December 10, 2024

This entry is part 1 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Set in current GH. No major changes to canvas.

Written in 60 minutes.

This will be the “Dear Reader” entry for my Taylor Swift collection. One of my favorite songs from Midnights.


Dear reader
If it feels like a trap, you’re already in one

November 2024

It was an unseasonably warm day in upstate New York with temperatures nearing the upper fifties, and most of the crowd milling around the Quartermaine family estate had spilled outside the great house onto the back patio and could be found winding in and around the sprawl of gardens that lined the back of the estate.

Lila Quartermaine had been famous for her rose gardens, and her daughter Tracy had terrorized more than one gardener for not perfectly maintaining the prize-winning flowers. Wandering the gardens had always brought Elizabeth Webber a great deal of comfort, even now, twenty years after the matriarch had passed away.

She’d been coming to the Quartermaine estate since she’d moved here as a teenager. First as Emily’s best friend, and then as the mother of a Quartermaine grandchild. Today, however, she’d returned not as friend or family, but —

Well, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing here.

Once, she would have danced with joy over the grave of Sam McCall, the architect of so many of Elizabeth’s misery as a younger woman. Elizabeth hadn’t started the war between them but it had certainly continued too long. Sam wasn’t quite the woman she’d been then — but neither was Elizabeth. They were reluctant co-parents, raising a pair of boys who adored each other.  And while Elizabeth and Sam had never quite managed to become friends, they were mothers first.

She emerged from the gardens, wondering if she’d stayed long enough, and if it was time to grab Aiden and go home. She searched the crowd for her youngest son, her eyes stopping when she saw Drew turn away from whomever he’d been speaking with, the fading afternoon light catching the edge of the cut beneath his eye, highlighting the bruise on his cheek.

She made a face, wondering who Drew had made angry enough to punch, but then caught sight of another familiar face glaring malevolently in Drew’s direction — Jason. He was standing by the back door, a bottle of beer in his hand, Carly by his side, and glaring at his brother with a look she’d only seen reflected back at men he truly loathed.

Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, her curiosity warring with better sense. It was none of her business, she reminded herself. Drew was a ghost in the past, one who hardly seemed like the man she’d known once, and Jason was a friend who had his own life and didn’t need one more person charging in and demanding answers. He already had Carly filling that role.

Just as she’d convinced herself to mind her own business, Michael passed her, trudging towards the front of the house. “Hey. Hey.” He drew up, frowning slightly. “I didn’t know you came back to the house. I’m sorry. I usually—” He pulled a hand through his blonde hair. “How are you? How’s Jake? I haven’t…I’m sorry, I haven’t caught up with anyone in a while.”

“You have two kids and a full-time job,” Elizabeth reminded him. “Jake’s good. He was hoping to get back here for this—” She winced. “That sounds strange. Not that he wanted to be here, but he—for Danny and for Scout.”

“Yeah, sure. I get you. Couldn’t he get a flight? You should have said something.” He fell into step with her and they started to walk up towards the house. “You know I could have made arrangements.”

“No, it’s —”

“I mean that. No point in having power and money if you can’t use it. I can make a call, have a jet there tonight—” Michael reached inside his pocket. “Let me set it up—”

Elizabeth stopped him. “No, it’s—I appreciate that. He had a project he needed to be on campus. He caught a flight this morning. He won’t be here long, but he couldn’t stand being away. But I appreciate that.” She squeezed his hand. “How are you? I know you and Sam were close.”

“Not as close as we used to be.” Something flitted across his expression, a twist of bitterness. “It feels like I’ve lost touch with so many people. You, Jake, Sam, Danny, even my own sister.”

“Two young children, a wife who was ill, a demanding job—” She squeezed his shoulder. “Give yourself a break, okay? I remember when Cam and Jake were young, and I wasn’t sure what my own name was half the time. How are the kids?”

The first genuine smile spread across Michael’s face. “Amazing. Amelia’s getting so big, and Wiley—he’s just incredible. He’s so smart and he’s doing great at school. You should come to dinner. You and Aiden. We should have you over.”

“Sure. Maybe while Jake’s in town.” Elizabeth caught sight of Jason out of the corner of her eye again — and she wasn’t imagining it. He and Carly passed Drew and the men exchanged glances of loathing. At Drew’s side, Nina sent Jason her own fulminating stare, then made a show of pulling Drew away to face her. “Okay, I can’t stop myself. What’s going on with Jason and Drew? Is it something I can help with or—”

“It’s nothing—well, it’s not nothing. I don’t want to lie to you, so don’t ask me,” Michael told her, and she sighed. “They got into a fight. Jason probably shouldn’t have done it, but Drew deserved it. I wish it had been me—” he stopped. “Never mind. Listen, call me when Jake gets into town. We should do something. I mean that. All of us. Family’s important, and I need to remember who’s always been there for me.” He squeezed her hand, then disappeared into the crowd.

Elizabeth watched him troubled, then looked back at the brothers. “None of your business,” she muttered. “None of your business. Just stay out of it.”

Jason hated people. Individually, collectively, and whole-heartedly. The only time he ever wanted to be surrounded by people was in a bar and when he was looking for a fight.

But he’d already started one fight on the Quartermaine estate this month, and he wasn’t about to make another scene even when Nina Reeves was sending him dirty looks as if Jason had decked her and not the giant asshole next to her—

“If you keep glaring at him that way,” Carly hissed from his side, “it’s going to be impossible to have any plausible deniability. Everyone is going to know you put those bruises on his face—”

“Let them.” Jason brought the bottle of beer to his lips, took a long pull. “He deserved every mark.” More.

Carly narrowed her eyes. “You really think he won’t press charges—”

“I know he won’t.” He took a deep breath. “Carly—”

“No, don’t keep telling me to stay out of it. I’m right in the middle, okay? Because Drew is my ex whatever and you’re my best friend, and—”

“Carly—” Jason set the bottle of beer down, and took her by the shoulder. “The last time you tried to get in the middle of things, what happened?”

She glowered. “Are you going to throw that in my face for the rest of my life? Because it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to cover for me, and I got myself out of that without your help—”

“You got out of that because Jack Brennan decided he wanted leverage over you. He made that recording disappear, it could come back. So you stay out of trouble and stay out of this with Drew—”

“I just want to know what he did that made you pound him into the ground at the Quartermaines of all places! With the kids just upstairs—”

Jason winced, then rubbed his forehead. “Carly.” The last thing he wanted to think about was Danny and Scout being upstairs while he’d beat the living shit out of Drew. Because then he’d think about where Danny and Scout had been the night Drew had slept with Michael’s wife, and he’d get furious all over again.  At Drew for being such a scumbag, at Willow for doing it, at Michael for involving him —

And at himself for not following his number one rule — the one rule he’d tried to implement since returning to Port Charles six months earlier.

To mind his business and stay out of everyone else’s.

“I’m done having this conversation, Carly,” Jason told Carly, interrupting whatever she’d been saying that he hadn’t been listening to in the first place. He picked up his beer, and walked away, leaving her in mid-rant.

Danny Morgan didn’t much care for people either, especially ones that he didn’t know coming up to him and telling him how sorry they were for him.

What a tragedy.

How lucky your little sister is to have her big brother to take care of her.

At least your mother died doing something heroic.

You should be so proud of her.

If one more person told him to be grateful for his mother’s last act of sacrifice, Danny was going to lose his freaking mind.

And because he figured if he started punching people, he might not stop, he left the house and went down to the boat house where it would be quiet.

He hopped onto the mossy stone ledge overlooking the pier and dangled his legs over the side,  digging his hands into the rock beneath his palms. Things would be better if his mom had been a raging bitch who’d refuse to help anyone, because then she’d be alive.

Instead, Sam had donated a piece of her liver, and was now lying in a box six feet beneath the ground, and the woman who she’d saved was still unconscious in a coma. What was the point of any of it?

