carly doesn’t want it. So it won’t work. I didn’t know I was done until I asked Elizabeth to marry me, and she asked me about Sam. I hadn’t even thought about her.”
“You asked—” Sonny scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s back up for a second. You got engaged to Elizabeth before you broke up with Sam, and then Alan passed away—I think you need—”
“She said no,” Jason said bluntly, and Sonny closed his mouth. “And she was right. It was the same as the last time I asked her—”
“The last time—”
“The last time, she wanted to know about Sam, and I didn’t know what to say. Because I didn’t think about her then either.”
“How many times exactly did you propose—”
“Does that matter?” Jason asked, impatiently.
“Apparently not. Jason—” Sonny shook his head. “Okay. I get it. You and Sam are done. But—”
“She told me nothing had changed. But it has now,” Jason said. “Sam and I—I felt guilty about Elizabeth. About wishing—” He closed his mouth. It was clear to him now in a way it hadn’t been this morning. He’d never really wanted to get back together with Sam, but she’d been there and Elizabeth wasn’t. And he’d stayed with Sam because he felt guilty for wishing she was someone else. For wishing that he was the father of Elizabeth’s baby.
And now his wish had become a reality.
“Jason, just because you’ve had some sort of epiphany about your life and what you want from it, it does not mean everyone else has. Elizabeth said no last night, didn’t she?”
“And this morning—”
“You proposed again—” Sonny shook his head. “Never mind. Can I just give you a little advice? Just one piece,” he said when Jason looked at him. “Take your time. Everyone has been through a lot, including Elizabeth. She might not be ready to take the same leap you are. Don’t take it too hard if you try to propose again now that you’ve broken up with Sam, and she turns you down, okay?”
“I won’t.” He started for the door.
“You won’t propose or you won’t take the rejection too hard?” Sonny called after him, but Jason was already gone.
23
Disappear when you come back
“It’s good to see you on your feet.”
Elizabeth grinned as she saw Patrick leaning against the door frame. She tucked the remnants of her purple dress in her tote bag. “Hey. I was hoping to see you before I left. How’s Robin?”
“Good, good.” He crossed the room to hug her briefly. “In recovery. We got lucky. I guess if they’re springing you, you and the baby are good?”
“Kelly’s asking for some light bed rest for a few weeks, but me and baby have a clean bill of health—” Elizabeth touched her belly. “I’ll be off the schedule for a bit.”
“Yeah.” Patrick rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I heard a rumor from the emergency room—”
“Oh, God, everyone really does know.” Elizabeth sank back onto the bed. “I guess I should be relieved it’s less people I have to tell.”
“There you go.” He sat next to her. “You doing okay with all of this?”
“I guess. I haven’t seen Lucky since last night. I feel terrible for how he found out, but I’m a little relieved. Except for—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Jason asked me to marry him. Twice.” Four times if she counted the times he’d asked last fall.
“And I’m guessing that you said no.”
“Of course I said no. He’s only asking because Alan passed away. We talked about him in the elevator last night, and I know Jason has regrets for how everything happened—” Elizabeth got back to her feet. “What if I said yes, and he resented me later for taking advantage of him—”
“I don’t know a lot of people who take advantage of Jason Morgan—”
“That’s because you don’t know him,” Elizabeth shot back. Patrick put up his hands in protest and she sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just—Jason’s too generous with himself. He’s always worried about other people. Taking care of them. Sonny and Carly, for one. And now he’s decided I’m one of those people—”
“In your defense, you should be one of those people. You’re literally carrying his kid. He wants to be part of it, Elizabeth. It’s not a terrible thing—”
“It wouldn’t work—” She stared down at the bed. “Marriage should be more than that. I’ve had two husbands, Patrick. I can’t let the third one marry me out of guilt and obligation. I won’t do that to myself. Or him.”
“Then don’t marry him.” Patrick waited. “Unless you want to.”
Of course she wanted to. But— “I can’t. Let’s just leave it at that.”
24
Everything is better
Nikolas approached the guest room he’d given Lucky when he’d finally managed to convince his brother to leave the hotel and return to Wyndemere. The door was slightly ajar, so Nikolas knocked gently, and pushed it open.
He found his brother stretched out on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. A bottle of tequila on the nightstand behind him, and papers strewn across the bed and his lap. From the shape of them, Nikolas knew they were legal documents.
“Hey.”
Lucky reached for the still half full glass, stared down at the clear liquid. “I’m not out looking for pills,” he said, his voice only a bit slurred. His eyes were a little glassy and unfocused. “You don’t have to check on me.”
“You’re sitting alone, drinking and reading your divorce papers,” Nikolas said slowly. “I just wanted to—”
“I had them with me last night,” Lucky interrupted. He set the glass aside, then started to gather the papers back into a pile. “I was going to rip them up after dinner because I thought—I was sure she’d want to stop the divorce from being finalized.” He met Nikolas’s gaze. “It’s a week away. Did you know? I didn’t contest it, and she didn’t ask for anything. It flew right through.”
“It’s not going to do any good to look at this—”
“It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” he murmured. “She didn’t want to get back together. I had to push for every moment she gave me. She didn’t even say we were getting back together—just that we’d have dinner. And I was ready to rip them up. Would she have let me, you think?”
“She might have,” Nikolas admitted. He pulled out a chair from the desk and sat. “Elizabeth has always loved you, Lucky. And no one wanted this. She stayed until that night. Until you put your hands on her.”
“It’s all a blur, you know. She was so angry at me—I don’t even think she knew I’d slept with Maxie again—” Lucky dragged a hand across his face. “But she’d found the pills. She was going to leave. I just wanted her to stop. I wanted everything to stop for a minute so I could think—and then she was on the ground—” He exhaled. “When we were together before, after I came back—the brainwashing, the Cassadines, all that crap I pulled with Jason—the wedding—Sarah—” He shook his head. “I used to ask myself why she was still with me, what I’d done to deserve someone who loved me the way she does—but it’s not love.”
“Lucky—”
“It’s not the kind of love either of us deserve,” Lucky said, ignoring Nikolas. “It’s obligation. She didn’t want me back on the pills. I got clean for the baby. Not for her. Not for Cameron. I got clean for the baby. What kind of a man does that make me?”
“A human one,” Nikolas offered. “Give yourself a break, Lucky. You’ve been through hell—”
“Were we really even in love last year?” Lucky murmured. “I thought we’d fallen for each other again. I thought we were happy, and planning a future. But I think maybe I was lonely. And maybe she was, too. And we drifted back towards each other.”
“Until you were injured, Lucky, you and Elizabeth were happy,” Nikolas told him. “Don’t let everything that’s come after ruin that memory. You were happy and you were in love—”
“I kept throwing Patrick in her face,” Lucky continued. “When she got arrested for that surgery on Sam, I was sure it was because of Patrick. Even last night, when I found out the baby isn’t mine, I accused her of sleeping with Patrick.” He looked at Nikolas. “I couldn’t face the truth. I see that now. Because it was always Jason. He saved her from Manny. I couldn’t do that. He saved her last night, too. I just made it worse—” He got to his feet, picked up the divorce papers and went over to the trash can. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t compete. I don’t want to. I’m not a kid, making promises in a church. I’m not who I was before the fire, and neither is she. The longer we keep looking for who we used to be, the more we’re going to hurt each other.”
He tossed the papers aside. “So I’m done. She can live her life, and I’ll figure out mine.”
25
And right before your eyes
Jason knocked lightly on the front door of Audrey Hardy’s home, going over what he wanted to say. He couldn’t just ask her to marry him again—she’d been upset when he’d asked that this morning, and Sonny was right. Just because Jason felt like his head was much clearer, he couldn’t expect Elizabeth to be on the same page.
So first, he had to explain why things were different. She couldn’t have known that earlier—he hadn’t until he’d returned to the penthouse and talked to Sam. He’d explain it to Elizabeth, and this time, she’d understand. He could commit to her and the baby—to Cameron, too. She just had to trust him.
The door opened, and Audrey Hardy stood there, her lips pinched in slight disapproval. She couldn’t have been thrilled with the news, Jason reminded himself. Lucky might have had a drug addiction, but he was still a cop.
And Jason was still Jason.
“Mrs. Hardy,” he said with a nod. “I got Elizabeth’s message that she was being discharged. I was hoping to talk to her.”
“She’s upstairs resting, but she was awake when I checked on her.” Audrey stepped back so he could enter, then closed the door after he had. “I’m supportive of this situation,” she continued, “because to be anything else would be foolish, considering what my granddaughter has been through in the last six months.” She raised her chin. “I understand that you intend to be in this baby’s life, and therefore, Elizabeth’s. That’s fine. Children should have their fathers, and I remember that you were quite good with Michael.”
Jason nodded, a bit cautious now. “I appreciate that—”
“But—” Audrey held up one finger. “I will be watching you. I should have done more when she left Lucky in September. When she told me about the drugs and the affair in August. I will not make that mistake again. The moment I feel you are not what Elizabeth needs, I will make that clear to her.”
“I understand,” Jason said. “I just want—I want what’s best for Elizabeth. And her children. Whatever that ends up being.”
“All right. Tell Elizabeth that Cameron is eating dinner, and then I’ll put him down for bed. I want her to rest.”
26
I’m aching
Elizabeth flipped through the channels, restless and irritable. She couldn’t focus on anything long enough to enjoy it — whether it was her mood or the quality of the television—
She heard footsteps down the hallway, and sat up, a bit bewildered. Those weren’t her grandmother’s—
“Jason,” she said, her eyes widening. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—I thought you might come by tomorrow.”
“I—I can go.” He stood in her doorway, a bit uncertain now. “If you’re tired—”
“No, it’s okay.” Elizabeth sat up and gestured for him to come in. He closed the door and came to sit in the chair by her desk. It felt so strange to have him in her bedroom, with the posters from high school of boy bands still on the wall. “Um, I feel bad about how things were left this morning. Emily—she came by.” He met her eyes. “I’m so sorry about Alan.”
Jason didn’t anything right away, and she worried that it was the wrong thing to say. He stared down at his hands, and she fidgeted, twisting her fingers in the comforter she sat on. “I don’t know if I get to be upset about it,” he said finally, his voice soft, almost impossible to hear.
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “What? Why?”
“He was my father, but I never let that matter.” Jason grimaced. “I pushed him away until he stopped trying—”
“Jason—I wasn’t around after your accident,” she said, “but I bet if you ask other people who were—Emily or Robin—you’d remember how hard it was for you. You told me that it felt like they never saw you. That they were always telling you how it was before, and being angry you didn’t live up to that.”
“Yeah, but—”
She slid to the end of the bed, until her legs were dangling off the foot and she was closer to him. “You get to feel upset about losing him, Jason. Because now it never gets to be different. You never get to change how it was. You get to mourn for the relationship you can’t have.” She reached for his hand, held it between both of hers. “He was your father, Jason. It was a complicated, messy, relationship. He hurt you by not accepting who you grew up to be, and you hurt him by not being the man he expected. Did you—did you get to talk to him? Emily said she did.”
“Yeah.” Jason stared down at their intertwined hands. “Yeah, I did. He told me he regretted giving up. That he always loved me.” He looked up and met her gaze. “I told him I loved him, and he said it was a lie, but he was smiling—” He stopped, looked away. Elizabeth reached for his face, turning it back to with a gentle push of her fingers on his jaw. Tears glimmered his eyes.
“Was it a lie?” she asked him gently.
“No. I don’t—” Jason cleared his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe. There were times after the accident when we almost—when I could imagine it being different. Like it was with Emily or Lila. Or Monica. But he hated everything I did. He wanted to control me.”
“He wanted you to be safe,” Elizabeth corrected softy, and Jason nodded. “Parents do that, you know. We control our children, we create their worlds. And we do it for as long as they let us. I hope I’ll know when to let go, to let them make mistakes. He was afraid of losing you again. He couldn’t let go.”
“I want it to be different,” Jason told her. “For me. This baby. I want to be a father. I don’t want to miss anything, but—” He shook his head. “I had it planned,” he muttered. “What I was going to say.”
“And you think the best way to be a father is to be a full-time father,” Elizabeth said. “It’s why you keep offering to marry me—”
“No, I mean, yes, but not the way you mean it,” Jason said, with a shake of his head. “You told me I couldn’t ask because nothing had changed. But it’s changed now. I broke up with Sam.”
Her heart twisted. “Jason, you’ve had a really long day. Have you even slept yet?”
“A few hours, but—”
“Marriage is more than just sharing children. It should be, anyway,” she added. “I can’t marry you so that you can be with this baby all the time. That’s not fair to either of us. We deserve more, and I’m not settling for less. Not again.”
“But—”
“But,” she interrupted, “you and I can come up with something that makes us both happy. Being a good father isn’t just about showing up, about being there all the time. We don’t have to have all the answers right now. Especially not today.”
He sighed. “You’re saying no again.”
“I’m stopping you before you ask the question. Because I already told you it’s off the table, and this time I want you to listen to me. You do not need to marry me to be in this child’s life. I promise you. I made a mistake keeping it from you, but that’s not going to happen again. We’ll sign whatever paper you want, you’ll be on the birth certificate. I won’t keep this baby from you. You’re not going to miss anything.”
Jason nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
No, but it was what she needed. What they both needed. “Thank you.”
“I’ll—I’ll get going.” He got to his feet. “Thanks. For…”
“I’m sorry you lost your father, Jason,” Elizabeth said, hoping that this time, he’d accept the condolences.
“Thank you. I’ll—I’ll call. Or you can—”
She got to her feet and hugged him tightly, but briefly, then kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
He nodded, then left, and she sat back on the bed, wondering if she’d made a mistake. If maybe she should have let him ask the question.
But if he had—if he’d looked at her one more time and asked her to marry him, she might not have been able to say no.
27
Run fast, nowhere to hide
Her mother was probably the last person Sam wanted to see right now, but she forced herself to smile as she let Alexis into the penthouse. “I know. I’ve been avoiding your calls.”
“I would have come over yesterday,” Alexis said, “when I heard what happened, but I thought maybe you needed some space.” She looked around the penthouse. “Jason isn’t here?”
“No.” Sam closed the door, rested her forehead against it. “He left. Yesterday. He came in after being out all night at the hospital, packed a bag, and left. I haven’t heard from him.”
Her mother said nothing, so Sam turned to look at her, a bit suspicious. “You’re not going to tell me I’m better off?”
“I made a mistake last year,” Alexis said gently. “I was just—I was so scared, Sam. I’d just found out, and I was terrified I’d lose you—but I never should have pushed Jason when he was already struggling—”
“I wish I could blame you. It’d be easy. I blamed you for everything else wrong in my life.” Sam sighed, wandered over to the sofa. “Blamed you for my daughter’s death, even though placental abruption is often fatal. Especially when it comes without warning. Blamed you for Danny’s death—”
“Sam—”
“Blamed you for Manny, too.” Sam sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands fisted in the cushions next to her, staring blindly at the coffee table. “And I blamed you for Jason leaving. So I decided to hurt you both.” She closed her eyes. “You knew that, didn’t you? That it wasn’t spur of the moment. I wanted to hurt you, Mom.”
“I know.” Alexis sat in the chair next to the sofa, and waited for Sam to look at her. “Did it make you feel better?”
“Do you want the truth?” Sam asked.
“Yes.”
“It did. It felt good. For about an hour.” Sam’s smile was wistful now as she looked away, staring again at the coffee table. “And then the regret set in. Because the only way for it to work as revenge would be to make sure you knew. That Jason knew. So I got up and went to tell him. I got all the way to the Towers, to the penthouse. Up all those stairs—and I couldn’t do it.” Her voice shook. “I knew it would hurt him too much. And then I thought about you. And Kristina and Molly. And how it would hurt everyone.” She swiped at her tears. “I wish I’d let that matter before I did it.”
Sam took a deep breath. “You pushed Jason into leaving me last year, Mom, but you didn’t hold a gun to his head. He chose to do it. And he chose to keep pushing me away until I was angry enough to lash out. You were right, by the way. About what I was letting it turn me into. I was nothing without Jason. No one. And now—” She waited a moment. “He found out last night about the baby. He didn’t know the whole time.”
“Sam—”
“I’ve been sitting here, angry at myself because I didn’t handle it well. I—I pushed at him, and I definitely jumped down his throat because he spent the night at the hospital with Elizabeth. I was telling myself that if I had just let him breathe, if I’d let him go to sleep or take a minute, he’d still be here.” Sam looked at Alexis. “I can’t have children because of what Manny did to me. And Manny was aiming for Jason when he shot me. It’s not Jason’s fault. Not really. I took the risk. But I was arrogant. I thought I could handle whatever this life threw at me. But I can’t have children. Ever. That’s done for me.”
“I’m sorry,” Alexis said. “I don’t know what else to say—”
Sam swiped at stray tear. “I could make him feel bad, you know. I could have used this to keep him with me. Make him feel guilty for having a child with another woman when I can’t. I spent all day yesterday trying to think of how to do it.” She shoved herself off the sofa, went over to the terrace doors, folding her arms around her torso. “I could still maybe pull it off. If I play it right. I know how to do it. I managed to seduce your husband in about six weeks. I could get Jason back.” She looked at Alexis. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Alexis rose and crossed the room, her fingertips trailing over the green felt of the pool table. “I know what happened and why. It’s my choice to forgive you. I’ve made it.”
“I don’t deserve it, but thanks.” Sam closed her eyes. “I could get Jason back,” she repeated. “And there’s such a big part of me that wants it. Because I liked who I was when we were together. I liked that he made me feel strong and capable. I think he was the only man I’ve ever been with who came close to knowing who I really am. And he loved me anyway. For a little while.”
She scratched her arm absently as her mother remained silent behind her. “But Jason doesn’t love me anymore. It would end in tears and anger and we’d hate each other if we kept clinging to whatever this was. He’d see the pieces of me I’ve locked away—and he’d lose what little respect or warmth he has for me.” She exhaled in a rush of air. “Despite that, I’m still tempted.”
“You could do all of that,” Alexis said, “or you could pack your things and come home to me and your sisters. And we’ll figure out what’s next together.”
“You’d still want me in your home?” Sam wanted to know. “After everything I’ve done. After what I’ve said today?”
“Yes, I do. You need to be around people who love you.” Alexis tipped her head. “And I think we can both agree that I’ve got some sense of those pieces you’re afraid Jason will see. And I love you, anyway. So, will you try to grab a few more months with Jason or will you come home with me?”
28
Just you and me
Elizabeth peeked through the window and sighed when she saw Lucky standing on her grandmother’s porch. She rested a hand on her belly, felt the reassuring kick of the baby. Then looked at her grandmother. “I don’t know if I want to answer it.”
“I’ll be right here,” Audrey promised. “Or I can tell him to go away.” She rose and crossed to Elizabeth even as Lucky rang the bell a second time. “You said you were sorry that he found out the way he did. Maybe there’s a chance—”
“Gram—”
“Not for reconciliation,” Audrey said hastily. “But closure.”
Elizabeth sighed, and went to open the door. Lucky blinked in surprise, nearly dropping the manila envelope he held. “Lucky.”
“Uh. Hey. Hi. I—” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I thought maybe we could talk. For a minute.”
“Yeah, sure. Come in.” Elizabeth stepped aside, and when he entered, she closed the door. “How are you?”
“Fine, I guess. Staying with Nikolas for a few days just to keep my head on straight.” He nodded. “Mrs. Hardy.”
“Lucky.” Audrey looked at Elizabeth who nodded. “I’ll go check on Cameron. He’s napping upstairs.”
When her grandmother had disappeared up the stairs, Lucky looked at Elizabeth. “How are you feeling? I, uh, know you were in the hospital overnight—”
“I’m good. Kelly was just worried about the cramping I had while we were held hostage. And my blood pressure. She’s got me on light rest.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m not sorry that the truth is out there,” she said, “but I wish it hadn’t been that way. It was so public and I know that’s been hard—”
“It was a bad night.” Lucky stared down at the envelope in his hands. “You were tired. Dehydrated. I’m angry at you,” he confessed. “So angry that I almost can’t breathe.”
Elizabeth flinched, cleared her throat. “I know—”
“But I’m angrier at myself.” He raised his eyes, met hers. “Before I got hurt, we were so good. You, me, and Cam. We were a family. You were worried about the pain meds from the start. I know that. I couldn’t see it then, couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think of myself as being weak.”
“Lucky—”
“I wanted to be angry that you’d had an affair—I wanted to see it as proof that I’d been right all along, but—” He swallowed hard. “I think maybe that’s just me looking for someone else to blame. I thought it was Patrick, but I was wrong—”
“It was one night,” Elizabeth said. “The blackout. After I found out about Maxie.” She folded her arms. “I was planning to leave you, but then I came home and you were going to a meeting. You wanted to get clean. And I wanted to believe in you. In us.”
Lucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. I can—I can be okay with that. Um—” He looked away. “I don’t really know what to do with any of this. I’m angry because you lied, but I know you had reasons. But it doesn’t really stop me from hating you. I don’t want to, but—” He held up the envelope. “Our divorce is almost final. I was going to bring these to dinner to tear up. So we could try again. I was just going to throw them out, but…” He handed it to her. “I signed them. I know that doesn’t matter because the divorce will be final anyway, but I didn’t sign them before. I made you go through the court. To give us more time. To give me more time to convince you to forgive me.”
Elizabeth held the papers against her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That it ended this way. I loved you so much, Lucky. I wanted so much more for us.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” He slid his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels. “I wanted—I wanted you to know that I love Cam. That I always will. But I’m angry at you,” he repeated. “So maybe we just walk away. You’re gonna have this baby, and Jason—” He closed his eyes.
“Lucky—”
“No. You’ll have this baby, and Jason will be there. And he’s—he’s an okay guy. I mean, I liked him just fine when we were kids. And he’s a good father. Maybe it’ll be easier for you if I’m out of the picture.”
“What about you?” Elizabeth asked. “Cam loves you—”
“He’s young,” Lucky said, but he looked away, swallowing hard. “And being a good father isn’t always about holding on. It’s about knowing when to walk. I’m angry at you,” he said once again, and this time when he looked at her, she saw the fury he’d been hiding. The flare of his nostrils. The tension in his shoulders. “Right now, I’m keeping it together because we’ve been through hell. And you’re pregnant. And because I can remember that this wasn’t some sort of deliberate plan. But I think it’s better for you and me if this is the end. Because I can’t promise I’ll always feel that way. When you have that baby, and I remember it was supposed to be mine—” Lucky’s jaw clenched. “We’re done now. The divorce will be final. We both walk away with what we came with.”