He heard shoes squeaking, then thudding on the wooden planks behind him. If it was Rocco or Aiden trying to cheer him up, he might actually throw himself into the water, Danny thought, then looked back.

When he realized who was approaching, Danny scrambled to get back over the ledge. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, the tone almost harsh, the edges ragged.

His brother hesitated a few feet away. “I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I caught the first flight I could, but it’s okay if you’re pissed I didn’t get here earlier.”

“Not pissed—” Danny swallowed hard. “Not pissed. Just, um—” Had given up hoping. “I know you’re doing something important and you can’t just hop on a plane. But you’re here.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, man. I should have been here sooner. I’m sorry,” Jake said again, and came forward. He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “But I caught an earlier flight. My mom doesn’t even know I’m here yet.”

“How’d you find me down here?”

“It’s where we always go when we don’t want to be around people. It’s either that or punch them.”

Danny grinned for the first time since Halloween, then the corners of his smile trembled slightly. “I don’t know how to do this. It’s…it’s not like Dad. Not just because he’s back, but—”

“It’s your mom,” Jake said. “You don’t have to explain, Danny. You don’t have to be anything. ” He drew his brother into a half-hearted hug. “Come on. Let’s go up to the house, and get something to eat. I’m starving. You can catch me up on what I’ve missed. Why does Uncle Drew have those bruises?”

Jason saw Elizabeth by the gardens, and started towards her, wondering if she had a few minutes. He wanted to talk to her about Danny, about what he wanted, and maybe she’d have a better suggestion to keep the kids together other than moving into the Quartermaines because that had to be the last resort, right?

Jason wouldn’t live here when his sister and grandmother was alive, now he was supposed to do it when the house was filled with Tracy and Drew?

No, there had to be a better way.

Before he could reach Elizabeth, Molly stepped into his view, and he paused. Sam’s youngest sister pale, her eyes rimmed with red, but her expression steady. “Hey. How are you?”

Her lips trembled, and she bit down, took a deep breath. “Thank you. For, um, asking. I’m okay—I—my mother was hoping to talk to you. If you didn’t mind.”

“Sure. Sure.” Jason wasn’t about to do anything that made this day harder for Alexis or Sam’s sisters. They’d been through enough, he thought, remembering that Molly and Kristina had buried a child only a few months earlier. Maybe Alexis had some ideas about how to handle things with Danny. Jason just really wanted to do what was best for his son —

He just didn’t know what that was — or trust that he could deliver it. What did he know about being a father?

Molly led him towards the house and the kitchen entrance. Jason grimaced when he realized that Alexis didn’t just want to speak to him—

Drew was already in the kitchen, his bruises even harsher under the bright kitchen light. “What are you doing here?” he wanted to know with a sour expression.

“I asked you both here,” Alexis said, and Jason ignored Drew, focused on his former mother-in-law. “I’m sorry to do this here, today. But we have to be practical. Some things can’t wait.”

“If this is about Sam’s will—”

“It is. Diane will be contacting you to do an official reading, but I’m the executor and I know the contacts.” Alexis folded her arms, lifted her chin. “Sam left custody of the children to you. Both of you,” she added. “Separately and jointly. If you hadn’t come home,” she told Jason, “Drew would get custody of both.”

Drew nodded. “I assumed it would be like that. I’ll do what I can to make this transition easy for everyone. Scout can wait to start school in DC until next year—”

“I’m hoping we can settle this out of court,” Alexis interrupted. “I think we should keep the arrangement the way it is now. Neither of you have primary custody, and Danny and Scout should stay together. So I’ll take them with me. Nothing will change for either of you, you’ll just visit them at a different house.”

December 17, 2024

This entry is part 2 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 60 minutes.


Dear reader
Get out your map, pick somewhere and just run

 

took earlier flight n uber down at boathouse with danny.

Elizabeth squinted at the text on her phone, then held it a little further away from her eyes to read it more carefully. Maybe it was time to pick up reading glasses after all, though she still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d reached the age of forty-two with two sons in college and the third only a few years away—

Where had her babies with their curls, sticky fingers, and missing teeth gone?

The path between the main house and the boat house on the edge of the Quartermaine lake had been widened over the years and lighting had been added since the last time Elizabeth had followed its flagstones down to the wooden structure that jutted partially out onto the water.

Though it was a tragic reason to have Jake back in Port Charles, Elizabeth was eager to have her middle son back at home, even if for a few days. It had been such an anxious time, organizing the visa and financial documents, making sure Jake had secured good housing—and preparing to be parted from her miracle baby for the first time since he’d been returned to her all those years ago.

Elizabeth had rarely let Jake out of her sight for more than a few nights a time, and that had always been with the supervision of another adult — whether that was a friend’s parent or his father.

But Jake had been entirely on his own in Barcelona, and his command of Spanish was decent, but was it really good enough—

She took a deep breath — she was already spiraling and of course Jake was fine. He’d come home hadn’t he? Sent a text from his own phone.

She came around the corner and hesitated when the boathouse came into view and she saw that it wasn’t just Danny and Jake down there, but the rest of the kids had found their way here. Escaping their parents, Elizabeth thought. Out here on their own, just the way she and Emily had in high school.

Grief rippled through her, sharp and keen, wishing that her best friend was up at the house, that Emily’s children were mixed in down at the boat house. Elizabeth pressed a fist to her middle, took a deep breath. Not everyone could come back from the permanence of death, and Emily was still resting on the other side of the estate, at the family mausoleum, where she’d been for nearly twenty years.

Time. It marched on, with no respect for anyone it destroyed in its path.

Elizabeth started again towards the building, but stopped again when the voices started to rise, and the youngest of the children, seven-year-old Scout, cried, “But I don’t wanna go with Grandmom! I wanna stay here!”

“Maybe you heard it wrong,” Aiden said. He looked to Rocco. “You heard it wrong, right? Your dad said you could stay here—”

“It’ll be okay,” Danny insisted. “Okay? My dad will fix it. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him I wanted to be with you guys. He’ll tell Grandma Alexis, and we’ll stay together.”

“Danny, man, you can’t promise her that,” Jake told his younger brother. “Dad’s not a miracle worker. And you know your grandma doesn’t like him—”

With a wince, Elizabeth cleared her throat and stepped up into view, the cluster of kids turning to look at her. “Hey. I’m so sorry—I’m not—I’m not eavesdropping. Promise. I just—”

“She got my text,” Jake told Danny, getting to his feet. “I’ll be right back, okay? And cool it promising your sister things,” he warned in a low voice. “Cam used to do that sometimes and he meant well, but you’ll just have to pick up the pieces when Scout doesn’t get what she wants—”

“But she will—”

“Maybe. But her dad just got elected to Congress,” Jake said, and Danny grimaced, looked away. “Let me go talk to my mom, and I’ll be back.” He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. I’m not going back to Barcelona until I know you guys are good.”

He crossed the deck and bounded down the steps, pulling his mother into a hug. “Hey! I missed you!”

Elizabeth held him tightly for just a moment, then forced herself to release him. She framed his face. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting, but I was going to see if Aiden was ready to go—”

“Yeah, let me walk you back up the house. I wanna run something past you.”

Alexis stood in front of the brothers, her chin lifted, and Jason had heard that particular tone enough to understand Alexis wasn’t expecting a discussion or a negotiation. She’d spoken, and that was the end of it.

Jason didn’t want to look over at the other man — as far as he was concerned, Drew didn’t exist. But Danny loved his little sister, and he’d been pretty clear on what he wanted.

“I understand that you want to keep Scout and Danny together,” he said finally when Drew remained silent. “That’s what I want, too. Danny made that very clear when we spoke about it—”

“Then we’re in agreement—”

“I’m sorry, but we’re not,” Drew said. He shook his head. “Scout’s my daughter, and I don’t intend to be separated from her.” He sent a dirty look towards Jason. “Maybe you won’t even notice Danny’s not there. It’s not like you’ve ever been a present father—”

“We’re not doing this,” Jason interrupted, turning to face the scumbag head on. “We’re not taking shots at each other. You know why I beat the shit out of you, and if you want to get into it right now, maybe I’ll tell Alexis why.”