He strode past her, yanked open the door, and left. Elizabeth looked after him, her eyes stinging with tears. “Goodbye,” she said softly. She felt the baby kick again, and reminded herself that Lucky had a right to his anger, and he had a right to walk away. He’d never adopted Cameron and hadn’t really sought him out after Elizabeth had left, but—
Oh, it hurt to know that her little boy was losing the only daddy he’d ever known. Lucky had just assumed Jason would step in, and Elizabeth knew he was right—but it didn’t make it right. It didn’t make it okay that Lucky could be Cameron’s father for over two years and then walk away because of her mistake, assuming another man would pick up his responsibilities.
As much as Lucky had railed against his father, he wasn’t much better than Luke who had walked out on his daughter when Laura hadn’t quite measured up either.
29
This is the last time I’m asking you this
Jason picked up the note that Sam had left on the desk, staring at the contents, trying to digest it. He’d had a call from the front desk that Sam had left with her mother—and that there had been suitcases.
He’d decided to venture back to the penthouse to find out—and sure enough—Sam’s dresser and closet had been cleared out. She was gone.
I hope whatever you’re looking for makes you happy. You were kind to me when you didn’t have to be, and you took care of me when I was nothing more than the bitch ruining your best friend’s marriage. I hope one day we can both remember the good we brought to each other.
It was a generous note, one he certainly didn’t deserve after the way he’d acted the day before. After he’d finally slept for more than two hours, this morning he’d woken up with a fair bit of embarrassment and regret. Not that he and Sam had broken up — it had been overdue, but he wished it had been handled better.
And then he’d gone to Elizabeth the news of the break up as if it was something that would magically change her mind about marrying him—Jason was lucky she was still talking to him—
There was a sharp knock on his door, but before Jason could even turn towards it, Carly was pushing it open. “Finally!” She rushed towards him, hugging tightly. “I’ve been looking for you for ages!”
“What did you need?” Jason asked, hugging her back, then pushing her away gently. “Is everything okay?”
“What? How can you ask me that?” Carly’s eyes were wide and she slapped his chest. “I’m here for you! I can’t believe this! She lied to us all! I always knew she was a manipulative bitch just looking to get her claws into you—as soon as she had the chance—”
Jason scowled, dropping Sam’s note on the desk. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “Are you talking about Elizabeth?”
“Of course.” Carly hissed. “You’ve forgiven her, haven’t you? Why can’t you see—”
“I’m not listening to this—”
“No! She saw her chance in that stupid elevator—and look what happened! You walked into that elevator in love with Sam and then you broke up with her! Elizabeth is using that baby and your father’s death—”
“Don’t say another word—” Jason whirled around and stabbed a finger at Carly. “Not one more word.”
Carly closed her mouth, but the silence only lasted for a minute. “You always defend her! She lied to you! She’s just using you—”
“If she’s just using me, then why did she refuse to marry me?” Jason wanted to know, out of patience with the woman who claimed to be his best friend. “I’ve asked her more than once.”
That threw Carly and she actually stopped to think about it. He could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to make sense of it. “She refused,” she echoed. Clearly, she couldn’t compute that. Couldn’t factor into her low opinion of Elizabeth.
“I asked her twice last fall,” Jason bit out. “And then three more times yesterday. So go ahead, Carly. Explain that to me. If Elizabeth’s trying to manipulate her way into my life, lying about the paternity and refusing to marry me doesn’t really play, does it?”
“If she refused to marry you, she’s dumber than I thought—” Carly furrowed her brow. “Or there’s something else she wants. She just wants you to grovel. That’s what it is. She wants you to beg her to marry you. Or to declare your undying love—”
Jason had been heading for the stairs, intending to get a shower and ignore Carly, but those words stopped him in his tracks and he turned back. “What?”
“She wants something from you, of course. No woman would be dumb enough to turn you down. Especially not Elizabeth who has been running after you since she met you,” Carly spat. “You’re not giving her what she wants. Maybe it’s money—”
You’re not giving her what she wants. It was so simple, Jason really shouldn’t have needed Carly to point it out. “You’re right,” he said, and Carly was so stunned that she stopped in mid sentence.
“I am?” She cleared her throat. “Of course I am. So that’s why—”
“That’s why I can’t ask her to marry me again until I’m ready to give her what she wants,” Jason said. “Thank you, Carly. You’ve been a big help.” He took her by the elbow. “Now go home before you ruin it.”
“Uh, okay, but—”
Jason closed the door on her face, flipped the deadlock, and went upstairs to shower. He had to think about this before he took any more action.
30
Put my name at the top of your list
Jason stood just outside the double doors to the chapel, lingering in the anteroom of Queen of Angels, a bit unsure of himself as he watched the pews fill rapidly with members of the hospital staff and distant branches of the Quartermaine family. The front two pews had been left empty out of respect for the close family. Tracy had already passed by him, her arm in her father’s.
Edward looked as if he’d aged decades since Jason had seen him last, and it was hard to find the ruthless and cold man he’d battled after the accident. Monica had squeezed his hand and been glad to see him. She’d gone in with Ned and his ex-wife, Lois, and their daughter, Brooke.
But Jason couldn’t bring himself to sit down. To take a place in those front pews. To publicly proclaim a position of family, of relation, that he’d never taken when Alan was living.
“Hey.” Emily came around a corner, her eyes red. “I thought I saw you over here.” She touched a tissue to her eyes, forced herself to smile. “I was just washing my face. I can’t—” She swallowed, looked through the doors, and the tears were glimmering again in her eyes. “I could put it away for a while. The last few days. I made some calls for Mom. But mostly I just…” She closed her eyes. “I pretended he was at work, maybe. That it wasn’t real.”
Jason reached for his sister, drew her against him in a loose embrace. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he understood. He’d spent the last few days thinking about other things, but then Monica had called him with the time of the services, her voice hesitant. Would he come? All the confusion, the swirl of grief and numbness returned just like that. As if no time at all had passed since that terrible night in the hospital.
“I know you and Dad didn’t see eye to eye,” Emily said, drawing back so their eyes met. “But he loved you, Jason.”
“I know.”
“And somewhere, inside of you, I think you must have felt it.” Her smile faltered. “He didn’t always do the right thing. And he pushed too hard. He said things that hurt you. Especially after Michael was born—”
“Emily—”
“I wish we’d had more time. I wish he was here to meet your child. I think it would have changed things. Or maybe that’s just me wishing again.” She inhaled sharply, her breath shaky. “You’ll come in with me, won’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jason nodded. “Yeah. But I know Monica saved you a seat in the front. I’ll—” Stand in the back? He looked down the aisle, to the empty space in the second pew.
“Oh, good.” Emily stepped back, turned towards the door. “I wasn’t sure if she’d make it.”
Jason turned and everything felt steady inside again. Elizabeth was climbing the stairs, a black coat pulled over an equally dark dress, one hand over her belly. He broke away from Emily, thinking he’d help her up the stairs—
But she was already there. “Sorry. Cam had a hard time going down for his nap. He didn’t want Gram to read him a story. It had to be me.”
“You’re just in time. We’re going in.” Emily hugged her. “I’m with Mom, and you and Jason can sit behind us.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him and he knew what she was thinking. The news of their child’s paternity had spread, but this would be the first time most people had seen her since the hostage crisis—and it would be at his father’s funeral? Sitting with him?
He nearly told her she didn’t have to—he didn’t want her to feel obligated or pressured—but then he did something he rarely did when Elizabeth was involved. He spoke what was in his mind. “I’d like that,” Jason told her.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, but there was a warmth there, and he knew he’d made the right choice. “Okay. Of course.”
He took her hand and they trailed behind Emily as his sister walked down the aisle to join Monica and Edward in the front pew. Jason waited while Elizabeth sat down, and then sat at the end of the second pew.
There was a casket in front of them, and belatedly, Jason realized it was an open one. Alan lay there, his eyes closed. Beside a podium, there was a large photograph of his father, smiling as he hugged Emily at her medical school graduation.
Alan had wanted that future for him, Jason remembered, thinking of a conversation long ago, mere weeks after the accident. In the Quartermaine gym. Alan had opened up to him about what it meant for Jason to follow him into medicine, and Jason remembered feeling close to him in that moment, a fleeting emotion that he’d buried.
He swallowed hard, as he thought of that moment and others over the last eleven years—there were more harsh than good, but they were all he’d ever have. There was no turning back the clock. No time, no chance, no extra time.
For just a second, Jason wished he could go back to that day, to the moment he’d almost connected with his father, and be softer. To be kinder to the family that was grieving the boy who had never come home.
Elizabeth slid her hand into his, and he looked at her. Her eyes were damp and he wondered if she was thinking about regrets the way he was. If she was thinking of all the maybes and what ifs. The roads not taken. The choices he’d run from.
Her fingers tightened around his and the tightness in his chest eased as he looked forward again as Father Coates stepped up to begin the services.
31
This is the last time I’m asking you why
He didn’t run after the service, though he thought about it. He sat and listened as Father Coates delivered a eulogy, as Monica wept through the memories of her marriage—the good, the bad, and the ugly—as Emily broke down in front of the casket as she tried to talk about her father—and as Edward went up to the casket after the services had ended. Jason had wondered if the old man would be able to walk away.
He offered Elizabeth a ride to the mansion and she accepted, though they didn’t speak in the car. He didn’t know what to say, and maybe she could sense that because she remained quiet, too.
When he’d parked in the driveway, and helped her out, he finally broke the silence. “Go inside,” Jason said. “I, uh—” He looked away, towards the gardens. “I wanted to take a walk.”
“I’ll go with you.” Elizabeth closed the car door and wound her arm through his. “If you don’t mind.”
He didn’t. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be around people. Not just yet. And not here. But Elizabeth wasn’t just anyone.
They walked through the quiet, dormant rose gardens, and Jason tried to remember the last time he’d been here. Not after Lila had passed, no. But surely he’d made time before that—
“I haven’t been here since I came home,” Jason said, suddenly, stopping in the middle of a path.
Elizabeth had walked a few extra steps before realizing that he had stopped, and she turned to look at him, questions in her eyes. “After you were gone for that year?” she wanted to know. “You came to see Lila—”
“In the house. But not here.” He paused, looking around, wishing he was better at picturing things. That he had Elizabeth’s artistic gifts. He couldn’t remember what it looked like, bright with life. What Lila looked like, sitting amongst her beloved roses. “She loved it here.”
“I know. She used to invite me to tea even after Emily left.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “She was special.”
“She was the first person I ever loved,” Jason murmured. “The first person who felt like family. She taught me what that was. Then Emily. Robin and Sonny, that was different, but Grandmother—” He shook his head. “I keep thinking about the weeks I lived here after the accident. We were all so angry.”
“Jason—”
“I destroyed his—my—” he corrected gently. “I destroyed my room. Evidence of a life I didn’t remember, and Monica lost her temper. She was furious with me—I destroyed things she couldn’t replace.” He turned to look back at the house, wondering what that room looked like now. “They were strangers to me, and they kept looking for someone else. I couldn’t see they were grieving, too—”
“It’s easy to be hard on yourself with hindsight,” she reminded him. “Yes, they were grieving the boy they’d raised, but you were doing the best you could. I didn’t know you then, but I know that you’re not cruel—”
“You’d be surprised,” Jason murmured, but she shook her head. “I did things I knew would make them angry—”
“And your father and grandfather attempted to have you declared an unfit parent to take custody of Michael,” Elizabeth said. Jason exhaled slowly. “You’re looking back with regret, Jason, and that’s good. But don’t pretend that your family didn’t do things that hurt you, too. You hurt each other.” She tipped her head. “At the end, did Alan blame you?”
“No.” Jason struggled to speak, to force the words out. “No. He blamed himself. It’s a parent job to keep trying. To make their child feel loved. He was sorry for giving up.”
“My parents gave up, too, but I’m not sure they’ll have regrets on their deathbed.” Her smile was faint. “I was scared when I got pregnant the first time. What kind of parent would I be? All I knew was what I didn’t want to be.”
“You’re an amazing mother,” he told her. “Cameron adores you.”
“And you’re an amazing father. Michael was lucky to have you. This baby—” Elizabeth reached for his hand, rested it on her belly. Jason smiled as he felt a strong kick against his palm. “This baby,” she continued, “will be lucky to have you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason said. She drew her brows together. “For asking you to marry me because you were pregnant. You’re right. Marriage is more than that. And I don’t want you to ever think that all I care about is the baby.”
“I didn’t think that,” Elizabeth assured him. “I know you want to be involved. To be a full-time father. I don’t know what that looks like, but I promise, we’ll make it work.”
“I know.” Reluctantly, he let his hand drop to his side, though he could have felt their child kick all day long. He thought about his conversation with Carly, what he knew Elizabeth wanted before she’d consider marry him. Undying love. Could he offer that? Was he ready? He didn’t know that answer to that, but she deserved to know how important she was to him. How did he put it into words?
“Last year,” Jason began slowly, and she looked at him, their eyes meeting. Holding. “I don’t know exactly how it happened—how we got our friendship back—but I’m glad we did. I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she smiled. “My life is always better when you’re in it,” she said, and he returned the smile. “There’s no one else I want to raise this baby with.”
32
You break my heart in the blink of an eye
Emily felt her mother tense next to her, and she twisted, thinking that Monica had over heard Tracy saying something—
But it was nothing so dire—only her mother watching as Jason came through the front door, turning slightly to make sure Elizabeth made it over the threshold without slipping. They ignored the eyes on them as he removed her coat, then handed it to Alice, along with his own.
Then they made their way across the foyer to Emily and Monica. “I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, offering a hand to Monica. “Alan was such a wonderful chief of staff. I didn’t think anyone could live up to Gramps, but he stepped in like the position was made for him.”
“He was so honored to be asked to take over for Steve.” Monica squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “And your grandfather would be proud of you carrying the Hardy/Webber legacy into the future.” She looked to Jason. “Thank you so much for coming today. I know it’s not your favorite place in the world, but it meant a lot.”
“Thank you for asking me,” Jason told her.
“Alan’s will is being read in the next few days,” Monica continued. “He left you something, so I hope you’ll come.”
Jason shifted uncomfortably, but then nodded. “Yeah—Yes. I’ll be there.”
33
This is the last time you tell me I’ve got it wrong
The house was stuffy and crowded, so Jason made sure that Elizabeth was settled with Emily who promised to make sure she’d get her something to eat—and he escaped back into the fresh air on the terrace.
He realized too late that his grandfather was standing by the railing, looking over Lila’s gardens. He nearly went back inside, but Edward turned, and they stared at each other for a long time.
“Monica says you were there at the end,” Edward said, finally.
Jason nodded cautiously. “Emily and I were both able to talk to him.”
“Good. Good. I’m glad. He, uh, had a lot of regrets. You get older, and you start—” Edward slid a hand down his suit jacket, his voice trembling for just a moment before he continuing. “You start to think about the things that you could have done better. My list is—well, it’s endless. No surprise there.” He waited a beat. “You’ll be a father soon, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Jason said. “In May.”
“Spring.” Edward closed his eyes. “It’s a good time. Fresh starts.” He turned back to the gardens. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said abruptly. Furiously. “Burying a son? Preposterous. It should have been me. It should have been me instead of my Lila.”
Edward’s hands gripped the railing tightly and he bent over. “I shouldn’t be here. None of us should.”
“No,” Jason agreed, coming to stand next to him. His grandfather looked at him with surprise, and Jason was startled to see the old man’s eyes were damp. “But Grandmother wouldn’t want you to say things like that.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” he murmured. “I often wish I’d had an ounce of her heart. Of her grace. I’d have been a better man.”
“I think we all would be if we could be like her.” The silence drew out between them. “But she loved us anyway.”
“Yes, she did. Even when we didn’t deserve it. I rarely did.” Edward cleared his throat. “We—we pushed too hard. After the accident. We thought—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what we thought. I never expected you to stand up the way you did, to walk away. To stay away. You never would have before.”
“No, I guess not. But I’m not that different now,” Jason found himself saying. “I just found another family to be loyal to.”
“I suppose there’s truth in that.” Edward sighed. “I took my family for granted. I thought I could never push them too far—that I could always bring them back. But there’s no bringing my boy back, is there?”
It wasn’t a question that needed answering, so Jason didn’t bother. “We can’t bring him back,” he said slowly, “but I’d like my child to know who he was. Will—” Edward stared at him, hope in his eyes. “Will you help me?”
“Of course. Of course.” His craggy face broke into a smile. “Try and stop me.”
34
This is the last time I say it’s been you all along
Elizabeth’s energy was flagging by the time Jason pulled up to the curb at her grandmother’s. She was relieved to see that her car, which she’d driven to the church, was parked in the driveway just as Jason had promised.
“I should have brought you home earlier,” Jason said with a wince as he helped her out of the car and steadied her over a leftover patch of ice on the sidewalk. He kept a hand at the small of her back as they walked towards the house.
“I’m fine,” she promised. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t take care of—”
“But Kelly said—”
“Light bed rest,” Elizabeth finished. She stopped at the door and smiled at him. “She didn’t want me working doubles. I’m off the schedule, and Epiphany is putting me on paperwork when I go back next week.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’ve got it handled. You can take care of yourself—”
“But you worry,” she finished. She touched his forearm and their eyes met. “I wanted to be there today. For you and Emily. I’m glad I could be.”
“Me, too.” He opened his mouth, then hesitated for a moment. “Monica—you heard her invite me to the will reading. Um—would you—I mean—”
“I’ll go with you,” Elizabeth agreed almost instantly, even though her own conscience was twinging at her. Was it really a good idea to spend so much time with Jason? To be at his side as he grieved his father? They were friends, and she wanted to keep the easy, almost effortless connection they’d shared today—it reminded her of the early days of their relationship, when they’d been able to talk about anything and everything under the sun. But it also made her want more. To wish she’d said yes even when no had been the better answer.
But Jason had always—always— been there for her, even when it hadn’t been easy. She wouldn’t turn away now just to make it easier for herself.
“I have an appointment with Kelly,” Elizabeth said. “Next week,” she added. “It’s the third trimester check-in—um, I thought you might want to go.”
“Of course,” Jason said immediately, and she was happy to see some of the lingering grief easing from his expression at the thought of the baby. His eyes dropped to her belly, peeking through the folds of the coat she’d left unbuttoned after leaving the Quartermaines. The baby shifted, and Elizabeth reached for his hand so he could feel the kick. Jason smiled, his hand warm against her body. “What does that feel like?” he wanted to know.
“You’ve been kicked in the ribs, haven’t you?” she said dryly, and his smile deepened into a grin.
“Just three more months,” he murmured. His hand fell away, and they stared at one another for another moment before Elizabeth finally cleared her throat and reached into her purse for her keys.
“I should get inside,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later.”
35
This is the last time I let you in my door
The lawyer had no sooner closed his mouth then Tracy had turned to Jason with a scowl etched into her already permanently sour features. “At least you broke up with the gold digger,” she snipped.
Monica narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, but Tracy had already looked at her next victim, the quietly weeping Skye Chandler-Quartermaine. “And you! You’re not part of this family!” She got to her feet. “How dare he leave anything to you—”
“Tracy,” Edward said gruffly, struggling to his feet. “Don’t start—”
“ELQ should stay in the family,” Tracy cut in sharply. “I told you years ago—”
“Those shares were Alan’s to distribute as he pleased,” Monica retorted. “You have no right—”
Emily leaned back in her chair as the fight continued, rolling her eyes. “Dad had to know he was going to make Tracy’s head explode,” she said dryly to Jason, and to Elizabeth. Jason grimaced. While he’d come around on most of the Quartermaines, he’d had limited exposure to Tracy and didn’t care for her.
“It was lovely of Alan to leave something to his grandchildren,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Emily’s hand. “I’m just sorry there’s not a way to change it for you—”
“It’s fine. I have my own shares for whatever kids I have,” Emily said. “But it’s great that your baby gets to have something from Dad, isn’t it?” she asked Jason.
“Uh, yeah. I guess.” He was still reeling from the rest of the bequest — Alan had left large trust funds for all four of his children — and the lawyer had corrected himself — that the trusts had been adjusted after AJ’s death two years earlier. Which meant that Alan had never taken Jason out of his will. Jason didn’t need the money — but his father hadn’t really given up on him. Not all the way. “I don’t need the money, so I’ll give it to you—”
“No, Dad wanted you to have it—” Emily stopped as Skye stormed out of the room with Tracy hot on her heels. Ned and Edward reluctantly followed, but Monica stayed behind, her eyes still hot with irritation.
“That woman,” Monica muttered before looking at Jason and Emily. “I’m sorry for that.”
“There’s no apologizing for Tracy,” Emily said. She rose to her feet. “She is what she is. I almost feel sorry for her. She’s so obsessed with ELQ, she can’t even see how much she’s losing.”
“Maybe you should give Skye some of your shares,” Elizabeth suggested with a wicked grin, and Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Don’t tempt me.”
In the car, Jason was still unsure how he felt about an inheritance from Alan, from a father he didn’t know. He waited until Elizabeth had fastened her seatbelt and flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m going to put the money in a trust,” Jason said suddenly. “For the kids.”
“The kids?” Elizabeth echoed.
“Mine. The baby.” Jason paused. “And Cameron.” And any other children in the future, but he didn’t say that. “I don’t need it. And—” And he wondered if Alan would have been a good grandfather. If it would have been a bridge between them— “And I don’t want them to ever worry about anything.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Elizabeth told him softly. “I don’t expect you to—”
“I know. But I want to.” He turned the key in the ignition, resolute. “So I’ll call Diane and get it done.”
36
This is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore
Cameron bounced out of his grandmother’s lap and made a beeline for his mother as Jason held the door open for her. He wrapped his arms around her leg. “Mommy, Mommy, I missed you. You bring home my new brother? Where is he?”
“Not here yet,” Elizabeth said, wishing she could scoop him up in her arms—she could have done that even a few weeks ago, but over the last few days, her energy had dropped to almost nothing. Her bones felt as if they’d been replaced by sludge and she was trying to swim through it.
Jason closed the door behind her and put a hand at her waist. “Let’s sit down,” he told Cameron. “So you can sit with Mommy.”
“Okay.” Cameron grinned at him, then went back to his grandmother who had risen, worry in her eyes.
“Is everything all right, darling?” Audrey asked as she took Cameron’s hand and gently steered him away until Jason had helped Elizabeth take a seat.
“Nothing. Just a bit tired—” Elizabeth caught Jason’s eye, and sighed. “I’m a little anemic,” she admitted. “Kelly’s running some tests, but it just means I’m more tired. And I’m taking early maternity leave.” She wrinkled her nose at that. “Epiphany and Bobbie put their heads together, I think, and decided that even paperwork would be too much.”
Audrey didn’t argue with that idea, and Elizabeth knew her grandmother was thinking of the arguments they’d had about her double shifts and pushing so hard last fall — Elizabeth hadn’t known what else to do. She’d needed the money — and the distraction.