Drew scowled. “You wouldn’t—”

“Uh, I’d actually like to know that very much,” Alexis said, leaning in slightly. “Because if you are going to pummel each other, the last thing either of you need is my grandchildren in your custody. They come first.”

“I’ve spoken to Danny. He wants to stay with Rocco and Scout. Dante and I have spoken about it, too. We’re looking at options that keep them all together. You can’t offer that,” he told Alexis who flinched. “I’m sorry. I wish we weren’t having this conversation. I wish Sam were still here. But she’s not.”

“I will make sure Danny and Scout have all the contact with Rocco that they could want, but I didn’t bring the two of you in to argue about it. It isn’t a discussion. It’s a statement. My grandchildren will be staying with me. And if you want to fight me in court, then I’ll do that. My only goal is ensuring those kids grow up safe and sound which isn’t something either of you can guarantee.”

With that, Alexis left the kitchen, leaving the brothers behind.

Drew lightly touched the corner of his mouth which still sported a split lip. “So, ah, I’m assuming you’ve spoken to Michael.” When Jason said nothing, he nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact you had no right to put your hands on me.”

Jason wanted to punch him again, his hands at his side bunching into fists, the anger coursing through his veins, blood pounding in his head. Just do it.

Instead, he stalked back out the patio doors.

“I didn’t realize the kids were so worried about being split up,” Elizabeth said, walking back towards the house, her arm wound through Jake’s. “I guess I should have. Your father talked to Danny about it, and he didn’t seem worried. He said they’d figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, Rocco overheard his dad talking to Miss Davis. She’s going for custody.” Jake made a face. “It’s stupid, but I’m glad we never had to worry about that. I never worried that anyone was gonna separate me from Cam and Aiden.” When Elizabeth said nothing, he stopped on the path, looked at her. “Mom?”

“It’s given me some restless nights, worrying about what would happen to me if you were all minors,” Elizabeth admitted. “For a long time, it was Cam and Aiden, and well, there weren’t really Spencers in town to take Aiden. My grandmother was too old. I asked Patrick to be their guardian.”

Jake looked away, then kicked at the dirt between the flagstones. “And then he moved to California and I came home.”

“And so did your father. At least, we thought he was your father. Drew—Jason—Drew—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It’s hard to keep it straight. But he obviously wanted custody of you when I updated everything. And I wanted to keep you together, but—”

“He didn’t want Cam or Aiden?”

“No. But then Laura came home and she was happy to sign on for all three of you. And then your dad actually came home, and I made him guardian so he could have you, and he never flinched at taking your brothers. Thank God we never had to worry about any of that.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine how Dad would have handled that,” Jake said, a bit of distaste in his tone, and Elizabeth bit her lip. “Who would he have dumped us on when he needed to pretend to be dead?”

“Jake—”

“I’m working on forgiving him, okay? I mostly have because you want me to, and well, I’m not a kid anymore, so it’s not like I have to see him if I don’t want to. But Danny still worships him. Thinks he’s a hero, that whatever he was doing was worth all the time we lost.” Jake dragged a hand down his face. “He’s still a kid, you know?”

“And you’re not,” Elizabeth murmured, her chest tight. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you had to forgive your father.”

“You have, though, haven’t you? You forgave him the first time you saw him, I could tell. I don’t get it,” he muttered. “I never will.”

“Whether I forgive him or not has no bearing on you. It shouldn’t. I’m an adult, and he and I have been forgiving each other for so long. It’s what we do, Jake, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just not looking forward to Danny learning he can’t count on Dad either. But I’ll be there.” Jake took a deep breath. “Because I’m gonna take the next semester off, and come home.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I’m taking the semester off. Danny needs me. He’s my brother, and Scout—well, for a while I thought she was gonna be my sister. Cam did a lot for me when I came home from the Cassadines, and when they screwed with me. That’s what older brothers do, and hell, Aiden’s dad is here, too, so someone has to be here when he takes off. My brothers need me, Mom.” Jake folded his arms. “You can’t talk me out of this. I already filed the paperwork. That’s why I didn’t come home earlier.”

“I—”

“I’m an adult now, right? I make my own choices. You told me you moved out when you were my age because Gram didn’t think you could make your own choices.”

“Well, yes, but—” She pressed a hand to her temple. “Wait. I need you to think about this—”

“I don’t need to think about this. They need me, and well, what are you going to do? Tell them that their dads are going to fix everything?” Jake shook his head. “That’s not what they do. Sometimes fathers stick, like Dante, but mostly they don’t. And Danny and Scout and Rocco don’t have a mother to take care them like me and Aiden. So it’s gonna be me.”

“We can’t just—we need to talk—”

“No, we don’t. I’m gonna stick here tonight. Grandma always says I can stay anytime, me and Aiden because we’re family. So you can head home without us. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He came forward, hugged her again. “I love you, Mom.”

“Okay, but Jake—” Elizabeth tried to hang on him, but he was too quick and had already let her go, and was heading towards the boat house. It took everything she had not to chase after him.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. If she did now, she’d start to cry and he’d get upset, and she was already so worried that she’d influenced him into forgiving Jason—

She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath, trying to catch her breath. And then turned around, started towards the house. She walked quickly ignoring the rushing in her ears, the roaring of her brain trying to make sense of everything Jake had just thrown at her, the bombs he’d dropped—

The damage she’d done to him—the damage Jason had—

Her steps quickened as she grew closer to the long winding drive where cars had been parked, then stopped dead when she realized her car was blocked by at least two others. Oh she just wanted to go—she wanted to run and keep running—

Where had her babies gone? Where had time gone? Where had they all gone wrong and could it ever be fixed—

“Elizabeth?”

She spun around, not registering the speaker until she saw Jason several steps away. Her breath rushed out, and she pressed her lips together, trying to gather herself. “M-My car is blocked in,” she managed.

He came towards her, looked at the sedan for a long moment, then back at her. “Is that why you’re upset?”

“I’m not—” She closed her eyes again, the words wobbling. “I want to go back.”

“Back where?” His voice was closer, and she heard the crunch of gravel. “I can take you back to the house. Do you need—”

“No, just back.” Her eyes flew open. “I want to go back to the Black and White Ball and n-never leave Emily’s side, and I want to go back to that moment in your penthouse and tell you Jake is yours so he never doubts how much you love him and I want to go back to the park and just go home and back—I just want it to stop. I want it to stop. They keep growing up, and growing away, and changing, and why don’t they stop—”

Elizabeth pressed her hands against her mouth, finally stopping the spiraling spill of madness, hot tears coursing their way down her cheeks.

In front of her, Jason looked pained, his eyes glimmering, his throat tight. He looked away, swallowed hard, then looked back. “I can’t help with any of that.”

“N-No, of course not—”

“But I can give you a ride home.”

She closed her lips, then laughed suddenly, a short gasp of hysterical giggles that sounded as ridiculous as they felt. “Oh, well, okay.”

“And maybe—” Jason took a deep breath, stepped closer, so that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. “If you want, we could stop by Bobbie’s, and I could get my bike. I know it’s not really turning back time—”

“But maybe it’ll be close enough. Yeah, yeah, I want that. I want to go nowhere. Fast.”

December 23, 2024

This entry is part 3 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 53 minutes. Honestly, I wrote myself to that last line and was too proud of myself to think of continuing and knew I’d never finish another scene.


Dear reader
Burn all the files, desert all your past lives

There were no time machines, no magic buttons to press, to switches to turn, nothing that could be done to turn the clocks back to the person he’d been once — to the fresh-faced young woman he’d driven home from a bar once upon a lifetime ago —

But for just a few minutes, for just a few precious moments, with the wind roaring in his ears, the flashes of road coming closer on every turn when he went just a little too fast, Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around his torso, her squeals of delight when they hit the outskirts of town and he could really pick up speed —

For just a little while, time did stand still and he was that man again. He’d seen her fighting with a stranger at Jake’s, and he’d stepped in—

And nothing had ever been the same.