“The good news is that we had another ultrasound and this time the baby had turned enough to see—” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her belly. “Cameron was right. It’s a boy.”
“Oh!” Audrey’s worry shifted into delight. “How lovely.”
“Yay! I get a brother! No icky girls.” Cameron made a retching noise, and Elizabeth smiled.
“I think a little girl would have been nice,” Audrey told him. “But we’re quite happy with a healthy baby at the end of the day. So more bed rest?”
“Still light,” Elizabeth said, with a nod. “But yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’ll do some more vitamins, she might have me check in overnight to get some iron supplements.” She grimaced. “I should go lay down.”
She held out her hand for Jason to help her up, but he decided not to bother with any of that. Instead, he put her arm around his neck and lifted her. “Jason, I’m way too heavy—”
“Not even close to what I bench press,” he said, his breathing not even changing. “No stairs,” he reminded her.
She decided not to argue and laid her head against his shoulder. She was asleep before they even reached the top of the stairs.
37
This is the last time I’m asking you this
“Well, it’s nice to finally find you at home,” Carly muttered, stalking past Jason. He sighed, closed the door behind her. “Do you know how many times I’ve been stopped in the lobby over the last two weeks and told you’re not at home?”
“You could call first,” Jason suggested, returning to the desk where he’d been signing paperwork.
“You always send me to voicemail.” She folded her arms. “I just wanted to check in. You know, see how you were since the funeral. You should have called. I would have gone with you.”
The thought of Carly at his father’s funeral considering her history with the family seemed almost laughable, but Jason said nothing. He didn’t want to start a fight. “I was fine.”
“Still. I hate that you don’t let me be there for you. Refusing to let your real friends take care of you when you’re down is how bottom feeders get into your life like Sam and—”
“Carly—”
“And I know you don’t think she’s manipulating you, but I know she is. That’s why you’re never here,” Carly accused. “You’re with her.”
Jason ignored her, continued to scribble his signature and initials on pages marked by his lawyer. He wanted to get these filed and then he’d head back to the Hardy house to check on Elizabeth.
“I can’t wait for this kid to be born so you can just—” Carly made a face. “Get a custody agreement and you’re not around her all the time. Eventually, you’re going to break and propose again, I just know it, and she’s not going to be stupid enough to—”
“Carly.” Jason just looked at her and she closed her mouth. “Is there something you wanted?”
“You know I’m right, okay—” She’d drifted closer to the desk, glanced at the papers there. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s all that? That’s Elizabeth’s name—are you giving her money? Jason!”
He sighed, set down the pen, faced her. “Alan left me a trust fund. And ELQ shares for my first child.”
“Oh. Well, that’s…unexpected. But nice of him. I know you have regrets, and I’m sorry about that. I still don’t see what that has to do with Elizabeth—”
“I’m creating a new trust fund,” Jason interrupted. “For my children. And Elizabeth will be the executor if I’m not able to. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, but—what children? Are you—” Carly narrowed her eyes. “I knew it. I knew she’d find a way to get her claws into you. Children. You’re giving Cameron money.”
“Yes. And that’s my decision. It’s my money, Carly. I can do what I want with it.”
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to take care of someone else’s kid—”
Jason’s hands froze in the act of shuffling the papers into a neat pile, and he lifted his gaze to hers. “He’s not someone else’s kid. He’s Cameron. He’s Elizabeth’s son, and my child’s brother. I put up with a lot from you, Carly, but that’s the last time you’re ever going to talk about him like that, do you understand me?”
She exhaled slowly. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way—I just—I don’t know why Elizabeth told you no all those times you asked her to marry her. I figured she was holding out for something else and maybe this is it. Maybe she wanted you to see that she could give you more than one kid—”
“I took your advice, Carly, you should be grateful.”
“My advice?”
“You told me not to ask her again until I was sure I could give her what she wanted.”
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “I don’t understand.”
“I know what she wants. What she deserves.” He slid the paperwork back in the envelope. “Thank you. I might have kept pushing and hurting her if you hadn’t suggested that. But I’m waiting until it’s right. So, thanks—”
Her mouth dropped. “That is not what I meant at all! You completely misunderstood what I was trying to say!”
“I know. That’s the only way anyone should take your advice.” He steered her towards to the door. “Thanks for stopping by.”
38
Put my name at the top of your list
Elizabeth scribbled her name at the bottom of the clipboard, then accepted the manila envelope. “Thanks,” she said absently, closing the door.
“Who was it?” her grandmother asked, holding open the kitchen door. She gestured for Cameron to move into the living room. “Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?” Elizabeth glanced up, blinked. “Oh. It was the courier my lawyer uses.” She slid her finger beneath the metal pin, folded it back. “She told to expect a delivery today.”
“Ah.” Audrey clasped her hands in front of her, waited as Elizabeth tugged the papers loose. “Is it from the court?”
“Yes. My divorce is final.” She slid her fingers over the words proclaiming her marriage was over. Her second husband. Her fourth divorce. The smile that curved her lips was a pained one. She raised her gaze to her grandmother. “It’s over. For good this time. I know I’ve said that before, but—”
“But,” Audrey repeated with a nod. “I know. I’m sorry, darling. I know it’s what you wanted, and it’s the right choice. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t a sad day.”
“I thought I’d let go of that dream so many times, Gram.” Elizabeth braced a hand at her back, stepped down from the landing at the entryway. Her eyes found a photo on the mantel — a double-sided frame. On the left, a photo of their first Valentine’s Day when he’d brought her white roses and spoken vows in a church. And the right, the day they’d spoken those vows at Wyndemere.
“From almost the day I moved here, Lucky Spencer has been at the center of my life. It was so hard to let it go. Impossible, I thought. But to cling to it now would only make it harder to look back with any fondness. I want to remember those days with nostalgia, not regret.” Elizabeth returned the papers to the envelope, set it on the desk. “It’s a door I never should have opened again, and I’m glad it’s done now. Lucky and Lulu are going to London to be with Laura. There’s a new treatment, Emily said. I hope he finds happiness.”
“So do I, darling.” Audrey swept Elizabeth’s hair back, stroking her cheek. “But now it’s time to focus on you. On your future. Wherever it takes you.”
39
This is the last time I’m asking you why
He knew, even before Kelly had sat at the desk and opened her mouth, he knew that something was wrong. The doctor’s expression was grave, her dark eyes sober, the usually smiling mouth pinched.
Elizabeth’s hand twitched in his, and Jason tightened his grip on it, as if he could somehow stop whatever was going to happen, turn back time so that whatever Kelly was about to say, it wouldn’t happen.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything,” Kelly said. “Let me just start there.”
“Kelly—”
“The ultrasound revealed that you’ve developed placenta previa. It explains the spotting you told me about,” Kelly continued, but Jason barely heard those words. Everything had stopped after placenta previa.
The same condition that had led to the death of Sam’s daughter. Elizabeth now had it—
“What do we do? Do we deliver now?” Elizabeth’s other hand rested on her belly, protectively covering their son. “I can check in today. I’ll check in now—” She flicked her gaze to Jason, and he saw his own fear reflected back. Of course. She’d been there that terrible day. She knew what could happen.
“It’s still early,” Kelly reminded her. “Right now, it’s just marginal. That can and often does resolve on its own before the baby’s due date.”
“But it doesn’t always,” Jason said tightly and Elizabeth’s friend looked at him. “Placental abruption. That’s what can happen.”
“It can. I—”
“Jason’s lost…” Elizabeth hesitated, and Kelly dipped her eyes. Of course, she’d been Sam’s doctor the year before. She knew Sam’s history.
“I know what you’re worried about, and I promise you, I’m not discounting that possibility. But I don’t deal in what-ifs. We’ve caught it very early, Elizabeth. And there’s no reason to believe that it’ll progress to the worst case scenario. Especially if you take precautions.”
“Bed rest,” Elizabeth said. “But not light this time.”
“The only time I want you up and moving is if you’re coming to a doctor’s appointment. Weekly ultrasounds from here until you hit week thirty-six,” Kelly said. “No more lifting Cameron. No stairs.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes. “Is this because of the hotel? What happened?”
“It could be a factor,” Kelly said. “Your body went through a lot of stress that night. But it happens to women who lead perfectly normal lives. You did nothing wrong, Elizabeth. We’ll follow the treatment plan, and hope for the best which is giving that baby all the development time he deserves.”
“Whatever she needs, I’ll get it. I’ll make sure of it,” Jason said, already rearranging his life in his head. No stairs, so that would be his responsibility to get her up and down when she’d need it. No lifting, so he’d need to be there for Cameron—
“Jason—”
He brought their joined hands to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “I’m here. We’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
40
You break my heart in the blink of an eye
The fear could be paralyzing, Elizabet thought. The what ifs and maybes could haunt every moment if they let them.
“You can’t carry me everywhere,” she said as Jason gently set her down on her grandmother’s sofa, her fingers trailing over the shoulder of his gray t-shirt, sliding over the collar as he let her go and straightened to face Audrey’s worried expression.
“You can keep saying that, but it’s not going to be true.” His words sounded light, but the tone was anything but. She could hear the worry in them, feel the fear in the tense, tight muscles.
“Sit. Let’s talk about this.” She straightened, trying to sit up against the pillows. “Gram—”
“Placenta previa is a common, treatable, and controllable condition,” Audrey said briskly. She cleared her throat, then sat in her husband’s old chair, perching on the edge. “Kelly is quite correct. It often resolves itself, and bed rest can do a great deal of good. I remember working with patients when you were no more than a child.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, then reached up to tug on Jason’s hand. “Sit,” she repeated, and he sat on the sofa, next to her legs. “You’re scared. I know that. I know why. Gram—” She looked to her grandmother. “A few years ago—”
“I know what happened to Sam McCall’s daughter,” Audrey said. “And that is every doctor’s nightmare. Placental abruption at that grade with no hint of the condition prior? It’s almost always fatal for the child. For the mother. I can only imagine what’s going through your mind, Jason.”
Jason blinked at Audrey, almost bewildered at the kindness in Audrey’s the tone, the warmth of her expression—directed at him. And Elizabeth realized with a start how lonely it must be to always expect the worst from everyone. Jason had always pretended he didn’t care about any of that — but it wasn’t true, was it?
“I thought—” He paused. “You can’t lift Cameron anymore. I know that’s what you’ll hate the most.”
She laced their fingers together. “I will. He’s already so big now, I’m scared every time I pick him up it’ll be the last time.”
“I’ll be here. Every day. If it’s okay. I can lift him for you. Or anything else you need.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and Elizabeth looked at her grandmother, measuring her reaction.
“I think that’s the best solution honestly,” Audrey said. “There’s an extra guest room. Why don’t you take that?”
“Yes,” Jason said immediately. “I can do that.” He looked at Elizabeth, reached for her hand. “I’ll talk to Sonny. I’ll take a leave of absence—” He swallowed hard. “We’ll get through this.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I trust Kelly. And you. And Gram. This baby—our little boy—he’s all that matters now.”
41
This is the last time I’m asking you this
This is the last time I’m asking you this
“Hey.” Emily embraced him, and Jason clung to her, holding her tight. “How are you holding up? How’s Elizabeth?”
He stepped back, allowing her full entry to the Hardy house, closing the door. Even after a few days of sleeping in the guest room, he was still not comfortable treating it like his own, though Audrey Hardy had been nothing but welcoming and kind.
Elizabeth was restless, bored, and tired. She spent too many hours watching reality television and slipping in and out of sleep. The only highlights in her day were Cameron, who rushed home from school every day to cuddle next to her (always lifted up to the bed by Jason) and talk about his day.
Cameron liked eating breakfast and dinner in bed, and his delight made those meals easier. But the weeks ahead still stretched out like one long waking nightmare of worrying and constantly being on the edge—
“She’s napping right now. Or she was when I checked on her.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, restless. Weary. Sleep didn’t come easy these days. What if he missed a sound? What if she called for him and he didn’t hear?
“Oh, I should have called. When I’ll peek in and see if she’s up to a visit.” Emily tipped her head. “But you didn’t tell me how you were. I know you must be scared right now.”
“I’m good.” He couldn’t focus on himself, on his worries, on the thoughts he was trying to keep out. “Mrs. Hardy let me take the guest room, so I can be here all the time.”
“Jason.” His sister’s eyes saw too much and he had to look away, stare down at the weathered hardwood floor. “You can say anything to me, you know.”
“She could die. They both could. Or we could lose the baby.” And how could he handle that? How could he bury another child, lost the same way—only worse because this one shared his blood, and he’d created it with Elizabeth, he’d found her again, this baby had brought them together, but if they lost him—
“You could. Or they could both survive and go on to be completely healthy,” Emily pointed out. She rubbed his shoulder. “I like that future better, and it’s more likely that we get that one. Have you talked about names? Since you found it was a boy?”
“Yeah.” There’d been no talking, Jason thought. Elizabeth had learned the baby was a boy, and she’d immediately told Jason their child was going to be Jake. He rubbed his chest, walked towards the sofa, stopped, then paced back. “We, um, decided on Jacob. Jake.”
“That’s a great idea. I love that. Jake. Good. We have three more weeks until Jake is here.” Emily smiled at him. “We’ll put one foot in front of the other until he’s here with us. And I’ll be right here, Jason. You can lean on me.”
42
Put my name at the top of your list
Put my name at the top of your list
“He’s not here again? Oh my God—” Carly rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t they just tell me that downstairs?”
She folded her arms, glared at Spinelli. “Are you going to answer me?”
“The Jackal was unaware that the Valkyrie was done speaking,” the tech said, tapping at a few keys. When there was no answer, he looked over at the acerbic blonde. If looks could kill — he wasn’t supposed to be giving out Stone Cold’s information, but well, it was the Valkyrie, and if she wasn’t told, she might go out stomping for answers.
Spinelli carefully lowered the lid of his laptop. “Stone Cold has, ah, temporarily relocated his lodgings to another domicile—”
“He moved in with her? Oh, that conniving—” Carly whirled around, started for the door.
Spinelli leapt up, darted around her, and flattened himself against the door like a desperate man. “No, no, the Valkyrie mustn’t disturb them—”
She gritted her teeth. “Damn it—”
“The Maternal One has been laid low by a most serious complication, and Stone Cold has devoted himself to her care and to their progeny—”
“The baby’s in danger?” Carly’s arms fell to her side. “How? What happened?”
“Stone Cold says it is placenta previa. The Jackal has researched it to the fullest — the placenta is attached low in the uterus, covering the—”
“I know what it is,” Carly broke in, but the ire in her voice had faded. “How bad is it?”
Spinelli straightened, cleared his throat, relieved that he had done the impossible and fought the Valkyrie back behind the gates. “With bed rest and careful monitoring, the doctors have assured Stone Cold that there is every chance the situation will resolve itself. But—”
“But Elizabeth needs strict bed rest. And she has a toddler.” Carly sighed, looked at the ceiling. “The universe is conspiring against me to keep that woman in his life. Every time I think I’ve seen the last of her, there she is again.”
“Perhaps the Valkyrie shouldn’t fight Fate?” Spinelli suggested hopefully.
43
This is the last time I’m asking you why
This is the last time I’m asking you why
Elizabeth planted both hands against the mattress, trying to sit up, but before she could get very far, Jason was there, his hands lifting her higher against the pillows.
“I would have made it eventually,” she grumbled, as Jason retrieved her dinner tray from the dresser where he’d set it, then laid it over her legs. “Cameron okay?”
“Yeah, he’s having chicken nuggets with your grandmother.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Apparently, spinach and chicken isn’t his favorite meal.” The corner of Jason’s mouth lifted. “Or yours, apparently, from the look on your face.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a three year-old. After I have this baby, I’m eating nothing but Eli’s ribs for a month, and you can’t stop me,” she muttered, unwrapping the utensils. “But until then, my body belongs to Jake.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason told her. “I know you hate sitting still. Doing nothing.”
She pushed the wilted greens around the plate. “Hating it won’t change anything. I have the rest of my life to walk around. Jake comes first.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Thank you. For coming to stay. For being so good with Cameron. I know this isn’t your idea of a good time either.”
Jason opened his mouth, then shook his head, looked away. She frowned. “What?”
“I don’t like that you’re—that this is happening. The why—” His mouth pinched. “The why isn’t good. But I…don’t mind the rest of it.”
“The rest of it?” she echoed, laying her fork down.
“Taking care of you,” Jason told her, meeting her eyes. “Spending time with Cameron. It’s—I wanted to do that anyway. So…” He cleared his throat. “Carly came by today. Spinelli told her what was going on.”
Elizabeth tipped her head. “I’m sure she had a lot to say about you staying here.”
“Actually—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “She wanted to remind you that she’s been trying to get rid of you for years, and you’re still around, so that should count for something.”
Elizabeth blinked, then snorted before breaking out to giggles, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh, she absolutely would say something like that. God, she’s hated me forever, it must be killing her to be even remotely nice.”
“I thought you’d appreciate it.”
She picked at her dinner some more, then Jason took away the tray. When he came back, he wasn’t alone. Cameron was dressed in his fire engine red pajamas and was dragging his current favorite book, Chuggin’ Charlie Rides Again!
“Story time, Mommy,” he told her, but waited patiently for Jason to lift him up onto the bed next to Elizabeth. He shimmied up to her side, handed her the book. “You read.”
This was her favorite part of the day, Elizabeth thought, as Jason sat on the edge of the bed, listening to her do the voices for Cameron and their baby, tucked away safely inside. They just had to make it a few more weeks.
44
You break my heart in the blink of an eye
You break my heart in the blink of an eye
The room was dark when Jason woke, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains over the window in Audrey’s guest room. He sat up, unsure what exactly had jolted him awake. He listened to the house around him—had there been a footstep, a door? Unsettled, Jason slid out of bed, and went to the door. It was still silent, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was needed.
Jason heard the rustle of her bed sheets as he approached her room, just across the hall and next to the bathroom. Elizabeth always left her door a little bit open, a habit she’d developed when Cameron had started to walk, and would need her in the middle of the night. Jason tapped lightly on the door, pushing it open. “Hey. Are you all right?”
Elizabeth’s voice was tight and pained when she managed to respond. “I—I have a cramp. In my back and I can’t—I can’t turn—”
He was inside the room before she’d finished speaking. She was laying flat on her back, the curve of her belly rising above the sheets. Jason hesitated for just a minute to discern the best approach, then climbed onto the bed, to the other side.
“Here,” Jason said, looping one of her arms over his neck. “I’ve got you—” he gently helped her to sit up, leaning back against him, his legs parted so that she rested comfortably between them. “Where is the cramp?” he asked, gently pressing against the curve of her spine. “Tell me when—”
“The lower—” She let out a long moan, ending on almost a purr. “Oh, right there. That’s—” Her head tilted back, falling against his shoulder and her silky hair slid across his bare chest. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he murmured. She turned her face so that their eyes met. Elizabeth licked her lips, and he glanced down at them. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and her lips twitched.
“For a beached whale,” she said, but he didn’t want her to brush off the way she made him feel. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. He leaned in, brushed his mouth against hers. She tensed in his arms, and he thought he’d made a mistake, but then she raised her hand to curve around his neck, sliding her fingers to his hair.
It was a long, soft, slow kiss, not unlike the last one they’d shared the morning she’d left his penthouse all those months ago.
When Jason drew back, she smiled him, a bit hesitantly. “What was that?”
“Something I’ve wanted for months.”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes, leaned her head against his jaw. She said nothing else, and Jason let the moment pass.
His arm had circled her middle, strong and warm against her. Elizabeth laid her own over his, the tips of her fingers just brushing his hand. Her eyes drifted close. “Mmmm, I could fall asleep just like this.”
“Go ahead.”
Her lashes fluttered and she smiled again. “You really mean that. You’d let me sleep just like, half-sitting up, because it’s the most comfortable I’ve felt in weeks.” She started to move forward, but Jason tightened his hold on her.
“Wait, let me just…” He looped her arm around his neck again, then scooted back until Jason was sitting against the headboard, and she was laying against him. “There. How’s that?”
“I’m too tired and comfortable to argue.” Elizabeth reached for his both arms, wrapped them around her middle, holding onto them, and closed her eyes. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position Jason had ever slept in, but when he woke again a few hours later to the sun peeking around the drawn shades, Elizabeth was still sleeping, tucked in his arms, exactly where she belonged.
After that, Jason started sleeping in her room every night, telling himself—and Audrey—that she might need him in the middle of the night, and he could help her get into more comfortable positions to sleep. Which almost always ended up just like this — Jason sitting up, and Elizabeth leaning against him, and that suited him just fine.
Just a few more weeks to go.
45
This is the last time I’m asking you
“A few more days,” Elizabeth said, rubbing her belly. “Just a few more days, Jake, so if you could stop kicking Mommy in the ribs, that would be great.” She glanced up as Jason entered the room, leaving the door cracked enough in case Cameron woke up. “Your son is trying to fracture my ribs.”
Already clad in his gray sweatpants, Jason came around the other side of the bed, pushed the comforter back. He switched off the light on his side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness. “My son?” he echoed. “You’re the one that kicks in her sleep.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted with surprise, and she playfully punched him in the arm. “I do not, take that back!”
“And you steal the blankets,” he continued, sliding into bed next to her. He covered her hand over her belly. “A few more days until we check in for delivery.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against Jason. He curled his arm around her, stroking her shoulder, the top of her head resting against his jaw. “I know I basically told you we were naming him Jacob, but I was wondering—” she hesitated. “What you’d think about Alan. For his middle name.”
Jason didn’t speak for a moment. “I don’t know if I have the right to do that.”
She reached for his hand, laced her fingers through his. “I think that your father loved you, and he told you that he wished he’d never given up trying to make you see that. Do you think Alan would say you didn’t have the right?”
Jason closed his eyes. “No. No, I think he’d have liked it. All right. Jacob Alan.”
“I love that his name will honor so much of who we are. Your father, Morgan was your grandmother’s maiden name, and of course, Jake’s, the place where we met—”
“I knew you before that night—”
“Did you?” She tilted her head back and he looked down at her. “You knew facts about me, sure, just like I knew you were Emily’s scary older brother. But that night, you became Jason.”
“That’s true,” he acknowledged. “So, the night we met.”
“And all the time we spent there, mostly me wishing you’d kiss me,” she murmured. He wrapped his other arm around her, almost hugging me. “Though maybe we don’t tell Jake that part.”
“Yeah, maybe not. I don’t think Jake wants to know all the things I imagined doing to you in that room.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm, the nails digging in for just a moment. “That is not a fair thing to say to a woman who’s nine months pregnant.”