He didn’t think very much about where to take her — there were the obvious choices — to the summit of the cliff roads at Vista Point where they’d shared a kiss and too many unfinished conversations — to the bridge where he’d taught her to box or where they’d stood in quiet contemplation of the son they’d thought lost to them —

But if she wanted to turn back time, if she really wanted to go back to a different moment —

Jason eased off the speed, exhaling a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He’d wondered if this land had ever been sold — if even this had changed in the time he’d been gone. But the driveway to the old estate was still there, and the statues still at guard, though time had worn away more of the stone. There was just enough moonlight to look around.

Elizabeth slid off the bike when it was safe to do so, tugging the helmet from her hair, and her hair falling to her shoulders. She set the helmet on the back of the bike, combed her fingers through hair. “I completely forgot about this place,” she murmured, heading for the statues that had once graced elaborate gardens, long fallen into ruin. “We came here once.”

“I remember.” He switched off the bike. “You never came back?”

“No.” Elizabeth stopped by the statue of the girl, studied her for a long moment, then looked at him. “Jake’s home. I should have said something back at the house, but I was just—” She rubbed her chest with a fist. “Everything started to go wrong, and I couldn’t think anymore.”

“He said he would try to get a flight before the service.” Jason approached her, sliding his hands in his pockets. “He’s at the house?”

She nodded, folded her arms. “Yeah. He said he and Aiden would spend the night. Monica, she, ah, gave them a standing invitation. She’s been kind, you know. Like Laura, not treating any of the boys differently.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “He said he’s putting school on hold.”

“What?” Jason straightened. “Why? What happened?”

“He’s worried about Danny.” There was a bench, and she sat, perching at the edge, her knees angled towards the center. She stared down at her hands. “The kids—they were all upset. Rocco heard his dad saying Alexis wants custody.”

Jason flinched, then dragged his hands down his face. “They shouldn’t know that yet. They shouldn’t be a part of it yet.”

“So it’s true?” She looked at him, and he averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze. “Alexis wants custody?”

“She told Drew and me tonight.” He kicked at a larger piece of rock that had become dislodged from the base of the statue. “It would keep the kids together.”

She said nothing, and when the silence became uncomfortable, he lifted his head to find her watching him. “That’s what Danny wants. He told me he wants to stay with Rocco and Scout. I—I can’t do anything about Scout, but—”

“What? You’ll let Dante have custody and you’ll visit so Danny can stay with Rocco?” Elizabeth asked, and he grimaced, looked away. When he and Dante had broached the uncomfortable topic, the suggestion had lurked in his mind, but had been unsaid. Hearing it from her lips —

It sounded wrong.

“I wish I could blame myself,” Elizabeth said, and he frowned, opened his mouth, then shook his head, bewildered. “I know I pushed you out of Jake’s life, and that I must have made you question whether you’d be a good father—”

“No—”

“Don’t do that thing where you absolve me of all wrongdoing,” Elizabeth interrupted gently, and he sighed. She rose to her feet. “You didn’t used to do that, you know? When I was wrong, you always told me. About Lucky—God, the arguments we had about Ric and Zander—but that stopped after Jake.” She tipped her head to the side. “We can save that for another argument. But I know this isn’t about that. You came home seven years ago and found out Danny was your son and Jake was alive. You went from no children to two sons just like that—” She snapped her fingers. “You were patient with Jake, you built a relationship with him. You had visitation with him. I know things were a little more complicated with Danny, but you were their father, Jason. And when we lost you three years ago, it devastated them.”

His throat tightened and he looked away. “I never meant for any of that—it wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

“Before we lost you, if this had happened, if there was a question of Jake or Danny needing to live with you, you would have done it.”

“I—”

“Something’s different about you,” Elizabeth continued. He pressed his lips together, kept his eyes on the ground beneath him. “I noticed it the first time we saw each other last April.”

“Two years is a long time,” Jason said after a long beat of silence. “It’s not like last time. I didn’t know five years had passed. I—I felt it. Every day I was gone.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. Drew made it clear he doesn’t support Alexis taking Scout, and if he’s taking her to DC, then there’s no point in Alexis taking Danny—”

“All of that might be true, but why aren’t you saying that Danny is your son and you want him with you?”

“It’s—he’s old enough to decide where he wants to live. And he’s—they’re both so—I’ve missed most of their lives,” Jason said. He fisted his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “Danny wants to be with Scout, so I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen—”

“Do you think Carly feels that way about Bobbie? They didn’t meet until Carly was in her twenties. And Dante and Sonny—I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but I’m pretty sure Sonny didn’t know who Dante was until he shot him. And look at them now. You never used to make excuses.” Elizabeth took another step towards him but he kept his eyes looking just past her. “Why are you making them now?”

“I’m not,” Jason said carefully. “I told you, I’ll do what’s right for Danny—”

“The way you always tried to do what was right for Sonny, and what was right for Carly, for me, for Sam—” Her fingers brushed his jawline forcing their eyes to meet. “What about what’s right for you? When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

“It’s not a good idea for me to think that way.” He reached up, took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I usually get into trouble—” He started to release her hand, but she held on, turning it so that she look at his knuckles. “Elizabeth—”

“I wondered where those bruises came from,” she murmured, her fingers sliding over the bruises and one thin cut. “I saw you and Drew at the house looking like you wanted to murder each other.”

“Like I said, I get into trouble when I do what I want,” Jason said gently tugging his hand from her grasp. “And don’t ask—”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Her lips curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell me anyway. It’s all right for you to rescue me when I need it, to listen when I’m having a bad day, but when I check in on you, when I try to be your friend, well, you change the topic as quickly as you can. I can take a hint. I hope there’s someone you can talk to. Spinelli. Sonny. Carly.”

Jason opened his mouth, but he didn’t have the words, didn’t have the ability to make her understand everything that was in his head, in his heart, in his gut, he never knew how to do that now. “There’s not,” he said finally. “If there was, it would be you.”

She sighed, then nodded. “All right. We should, ah, find some time to talk to Jake. Try to talk him out of staying home next semester. I think we should do that as united front, make it clear to him that you’ll take care of Danny, and that Jake needs to focus on his future. I’ll call you tomorrow when he gets home, and we’ll set up a time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Elizabeth waited another moment, the silence hanging between them, her eyes searching his, but whatever she was looking for remained unanswered. She started back towards the bike, pausing when he called her name.

“The girl. The statue. With the long dress. I can’t tell if she’s smiling. You asked me that once, and I never—I never came back to find out.”

Elizabeth looked from him to the statue. “I can’t tell,” she said. “I guess I should have come back before now. Even statues crumble when they’re made to wait.”


I wish I could to tell you that the last line is my own, but it belongs to my queen, Taylor, and The Prophecy one of the perfect songs from TTPD: Anthology. I honestly couldn’t resist, lol.

December 24, 2024

This entry is part 4 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes. Happy holidays!


The encounter with Elizabeth lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. Even as he left her in the parking lot at Bobbie’s and watched her car pull out into traffic, Jason knew he handled the conversation poorly, though he couldn’t really say what he should have said differently. She’d wanted answers that he didn’t have to give which wasn’t new. It seemed he always said the wrong thing around Elizabeth, and he’d been doing that for years.

Still, it was in his mind as he woke the next morning,  and he went over it again and again in his mind as he showered, dressed, shaved, and headed to Pozzulo’s to check in with Sonny. He knew he was supposed to call Elizabeth today, that she wanted to talk to Jake as a united front and convince him to go back to school, but Jason thought that was a mistake. Jake wouldn’t care what he thought. Hadn’t they needed to practically beg him to even take money for school?

Instead, he avoided the idea entirely. If she really wanted him for that conversation, she’d call him, wouldn’t she?