“So I should say it after?” His lips brushed her temple and she closed her eyes. “Is it okay then?”
“Um. Yeah. That’ll be fine,” Elizabeth managed.
“I’ll remember that.”
46
Last time I’m asking you
Last time I’m asking you this
A stabbing pain jerked Elizabeth out of sleep—her belly tightened like a belt had been wrapped around it, and then loosened only for the stabbing to return— “Oh—!”
Before she’d managed to utter a first breath of complaint, Jason was already whipping the comforter back, and leaning over to switch on the light.
“Oh, God, Oh, God—” Elizabeth sobbed—it was damp between her legs, and her fingers were stained with blood when she looked at them. “Oh, God, Jason—”
“Don’t move, don’t move,” he said, lunging from the bed. “Don’t move—” he said a third time, yanking the bedroom door open to head down the hall to Audrey’s bedroom.
Elizabeth squeezed her legs together, clutched her hands over her belly. “Oh, please, baby, please, don’t do this, don’t—”
Jason returned, found a t-shirt and yanked it over his head. He jammed on a pair of shoes. “Audrey’s up. She’ll wait here with Cam,” he said, his words coming out in a rush jumble of words. “Don’t move, I’ve got you,” he ordered, sliding one arm around her back, the other beneath her knees. “We’ve got this, okay—we’re okay—”
Elizabeth bit her lip, swallowing the wail of pain that rippled through her, terrified to wake her son and upset him, too. “Jason—”
“I’ve got you. We’re okay.”
But she knew neither of them believed it.
47
This is the last time I’m asking you
Last time I’m asking you
Jason paced the space outside the cubicle, shoved outside the curtain by the doctor on call in the Emergency Room. His hair was standing wildly on end, his bare feet had been jammed into the first pair of shoes he’d found — black boots. His gray sweatpants were fine, but the shirt he’d grabbed had been the one he’d discarded after dinner when Cameron had an accident with his spaghetti sauce.
None of that mattered to him of course, but there were definitely a few looks from the rest of the room.
Kelly, who hadn’t been on duty but came as soon as Audrey had called her, rushed in, but didn’t say anything to Jason—just dashed right behind the curtain, leaving him to pace and worry.
And think too much.
Finally—finally—Kelly emerged, with a clipboard in her hand, her eyes as grave as they’d been at that terrible appointment. “Jason, we need you to sign paperwork for—”
“What the hell is going on?” Jason demanded, but scrawled his name anyway. Kelly passed the clipboard off to a nurse so that prep could begin.
“It’s a placental abruption,” Kelly told him. “Grade 3.”
The world simply stopped.
Something roared in his ears. Kelly continued to speak but he didn’t process anything she said.
“Wait, wait, wait—” Jason held up his hands. “I thought we caught it early—”
“We did, but sometimes—sometimes it just happens, Jason, and we can’t do anything but handle it. Look, you got Elizabeth here quickly.” She placed a hand on his arm. “We’re taking her into an emergency C-section. She’s on oxygen, and the sooner we get the baby out—” She glanced over as Elizabeth was wheeled out, towards the hallway. “Come on, you can come with me and be in the room.”
48
Last time I’m asking you this
Emily folded her arms tightly, paced the length of the waiting room, from the windows to the door, then back again. The room had begun to fill with members of the family — Emily had activated the phone tree almost immediately, and Robin headed over to the Hardy house so that Audrey could come to the hospital.
Elizabeth’s grandmother was sitting with Monica, holding hands. Experienced medical professionals who knew that no matter what modern medicine did, the human body was ultimately a mystery that defied explanation. Elizabeth had done everything right, and she was still in danger of losing everything.
She thought about her brother, in the delivery room, wondered what was going through his mind. Was he thinking about the baby Sam had lost? The little girl that hadn’t been his biological daughter, but that he’d loved and looked forward to?
What if they lost the baby? What if they lost Elizabeth? Or, oh God, both of them? How would any of them be able to keep going?
49
This is the last time I’m asking you
Jason hadn’t been allowed to stay long in the room. He’d been given the gown to put on, the blue cap to pull over his hair, and he’d thought he’d be in the room, holding Elizabeth’s hand or something—anything—
Instead, almost as soon as they’d put up the curtain, blocking the site of the C-section from Elizabeth who had been put under already, alarms begans to sound wildly, and nurses began rushing around.
Jason saw their son being lifted above the curtain, then hurried over to an incubator—almost so quickly he didn’t realize that there wasn’t crying.
The baby wasn’t crying.
A cluster of people huddled around the quiet incubator, but the chaos near Elizabeth continued—and a nurse took Jason by the arm, started to gently pull him to towards the other room.
“No, wait, wait, wait—”
But he was already outside the doors, staring blindly through the windows into the room, but he didn’t know what was going on—why didn’t the baby cry—
After what felt like years—Kelly emerged, her gloves already removed, but her blue operating gown stained with blood. His eyes focused on it.
“Jason—”
He snapped his attention to her face. “Are they—tell me they’re okay—”
“The baby is okay,” Kelly said, and he exhaled on a dizzying, rush of relief. “He wasn’t crying right away, but that can happen. He’s okay. But Elizabeth—she went into hemorrhagic shock during the procedure. I wasn’t expecting that or I never would have asked you to come in–”
“Hemorrhagic—” Jason repeated, bewildered. “From blood loss?”
“It can happen with these kinds of deliveries. It was critical, and going south. That’s why I wanted you out of there. I didn’t think—” Kelly pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. But the baby is healthy, and Elizabeth is in stable condition, though still critical.”
Jason dragged a hand over his face, took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. What happens next?”
“We need to watch her very carefully for the next four to six hours.”
50
Last time I’m asking you
Elizabeth was moved into the ICU for careful monitoring, and some quick strings pulled by Audrey and Monica’s combined influence saw Jake’s mobile crib being sent there instead of the nursery.
Elizabeth’s eyes were closed, her skin so pale that she nearly matched the sheets. Jason watched her sleep, then reluctantly went to the crib where their son lay, swaddled in hospital linens with a blue cap pulled over his head.
His face was red, scrunched up, his mouth open, but not crying. Jason carefully lifted the baby in his arms—he weighed almost nothing, Jason thought. He had travel books that were heavier.
“Hey,” he said, his voice coming out slightly cracked. “Hey,” he tried again. “We’ve…we’ve been waiting to meet you.”
But Elizabeth hadn’t met him yet. And maybe she never would.
“Jason?”
He turned at the new voice, saw Audrey there, her eyes rimmed with red. “Mrs. Hardy. Hey. Hey.”
“Robin came to be with Cameron. She knew I needed to be here.” Audrey looked at her granddaughter, quiet and still in the bed. “I needed to be here,” she murmured again. She touched her fingertips to her lips. “I’ve devoted my life to medicine. My husband thought about this hospital almost every waking moment, and likely in his dreams. We did everything we were supposed to do. And yet, you can’t guarantee success. Only predict and hope.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, braced herself. Then she looked to Jason. “How’s my great-grandson?”
“Perfect, they said.” Jason carefully lowered Jake into her arms. “Six pounds, ten ounces. They, uh—” He rubbed his throat. “They had some trouble getting him to breathe, but Kelly said it won’t…” He couldn’t keep going. Couldn’t keep speaking. Keep pretending that his world wasn’t crumbling. He looked back at Elizabeth, and the words spilled from him without thinking. “She thought I was only here for the baby.”
“Maybe she did once, Jason,” Audrey said. She smiled down at Jake, then at Jason. “But none of us think it now. And you’ll tell her when she wakes up. Because she has to. She has too much to live for.”
“Is that the nurse or grandmother speaking?” Jason asked, roughly, but Audrey didn’t take offense.
“The optimist and dreamer that Elizabeth taught me to be. I have to believe in her, Jason. Don’t you?”
51
Last time I’m asking you this
“I was a bad friend, wasn’t I?”
Sonny dipped his head, rolled his eyes, then glared at Carly. “This is what you’re asking me right now?”
Carly scowled, shoved herself up from the uncomfortable waiting room chair, stalked to the window. “You weren’t any better—”
“I don’t know, I think I’m the one that made sure Jason didn’t have to come to work for the last two months.” Sonny raised his brows. “What did you do?”
“I—” Carly glowered. “I—”
“Go ahead, spit it out.”
“Don’t the two of you have anything better to do than sit here and argue about who the better friend was?” Emily demanded. “Sonny, you did the absolutely bare fucking minimum, so stop patting yourself on the back. And Carly—” She snorted. “You’re probably hoping my best friend dies and you can help Jason raise his son—” Emily stepped close to Carly, jabbing a finger at her. “If you think I’m going to let you near my nephew—”
“Okay, I’m a terrible friend and awful person, but I never wanted her to die. I mean, come on!” Carly threw up her hands. “If she dies now, Jason’s going to mope around wondering if he should have proposed for the fifteenth time—who wants to deal with that?”
“Fifteen times?” Sonny mused. “I thought he was more at six or seven times the last time I checked in—”
“Shut up,” Carly retorted. “That little twit is going to wake up, and she’s going to make Jason happy, or I’ll rip her hair out. There, is that good enough for you, Emily?”
52
This is the last time I’m asking you
They took turns sitting by Elizabeth’s side for those four to six hours. Monica came by, urged Jason to take the change of clothes Audrey had brought and shower and change. And Audrey went home briefly to have breakfast with Cameron and reassure him. But Elizabeth was never left alone for a moment. They spent time with Jake, fed him, changed him, and now the newborn was napping in his crib.
While Audrey was with Cameron, Jason sat at her side, the stained t-shirt exchanged for a dark gray one. He reached for Elizabeth’s hand, loathing how quiet she was. He wanted her to wake up, to start rambling, talking about anything and everything, to smile at him, to be angry with him—
He just wanted her to wake up.
“The last time I sat next to you, wishing you’d wake up—that feels like a lifetime ago. But it was only three months.” With his other hand, Jason stroked her cheek. “Alan—my father,” he corrected, gently, “had died, and I told myself that I wouldn’t have his regrets. That I would never give up on my child. And I didn’t. You didn’t. Jake’s here, and he’s perfect. You created him from nothing.” Pressure built behind his eyes, but he forced himself to continue. “You went through hell nearly every single moment you were pregnant with him, but you’d never know it.”
From Lucky’s addiction and the horrible paternity mess that had weighed her down so brutally, through the hostage crisis, and the revelations of the truth, and the last few months, worried over this exact complication — she’d fought through every single one.
He wished he’d had Audrey’s firm belief that it would be okay, but Jason lived in a world that was rarely fair or kind.
“Carly—she told me that I couldn’t ask you to marry me again until I was prepared to give you what you wanted from me. What you deserved. I don’t know why I needed her to tell me that. I don’t know why I didn’t just see what you needed from me.” He wrapped both hands around hers. “I don’t know why I waited once I knew. I think maybe I was still hoping you’d say it first. Maybe nothing would be different right now if we’d said the words. If you’d said yes.”
There’d be a ring on her finger, he thought, and that was another reason he was glad she hadn’t said yes. Because she deserved more than a question thrown at her in a hospital room or elevator.
“But you’d know, and I don’t know if you do. And it matters to me that you know.” He looked at her face again, at those closed eyes, willing them to open so he could see those beautiful blue depths looking at him. So that she could meet their son. “I love you. And I really need you to be okay so you can wake up and hear that.”
53
Last time I’m asking you
She heard his voice first, low and soft, and she drifted, letting it soothe her back into a light doze, the words floating past, swirling. The next time she surfaced, she heard it again, but it was further away. She opened her eyes, just a little—and recognized the hospital.
Jason was across the room, holding something in his arms. “J-” Her voice failed almost immediately, but whatever sound had left her lips was enough for his head to jerk up, and he turned and she saw that he had a baby in his arms.
A baby. Their baby.
“Hey.” He came closer, sat down. “Hey. There you are.”
“W-” She licked her lips. “What happened?” She looked at the baby, and Jason held him slightly, so that she could see him. Oh, there he was—with his little face, and one of his arms that had escaped the swaddle— “Jake.”
“He’s perfect.” Jason managed to press the call button without jostling the baby too much. “You…it was an abruption.”
Her throat tightened. “It was bad?”
“Yeah. But it’s okay now. You’re awake, and Jake is here.” Jason’s face swam in front of her and she couldn’t quite keep herself awake. But it was enough. Her precious son was all right, and he was with Jason.
She drifted back to sleep.
54
Last time I’m asking you this
Elizabeth’s smile was right when Jason came to the door, Cameron running in front of him. “Mommy, Mommy!”
“Hey, there’s my baby.”
“Up,” Cameron told Jason, pointing. “You put me up—”
“Cam, what do we say?” Elizabeth asked, adjusting Jake to one side.
“Please, put me up,” Cameron said, though he heaved a big sigh. “Jase, I gotta see my brother—” but Jason was already lifting the four-year-old, carefully settling him to one side of Elizabeth, then taking the chair next to the bed, ready to leap into action if needed.
“Be very careful,” Jason told him. “Remember—”
“Mommy is covering, I know.” Cameron laid against Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Miss you, Mommy. When you coming home?”
“A few more days, honey. But I still have to be in bed a little longer,” she said with a sigh.
“Grownups need naps too?” he asked, screwing up his face. “Don’t like that.”
“Me, either, honey, but doctor’s orders. But hey, don’t you wanna meet your brother?”
Cameron peered at the newborn, who looked back at him. “He is very small. Can’t play yet.”
“Not yet.” Elizabeth looked to Jason. “Will you take him? He needs to be changed. I’m sorry,” she added, as Jason leaned over to carefully lift Jake from her arms. “I won’t be able to do that for a while.”
“Are you really sorry?” he asked almost dryly, and she grinned at him. “It’s fine. You come first.”
Her arms free, Elizabeth wrapped one around Cameron. “Everyone taking good care of you, honey?”
“Yeah. Gram made me chocolate chip pancakes, and Jason showed me his bike.” Cameron pouted. “I can’t ride it. Not big enough. But I will be.”
“I guess some things are genetic,” Jason said, returning to their side with a freshly changed Jake.
“If that’s true, then Jake’s got a double dose of the bug,” Elizabeth teased. It was so lovely, she thought, as Cameron peppered Jason with more questions about his motorcycle. Even though everything was sore, and she knew she had a long recovery ahead of her, to be sitting in this room, with her boys, with Jason—to feel like a family—oh, it was almost worth every ounce of pain.
She winced as she shifted slightly.
Almost.
55
This is the last time I’m asking you
“I’m not going to miss being lugged around like luggage,” Elizabeth muttered as Jason carefully lowered her to the bed — gone were the blood soaked sheets and the mattress had been replaced. She craned her neck to watch as her grandmother settled Jake into her bassinet. “And I hate that I can’t just get up and go to him.”
“I’ll bring him to you any time you want,” Jason promised, sitting on the edge of the bed, sliding off the shoes that she might as well not bothered with. She wanted to protest that she could take off her own shoes, but—
Well, it’d be a lie.
She laid back against the pillows, sighed. “I’m being a pain, aren’t I?”
“Not even a little bit, darling.” Audrey kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. “You’re active young woman who’s used to zipping everywhere you need to go and relying on no one but yourself. I’m just so grateful that Jason is here to do what I can’t. Let us take care of you for a change.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, then squeezed it. “I’m going to go check on dinner and see if Cameron needs anything. Don’t let her move.”
“I promise I’ll stop complaining,” she told him, wincing as she adjusted herself slightly. “It’s just…”
“You want to be able to get up and be with Jake when he needs you.” Jason squeezed her hand. “I don’t blame you. I’m a terrible patient, too.”
“Hmm, don’t I know it? I caught you trying to lift books when you had stitches in your side,” she muttered, and he flashed her another grin. “And you were up and running around after surgery near your heart, running around the docks with gunshot to the thigh—I can’t believe I don’t have more white hair.” But she was smiling now as she said it. “You must love having the tables turned, griping at me about following orders.”
His smile faded. “No. I hate seeing you in the hospital. Sick with something I can’t fix.” He smoothed her hair back from her forehead, then his fingers trailed down her cheek. “I hate it,” he repeated.
“I know. But it’s okay now. I have to take it easy for a while, but I’m fine. And Jake—” Her gaze softened, looking at the bassinet where their son was napping. “He’s perfect. The worst is over. I just…” She bit her lip. “It’s going to be a little while longer before you can get back to…I can’t get up with him in the middle of the night—”
“Get back to my real life—that’s what you were going to say,” Jason said, and she made a face. “You are my real life. This? Right here in this room, and Cameron? This is my life, and I don’t want it any other way.”
56
Last time I’m asking you
Jason stopped just inside the bedroom, watched as Elizabeth lifted a fussy Jake into her arms, then swayed, slightly rocking him back and forth. A week after she’d left the hospital, she’d finally been given the green light to start resuming light activity which was a relief—but now Jason found himself wondering what came next.
He’d been at the Hardy house for more than two months now, and in Elizabeth’s room for six weeks. They’d both told themselves he’d started sleeping there to be there if she needed him, so he’d just continued after the hospital since she couldn’t do it on her own. But now she was on her feet, at least a little bit, and that excuse would run a little thin.
“Hey, there’s Daddy,” Elizabeth said, turning and catching sight of Jason at the door. “Daddy’s watching us.”
“Making sure Mommy doesn’t do too much,” Jason said, joining her at the bassinet, touching the small of her back. “She’s pretty stubborn that way.” She leaned in to him and he kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Sore. Happy. Look at him. Look at what we made,” she said, glancing up at him, her eyes shimmering. “He’s so beautiful and perfect. It’s everything I wanted.”
Jason curled his arm around her, watched Jake as he yawned, batted his fists, still covered with cloth mittens to protect his skin from his own fingernails. The infant yawned, then his eyes fluttered, and he closed his eyes again. “What we made?” he echoed. “Pretty sure it was you—”
“You’re kind of essential to the whole process,” she told him with a smirk, and he grinned back, because he just liked seeing her happy.
She settled Jake back in the bassinet to continue his nap, then returned to sit on the bed, tugging Jason along with her.
“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but aside from the all consuming fear part of it, the last few months…” She bit her lip, looked at him. “I’ve been happy.”
“It’s not crazy,” Jason said, tucking her hair behind her hair. “I could have done without the worry, but being here, with you…and Cameron—I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.”
She searched his eyes for a moment, then looked down at their joined hands. “When I was in the hospital, when I was still out from the surgery, I heard your voice. Talking to me.”
“Did you—” He cleared his throat. “Did you hear what I was saying?”
“No. Not really. But I thought maybe…” She lifted her gaze. “Maybe I heard you say something, but I also know it’s something I’ve heard in my dreams—”
“I love you,” Jason said, and she closed her mouth, stared at him. “That’s what you heard. It’s what I said.”
“Oh. Oh.” Her lip trembled, but her eyes were shining. “Well, then—um, I think it’s only fair. I mean, I love you, too. And, well, it’s my turn, right? You asked the first six times. Probably more. I lost count.”
“Your turn?” Jason asked, drawing his brows together.
“Will you marry me?”
57
Last time I’m asking you this
Cameron Hardy Webber, you get off that trellis right now!”
Rolling his eyes, the four-year-old set his foot back on the ground, then shoved his toe in the dirt. “Was only gonna climb it a little.”
Audrey narrowed her eyes, but then Cameron smiled at her sunnily, and she couldn’t stay so mad. He looked adorable in his tiny tuxedo. “All right, it’s time for photos and your mother wants you in them.”
“More flashes,” the beleaguered boy sighed, but then he saw his mother, and he’d forgotten how pretty she looked in her long fluffy white dress, carrying flowers. She was by the gazebo, beaming at his Aunt Emily who had Jake in her arms — in his own custom made tuxedo, which his mommy had called silly, but Aunt Emily had just made her stubborn face, and that was it.
“I found him,” Audrey said to Jason as he broke away from a group of people, including Sonny and Spinelli. “Keep an eye on him before he makes another break for the trellis in the rose garden.”
Jason lifted Cameron into his arms. “Getting into trouble?” he asked.
“Never.” Cameron beamed at him, then threw his arms around Jason’s neck. “I am a very good boy. Mommy says I’m bestest.”
“Right.” The best boy with his mother’s penchant for getting into trouble when someone wasn’t looking. He carried Cameron to the gazebo.
“Finally!” Elizabeth said, kissing Cameron’s cheek. “The photographer wanted to take a family photo, and well, it’s not complete without you.” She turned her bright smile on Jason. “Or you. I promise, this is the last one.”
“You said that three photos ago,” Jason said, but he was smiling when he said it, so Cameron knew he wasn’t serious. Jason liked to tease his mommy, and Cameron thought it was a lot of fun. One day when Jake was old enough, they’d all tease Mommy together.
But for now he trailed after his mother and Jason, and didn’t squirm when the photographer told them all to smile big. Cameron followed directions, and then escaped to go play with the other kids as soon as he was done.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, leaning up to kiss Jason’s cheek. “I know you hate all of this—”
“I do.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But I love you, and in twenty-four hours, we’ll be on a plane to Italy, so I can put up with anything.”
“Me, too. Oh, there’s Carly. She said to tell you that she’s not going to give you any more advice,” Elizabeth said, and Jason smirked. “Since you’re going to get it wrong anyway. When did you take advice from Carly?”
“Once in a while, she makes a good point. She just doesn’t know it.” Jason tugged her closer, then kissed her temple. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Author’s Note
This began as a Flash Fiction series, originally posted in August of 2022. The day before I was due to begin writing Scene 11, which is the start of Jason’s grief over the lost of Alan, my best friend died of cancer. Her battle was over too quick — the cancer had gone undiagnosed and by the time they realized what it was, she was deteriorating too fast to type it. She died early in the morning on August 9. I kept writing this story, hoping it would help me manage my grief but it became inextricably linked with the loss of my friend, and I put it on hiatus, always planning to return to it.
When I began planning the Crimson Swift collection, I knew almost immediately the time had come to dust this story off and complete it. Jason’s grief journey was particularly hard to write as it mirrored my own regrets. The calls not made, the plans we kept postponing thinking there would always be more time, and then the brutal realization that there’s never enough time for the people you love.
Thank you for reading this story and all the others.
Comments
Thanks for a great show that is how GH should have written the Jake story.
This is how the show should have been written. It is so much more consistent with the characters and storyline they had set up until the metrocourt.
And, there is never enough time. All we can do is try to remember to tell the people we love that we do love them.
Thank you for finishing this story. I remember when you started and why you had to stop. I hope writing this story helped you a bit. You wrote it beautifully!
I loved this story from the top to the end. Your right there is never enough time with our love ones all you can do is say and show them how much they are loved. I also loved how everyone was for Jason and Elizabeth finding each other again. I really liked Elizabeth asking Jason to marry her.
This was a great story!!!