And if the irony of leaving Jake for Elizabeth to handle the same way he was contemplating allowing Alexis to have primary custody of Danny occurred to Jason, it was on a level so deep he couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He wanted a distraction, wanted to think about anything else other than his failures as a father and as a man, and Sonny was always good for that. There was always a task for Jason to accomplish, and this was one area where he knew what he was doing. Negotiate with Sidwell to get Sasha Corbin out of trouble? No problem. Help Anna track down Valentin to get Charlotte back? Easy. Help Sonny get away with murder? He could do that in his sleep.

Stand in front of his firstborn son and give him advice about how to live his life? Look at his other son and contemplate raising him without a mother in his life? These were impossible tasks that Jason couldn’t punch or shoot his way out of.

But Sonny didn’t want to give Jason something to do. He wanted to talk.

“I, uh, heard through the grapevine about Alexis and the kids.” Sonny sat behind his desk, leaning back. Behind him there was a bookcase filled with things Sonny had never read, and the surface was lined with pictures of Sonny with his family. With Dante and Rocco, with Kristina, with Avery and Donna—

Jason looked away, focused on Sonny’s eyes, not wanting to think about not having any photos of his sons. He hadn’t had them in more than two years. Nothing personal, nothing that could tie him to his life here—

Nothing that would put Pikeman or the men he worked with on the trail to learning that Alan Jacobs was someone with people who mattered.

“I’m handling it,” Jason said, though it was a lie. He’d never told them in his old life, preferring omissions or remaining silent to avoid uncomfortable conversations. But he’d needed the skill in order to survive, and he’d learned it well enough. “Have you heard anything about Sidwell—”

“I’ll handle Sidwell if he pops up,” Sonny interrupted. Now he leaned forward. “I want to talk about this. About what Alexis wants to do. I can talk to her, figure out a way to mediate this.  She’s hurting right now, you know, she’s been through a lot with Kristina and Molly squabbling over the baby, and well, losing Sam right as we lost our grandchild—”

Jason shook his head. “I told you, I’m handling this—”

“How?” Sonny challenged. He shook his head. “You know, I don’t get you, I really don’t. You come home and don’t talk to anyone for months, barely spend time with your own kids, and now you got the chance to have one of them live with you—finally—”

“What does that mean?” Jason cut in, not appreciating the hint of disgust beneath Sonny’s words. Was Sonny really sitting in judgment? Sonny wanted to judge the choices Jason made?

“You know what it means. You let Elizabeth push you around and out of Jake’s life, and look what happened — the Cassadines snatched him up thinking he was Lucky’s, and then they went after you and you lost all that time with him—then you let Sam push you out of Danny’s this time—”

“I didn’t let anyone do anything,” Jason interrupted, and Sonny just lifted his brows. “I made those choices, too, Sonny. And don’t you dare blame Elizabeth for what happened with Jake—”

“Well, at least some things will never change.” Sonny shoved himself to his feet. “You still act like she walks on water. I don’t get you, man. Why aren’t you fighting for your kids? Why don’t you ever fight for them?”

“Why so they can grow up and die like Morgan?” Jason shot back. “So they can get shot in the head like Michael? Be dragged in and out of court every time I’m angry with their mother? Is that what fighting for your kids looks like?”

Sonny bristled. “What the hell—”

“You want me to go to Alexis and tell her I’m taking Danny to live with me full-time so he can grow up in my life? Maybe one day he’ll cover up a murder for me the way Michael’s covering for you? Is that what I’m supposed to fight for? Are you proud of the kids you raised, Sonny? Are you fighting for Avery every time you drag Ava into court? ”

“Don’t turn this around me, damn it—”

“Why not? You think you get to sit there and call me a bad father? Maybe I am,” Jason said, “but my sons are good kids. Jake’s going to one of the best art schools in the world. And Danny’s going to be able to choose whatever he wants.”

“And none of that is because of you—”

“Which exactly how it should be. I’m not a good man, Sonny, and my boys are never going to make the mistake of thinking I am. We’re done here.”

Jason wasn’t the only one with regrets about their conversation, and Elizabeth was mentally writing an apology as she went to Kelly’s, planning to grab lunch for Jake and Aiden. She wanted to call Jason, find a way to apologize for taking such a horrible day and making it worse, then make sure they were on the same page about Jake before they figured out how to make their son get on a plane back to Barcelona.

“Oof—” Elizabeth nearly careened into a tall, broad chest as she left the diner, brown bag in hand. She lifted her eyes, nearly expecting the universe to have put Jason in front of her when she wasn’t ready to speak with him. But instead she found Drew. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No worries.” Drew stepped back, letting the door to Kelly’s swing shut behind them. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday. It was nice of you to come considering your, ah, history with Sam.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Our boys were brothers, and they love each other. Sam and I made peace because they come first.”

“I hear an expectant tone in your voice, and if you think I’m going to do the same with my brother, then you clearly don’t know what’s going on.” Drew reached around her for the handle to the door. “And it’s none of your business—”

“No? Danny is still Jake’s brother. Scout is still his cousin. Jake loves them both, and he’s talking about staying home from school next semester to make sure they’re okay. Don’t tell me that doesn’t make this my business—”

“Jake is an adult—”

“And that means he stops being my son? He stops being my responsibility? No. He’s making a mistake, but he’s doing it because he doesn’t trust you or Jason to do what’s right for Danny and Scout, and so far I agree with him—”

Drew rolled his eyes, folded his arms. “Well, excuse me, but I didn’t ask for your opinion. Not that it matters. You’ll take Jason’s side just like Carly did—”

“Who said anything about Carly?” Elizabeth demanded. “I’m talking about not knowing that the kids are freaking out, they’re upset, and they know Alexis wants custody. Scout was sobbing yesterday down at the boathouse. Did you even know that?”

Drew pressed his lips together, looked past her. “No. I didn’t—I didn’t realize that.” He scratched the edge of his brow. “Dante—he’s been taking point on the kids. I’ve been—with the election and things at work, I’ve been distracted—”

“Like I said, so far I’m not impressed by you or your brother’s handling of this. Those kids shouldn’t even know the adults in their lives are squabbling over them like they’re pawns on a chessboard. And don’t worry, I’ll have some words for Alexis when I find her. They are kids who lost their mother, and you and Jason are punching each other, Alexis is issuing demands, Jake is throwing away his life, and the only person who seems to give a damn is Dante who has zero control over what happens to them.”

Drew lifted a brow. “Who said Jason gave me these bruises?”

“Do I look like I was born yesterday? I don’t know why Jason slugged you, but I’m sure he had a good reason—”

“Like I said, taking his side—”

“Jason doesn’t usually throw punches to someone who doesn’t deserve it. But I don’t give a damn about why. I care about my son, I care about those kids—”

“And you care about Jason. Don’t forget, I know exactly how far you’re willing to go to keep Jason in your life,” Drew sneered. “How long did you lie to me—”

“Don’t remind me. I’m sorry I ever made the mistake of thinking you were someone I wanted to spend my life with. How miserable I would have been when I realized how selfish you are. But you’re the one that has to live with that, not me.”

Jake was only half-listening to Danny as they headed down the steps in the foyer of the Quartermaine house as he swiped through options on the ride-sharing app, ordering a car for himself and Aiden to head home. He’d avoided his mother and her worries long enough.

When they reached the bottom, and Jake had submit his request for the car, he squinted towards the back of house. “I should get Aiden before he gets too involved with Sasha in the kitchen—”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Danny demanded. “You can’t give up Spain—”

“I’m not giving it up. I’m putting it on hold for a semester.” Jake slid his phone back in his pocket. “And don’t argue, Danny—”

“Why? Because you’re the oldest? That’s not going to work on me,” Danny shot back. “Because I’m the oldest in my house, so we’re both the oldest—”

“No, don’t argue because you’re a kid and you’re not in charge of my life. I made my decision, and it’s done. I’m not going to be in Barcelona if you need me—”

“I have Dad, okay?” Danny told him. “You’ll see. Dad’s going to fix this—”

“How?” Jake rolled his eyes. His phone vibrated and he tugged it out to see that his mother was asking if she should pick them up. He started to text a response. “How’s he going to fix that fact that you, Rocco, and Scout have different fathers so you’re basically going to be separated?”

“I don’t care. Dad said he’d make sure I got what I wanted—”

“That’s what he always says,” Jake said absently. “He asks what you want him to do and then he doesn’t have to make a decision. You don’t remember him that well, but I do—”

“I was eleven when he went away, not three—”

“Went away—that’s a funny way of saying he chose to fake his death and let us believe he was dead,” Jake said. “Danny, we’re not arguing about it—”

“I’m so sick you acting like you got Dad all figured out. You’ll see when he finds a way to keep me and Scout together, okay? He can’t figure out Rocco, I know that. But he’ll find a way.”

Danny stomped towards the back hall. Jake called after him. “Hey, tell Aiden to come out here! Our rideshare will be here in like ten!”

He typed a response to his mother, giving her an ETA, then looked up as the front door opened.

And his father walked through.

December 25, 2024

This entry is part 5 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes.


Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart
(You should find another)

When he’d come to their house last April, and Jake had walked down the steps, it had stunned Jason to have such a visual representation of the time he’d lost. When last he’d seen Jake, he’d been shorter than Elizabeth, his hair worn longer, his face still carrying some residual features of youth. But Jake had grown more than a foot, and his hair had been cut short, his face leaner, more angular—more adult.

Seeing him again, months after he and Elizabeth had taken him to the airport and sent him to Spain, Jason thought again of how much of Jake’s life he’d missed. Some of that had been outside his control — the long, terrible year and a half Jason had believed Jake to be dead, and then five years in the coma, locked in a lab in Russia—

Jake’s fingers tightened reflexively around the phone he held in his hand. “If you’re here to see Danny, he’s in the back.” The words were clipped, said without emotion.

“I—” Had come to talk to Dante, hoping to talk about Alexis’s intentions, looking for any way out of this terrible situation. “I was hoping to see you later today, actually. Your mother told me about school—”

“She gets to be disappointed,” Jake cut in, “but you don’t. You paid for school, and thanks, but that doesn’t entitle you to an opinion on me or what I do with my life.”

Jason absorbed the hit, dropped his eyes to the floor of the foyer, then took a deep breath. Facing mercenaries had been easier than facing the righteous anger of the son he’d left. “I know you’re angry at me. And I’m not asking you to do forget what I did. Or forgive me. I told you that last summer. I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t let my failings limit your future—”

“And I’m not. I’m sure Mom put you up to this. But she can’t change my mind either. Barcelona is there when I’m ready to go back next fall. By then, I’m sure wherever Danny ends up, he’ll be settled. But I’m not going anywhere.” Jake shoved the phone into his back pocket. “You were never there for me, not in any way that mattered. You showed up on holidays and birthdays, fine. But you weren’t there when I needed you, and I don’t want you here now. Thanks for paying for school,” he repeated, “because the last thing Mom deserves after taking care of all of us is putting herself in debt for me. I took the money for her. Not for you.”

Jason wanted to argue, wanted to defend himself, but there was nothing there. Nothing he could offer. No rebuttal that would make erase Jake’s anger. “Okay,” he said finally. “But your mother—”

“Don’t talk to me about my mother. You don’t get to do that. I came home for my brother. Do you know when they told us you were dead, he cried himself to sleep?” Jake demanded. “Do you know how stupid I feel for telling him that you’d died trying to help people? No. When Danny figures out that you’re not here for him, he’ll need me. And the one thing I learned from you is that when you love someone, you show up.”

“Jake—”

Jake removed his phone, did something with the screen, then turned his back on Jason. “Yo! Aiden! Let’s go! The rideshare is here!”

Jason closed his mouth when Aiden appeared a few seconds later, followed by Danny who grinned when he saw Jason in the foyer.

“Dad, hey. Jake, why didn’t you tell me Dad was here?” Danny said, then looked at his brother’s irritated expression. “Oh, you guys didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

“Everything is fine,” Jason told Danny. He kept his hands in the pocket of his jacket, balled into fists. “We’re good.”

Jake walked past him without a word, yanked open the door. “Let’s go, Aiden. I already texted Mom.”

Aiden looked back and forth between his brother and Jason, then shrugged. “All right. See ya, Danny.”

“See ya—” Danny flinched when Jake slammed the door. “You’re not good, are you? Man, I told Jake not to do this with you—”

“Jake gets to feel how he wants to feel,” Jason said, holding up a hand. “He’s right to be angry, Danny. I was gone for two years. I can’t change the choices I made.”

“Yeah, but you were helping people, weren’t you?” Danny said. “That’s why you were in Greece in the first place. You helped save Uncle Drew. Jake said he’s coming home for the spring. I tried to argue with him, but he never listens. Anyway, maybe it’s good. He’ll be around, and you’ll get to change his mind.”

“I hope I can,” Jason said. “But—”

“He’s just worried about me. And Scout, too. He takes being a brother serious.” Danny shrugged. “He gets that from Cam. Something about Jake having a really tough time when he was a kid, and Cam was made it easier. So he thinks that’s what he has to do for me. He still thinks I’m a stupid little kid. He says I shouldn’t get my hopes up that you’ll be able to find a way to keep me and Scout together. That’s why he’s so mad.”

Jason winced, then rubbed his brow with his thumb. “Listen. About that. I—I know you heard your grandmother is asking for custody of you and your sister. That’s why I came over—I wanted to talk to Dante.”

“They went to Turning Wood to see his mother. Don’t worry, Dad. I know you’re going to do whatever you can so me and Scout can stay together. I’m her big brother, so I gotta look out for her. It’s going to be okay.”

He was saying all the right things, but Jason had a feeling Danny was expecting some kind of miracle, and he just didn’t think that was possible. “I—I’m going to try very hard to make sure whatever happens, you’re okay.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slid it out to find a text notification from Elizabeth on the lock screen.

Jake’s on his way home. Are you still up to talk to him? I really want to do this together.

He grimaced, considered calling her and telling her that would be a terrible idea, but maybe it would be easier with Elizabeth in the room. She always knew what to say to Jake, how to build the bridge.

He looked back up at Danny. “I have to go, but we’ll talk more. And I’ll call Dante. We’ll figure this out.”

“I know you will.”

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when Jason’s short text reached her, indicating he was on his way over. With any luck, they’d figure out how to talk to Jake into going back to Barcelona, and maybe she’d find a way to apologize for last night. She’d had no right to make Jason feel worse about himself on a day when he’d buried his ex-wife, and the guilt would linger until she’d made amends.

She frowned when she heard a knock on the door a few minutes later. Had Jason been close to the house already?

But it wasn’t Jason on her doorstep — it was Sonny. “Oh. Um, hello.” She stepped back letting the other man in. “I didn’t—I wasn’t expecting you.”

“No, we really haven’t had a chance to catch up, have we?” Sonny walked in, then turned to face her. “I had a chat with Jason this morning, and I thought we should discuss it.”

Elizabeth closed the door, then folded her arms. “I don’t understand—”

“Alexis is asking for custody of the kids. You hear about that?”

She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes. I talked to Jason about it last night—”

“Yeah, I saw your fingerprints all over this. That explains the way he was talking to me this morning.”

She stiffened, narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Jason’s not going to fight for his kid, you know that, don’t you? He’s gonna let Alexis run all over him, talking about how he’s not a good father, how he’s never been there, that his life isn’t good for Danny—” Sonny’s brows lifted. “Any of that sound familiar?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t feel right discussing any of this without Jason in the room.” Elizabeth walked past him, heading for the other side of the room where she’d left her phone. She’d call Jason right now and tell him to get over here faster. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever Sonny was blaming her for.

“He didn’t think like this before you,” Sonny accused, and she whirled back to face him with wide eyes. “He wanted kids. You know that. You know what kind of father he was with Michael, don’t you?”

“I—”

“Hell, the whole reason he hooked up with Sam in the first place was to be a father again. But you took that away from him and you filled his head with all this crap about his life not being safe enough for kids—”

Elizabeth held up her hands. “First of all, that is not how that happened. And let’s not forget you and Carly practically teaming up to tell me what a terrible idea it would be for me to be having Jason’s child, okay?”

“Sure, blame me and Carly for your lies. But the way Jason was talking this morning about not being a good man, about how amazing Jake was because Jason hadn’t been in his life—that’s all you, Elizabeth, and you know it—”

“It is not! How dare you! I was with him last night, asking the same questions! I want him to fight for Danny, too! How could you ever think I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth, why do Jake and Jason have such a difficult relationship, huh?” Sonny challenged. “Maybe it’s because of you. Because you ripped out foundation by shoving Jason out Jake’s life and lying to him about who Jake’s father was. You know Jason would have stepped up and been a good father, but it wasn’t enough for you, wasn’t it? You couldn’t stand that Jason didn’t love you, and that he’d raise Jake with another woman! So you lied to him, and you lied to Lucky, and you lied to the world! And now Jason thinks he has no right to be a father because of what you started!”

She wanted to defend herself, to speak up, to change the angry words being thrown at her, but all of them were true in their own ways, and hadn’t she taken some of the blame last night? She opened her mouth, then shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. That’s not what I wanted to happen—”

“But it happened, didn’t it?” Sonny took a step towards her, jabbing a finger. “You lied to Jason, to Lucky, to the world, and you lied to Jake and the only reason the Cassadines took him was because you lied! Hell, maybe you’re the reason they went after Jason—”

“Oh, that’s not fair! I didn’t—”

“What, you didn’t know Lucky had dangerous connections? You didn’t know about Helena?” Sonny sneered. “Don’t try to sell me on that, Elizabeth. You forget I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all. How many times have you lied to those kids? You’re going to fix this, damn it. You’re going to find a way to make sure Jason knows that he’s a good father, that he deserves to be a father. You owe him that much for all the years you stole from him and from Jake. You started this, Elizabeth, and by God, you’re going to end it. I refuse to let you steal another son from Jason—”

The door opened on Sonny’s last statement, and he whirled around to find Jake and Aiden at the threshold. Elizabeth swiped at her cheeks, turning away so that the boys couldn’t see her tears.

“What’s going on here?” Jake asked, coming inside. Behind him Aiden hovered behind him. “What are you talking about? Mom? What’s he talking about? How did she steal a son from my dad?”

Sonny lifted his brows, looked at Elizabeth who couldn’t speak, her throat was too  tight. “Oh, you don’t know? When she got pregnant with you, she was married to Lucky. And told the whole world, including Jason, that Lucky was your father.”

Jake squinted, then looked at his mother. “Did you do that?”

“Y-Yes,” she finally managed to say. “But it’s not that simple—”

“And even after she told your father the truth, she asked him to let Lucky raise you. She made Jason feel like trash, like a terrible father who had no right to be in your life—”

“Stop, that’s not—”  Elizabeth grabbed Sonny’s arm. “Stop! You have no right, no place to tell him—”

“No, I’m of sick you walking around like a saint, like the world’s best mother because you raised your boys alone. Well, who’s fault is that?” Sonny threw out. “Jason proposed to you, didn’t he? He asked you to marry him when he found out about Jake.”

“He did, but—”

“And you turned him down—”

“Until I didn’t!” Elizabeth cried. “Until I said yes, and then Michael got shot in the head—don’t you dare pretend as if I had no reason to be concerned about your life, Sonny Corinthos! Your son was in a coma for a year! That terrified Jason! It terrified us both! How dare you come in here, how dare you—”

“How dare you use my son to make yourself feel better about the lies you told—”

“Oh, shit—” Aiden snagged a stunned Jake’s sleeve. “Shit, shit—” Jake turned and saw Jason looming in the doorway.

“What,” Jason began, his voice tightly controlled, his fists balled at his side, “in the hell are you doing here, Sonny?”

December 26, 2024

This entry is part 6 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes.


Dear reader
Bend when you can, snap when you have to

He should have known.

He should have known that Sonny wouldn’t let that morning’s argument go unanswered, and even more—he should have known Sonny wouldn’t—couldn’t—challenge Jason’s words face to face.

So he’d taken that anger and turned it loose on the one person who might actually listen—might actually believe him —

Jason didn’t have to know exactly what Sonny had said before he’d heard Elizabeth’s anguished voice when he’d approached the open front door—

“—and then Michael got shot in the head—don’t you dare pretend as if I had no reason to be concerned about your life, Sonny Corinthos! Your son was in a coma for a year! That terrified Jason! It terrified us both! How dare you come in here, how dare you—”

“How dare you use my son to make yourself feel better about the lies you told—”

Jake and Aiden were blocking the doorway, but Aiden saw Jason first, his eyes comically widening. He tugged Jake’s sleeve, and his son turned to look — his expression frozen in shock, his face white—

Christ, what the hell had Sonny said to make Jake look like that —

Jason stepped into the open space left by Aiden dragging his brother out of the way. “What the hell are you doing here, Sonny?” he demanding, blood pounding in his ears, the nerves just beneath his skin tingling as pure rage simmered just beneath the surface.

Sonny stood in the center of Elizabeth’s living room, his mouth pinched. Closer to the fireplace, Elizabeth’s arms were wrapped around her torso, as if she were trying to shield herself from a blow — from the verbal punches that Sonny was clearly throwing. Tears stained her cheeks.

Sonny’s hand fell to his side and he scowled at Elizabeth for another moment before facing Jason fully. “What do you think I’m doing here? Trying to stop you from making another mistake like the one you made with Jake—”

“He said my mother lied to you,” Jake said, and Jason whipped his head over to look at his son. “Did she? Did she tell you that you weren’t my father?”

Jason exhaled slowly, then dragged both hands down his face, counting to five in his head slowly because if he spoke now—if he said a single word before he could find a measure of calm—he’d say too much in front of Elizabeth and the boys—

“See, he’s not denying it—”

“Did you tell Jake the rest of it?” Jason said, his hands falling down. He reached for the edge of the door, slammed it so hard it shook in the frame. “Did you tell Jake every last damned detail?”

Sonny pursed his lips. “No—”

“What else is there? I deserve to know—”

“No, you don’t.” Jason looked at Jake then, at the flush in the younger man’s face. “You think you do, and I understand why that is. But you don’t deserve to know anything about my life or your mother’s before you were born. We were people who made mistakes that had nothing to do with you or with how much we love you.  It has nothing to do with why you’re angry with me now or why I haven’t told Alexis I’ll fight her for custody.”

“The hell it doesn’t—” Sonny started, but Jason took a step towards him and his friend must have realized he wasn’t entirely safe. He closed his mouth abruptly.

“Well, it’s too late now because I know—”

“You don’t know anything yet. Because Sonny’s about to tell you why your mother lied to me. Go ahead, Sonny.” Jason took another step towards him and Sonny actually backed up. “You wanted to have this conversation. Let’s have it.”

“Jason—” Elizabeth put herself between them. “I know you’re angry with Sonny, and you should be. But the boys—”

“They’ve heard enough, Elizabeth,” he said, careful to soften his tone. He reached for her, touched her elbows and gently guided her towards her sons. “I’m not saying we tell them everything, but if Sonny wants to talk about the day you supposedly lied to me, then let’s talk about it.”

“Supposedly? What—”

“Why am I not surprised you’re going to protect her—you have a right for your son to know everything, damn it—”

“Then why did you tell Elizabeth that it was a good thing I wasn’t Jake’s father?” Jason wanted to know. “Why did Carly rush over to tell me that I wasn’t the baby’s father before Elizabeth could tell me herself?”

“She was going to lie—”

“I w-wasn’t—I wasn’t—”

“And she didn’t. She never once told me Lucky was the father.”

Sonny opened his mouth, then closed it, grimacing. “You’re twisting what happened—”

“If I am, then I learned it from the best. You’re going to leave now,” Jason told him. “And you’re never going to speak to Elizabeth again. Not about this, not about anything. And especially not my son. Get out of this house before I remove you.”

Sonny stood there for another moment, clearly unsure of his own safety if he passed Jason which was the only exit available. Then, as if realizing Jason probably wouldn’t do violence in front of the boys. He dipped his head and left, slamming the door again.

Elizabeth flinched, then turned to her son. “Jake, I need to—”

“I don’t understand what the hell is going on right now. What was Mr. Corinthos talking about?” Jake demanded. “And why is Dad covering for you? Either you lied or you didn’t—”

“Your father is trying to—”

“I’m not covering—” Jason and Elizabeth spoke at the same time, then looked at one another, uncertain.

“I want some damn answers. Now,” Jake added, his voice breaking. “Is my whole life a life? What else aren’t you telling me?”

“Listen, um—” Aiden inched out from behind his brother. “As much I want to stay, maybe this would be easier if I weren’t here. I’ll, uh, go take a walk or something—”

“No, don’t bother. I’ll be the one to leave. I’m done with the both of you—” Jake headed for the door, yanking it open and was out the door before anyone could argue.

Elizabeth let out a cry and started after him, but Jason stopped her. He took her by the shoulders. “I’ll go. This happened because of me, okay?”

“But—”

He squeezed her shoulders, waited for her look at him, wishing he’d slugged Sonny anyway when he saw the abject misery in her eyes. “I’ll bring him back in. I promise.”

Without waiting for her answer, Jason sprinted out, catching Jake near the end of the drive way. He reached for Jake’s arm, intending to just stop him, but Jake swung out and clipped Jason on the edge of the jaw.

It stung slightly, but it didn’t knock Jason off balance. “You damn well better have known it was me coming after you,” he said flatly, holding Jake in place by the arm when he tried to struggle free. “Because if you ever swing on your mother, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I would never do that!” Jake retorted, disgusted. “I knew it was you, and I just wish I’d hit you harder—let me go—”

“Not until you listen to me, damn it.” Jake tried to wrestle free again, but Jason’s grip was like granite, and for once in his life, he knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to handle this. He wasn’t defending himself, wasn’t even thinking of Jake’s feelings towards him.

All he could think about was the grenade Sonny had just thrown in the middle of Elizabeth’s living room, and he’d be damned if Sonny would destroy her relationship with Jake.

“You want to know what happened before you were born, I’ll tell you. But none of it is pretty, and some of it isn’t about me or your mother. It’s about other people who aren’t here to defend themselves—or do you think this is how Aiden should learn his father was a lying, cheating slimy drug addict who did nothing but make your mother miserable?”

Jake froze, then swallowed hard. “W-What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think Sonny would mention that part.” Jason released his son, relieved when Jake remained still.  “Your mother and I were friends for years. And years before that summer, we’d nearly been more. But our timing was never right. I had just broken my engagement to Sam, and she was married to Lucky. She was happy with him until he was injured, developed a pill addiction, and slept with another woman. She caught him in bed with her, and left. Things happened, Jake, and when she realized she was pregnant, she told me, and we did a paternity test. But communication got crossed, and I thought—I thought you were Lucky’s. So I told her it was for the best before she could ever tell me the truth.”

Jake stared at him, his mouth slightly open. He looked down, swallowed hard, then looked up. “You didn’t want me then either?”

Shit. “All I could think about was how much I wanted to be your father.” Jason flattened a hand against his chest. “I’ve loved you since the second I knew you existed. I loved you before I knew you were mine. When Carly told me you weren’t, it killed me. But I didn’t want Elizabeth to know, I didn’t want her to think she’d disappointed, so I lied to her. It’s the only lie I’ve ever told her, and I’ll never regret anything more in my life. I used to think about it all the time — wishing I had that moment back and I’d just told her how much I wanted you.”

“I d-don’t—” Jake swiped his hand angrily across his cheek, brushing away a few errant tears. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Why was Mr. Corinthos yelling at Mom? Why did he tell me?”

“Because he and I had an argument, and Sonny doesn’t know how to fight his own battles,” Jason bit out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s complicated, everything that happened later, but I need you to go back inside. I need you to not to walk out on your mother. She loves you, and she didn’t deserve what Sonny just did. She was—and probably is—still deeply ashamed for how she handled everything back then, but I forgave her a long time ago.”

“How—she lied to you—she could have told you anyway?” Jake shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. Mom lied to you about me. She said someone else was my father—”

“Why I forgave her isn’t important. Just know that I did almost immediately. Please—”

Jake looked past him, towards the house. “I don’t understand. I wouldn’t be able to forgive that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to forget that she did that—how am I supposed to forget that you left me—” He closed his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut. “You left me. And you didn’t care—did you even think about me? Or-or Danny?”

“I wouldn’t let myself. I couldn’t.” Jason had to force the words, had to find the right words to make Jake go back inside. “Because I couldn’t come home. I can’t—” Couldn’t talk about it. Couldn’t think about it. “Jake. When I said that I’ve loved you since the beginning, I mean that. There has never  been a single day, a second that I haven’t wanted you. That I haven’t loved you. I know you don’t believe that, and I understand it—but your mother—”

“You keep defending her, but she lied—she lied just like you did—” Jake shook his head, took a step back. “I can’t. It’s like I don’t know either of you—”

“Really? Really? You’re going to let one lie that she told before you were even born change every thing you know about your mother?” Irritated beyond reason, Jason released his son. “She nearly died bringing you into this world, but I guess that doesn’t matter to you, does it? She walked through a burning house to save your life, but that doesn’t matter. When you were kidnapped, when the Cassadines made her believe you were dead, she grieved until she nearly drove herself mad—when has your mother ever given you a reason not to believe in her? If you let something some angry son of a bitch screamed at her so that he could feel better about himself—if you let that change the last seventeen years of your life, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

Jake pressed his lips together, looked down at the ground. “I’m angry all the time,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “And I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to stop being mad at you, and now Mom—and Danny—he makes me mad too because he believes in you, and I want to tell him to stop, I want to stop him from thinking you’ll save the day, because I used to think that and then you were alive and not dead, and I hated you. I hated you for leaving, for not coming back, for not loving me enough to stay—and you’re doing it again to Danny, and Mom is always defending you just like you defend her—and I’m just angry—” He broke off, looked away. “I don’t know how to stop,” he repeated.

“I can’t fix that in a day. In a conversation,” Jason said. He tipped his head to the side, trying to capture Jake’s gaze, waiting until their eyes met. “And I can’t stop your mom from defending me. I’ve been trying that since before you were born. She doesn’t listen very well, does she?”

“No. No, she doesn’t.” Jake swiped at his cheek again. “Are you going to let Danny stay with his grandmother? Are you going to leave him again?”

“I’m done with all of that. I’m done being anything other than your father. Being Danny’s father. I’m not leaving him. Or you again. But I can’t prove that today. If you want me in your life—if he wants me, then I’m here.”

“We’ll see,” Jake muttered. He looked past Jason again, at the house. “Did you tie Mom down or something? I figured she’d be out here by now.”

“I told her I’d bring you back to her. That’s one promise I’ve never broken, and I’m hoping to keep it again today. Will you come back inside and talk to your mother?”

December 27, 2024

This entry is part 7 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 62 minutes. The ending got away from me, lol, I was going to wrap it up and then they kept talking —  story of my damn life with these two.


Dear reader
You don’t have to answer, just ’cause they asked you
(You should find another)

Aiden peered through the window, trying to get a better angle on the driveway. “I can’t see them. Maybe they left.”

Elizabeth rubbed her cheeks, trying to erase all evidence of her furious tears not wanting Jake or Jason to know how upset she’d been. She went into the kitchen, switched the faucet to cold water and splashed her face.

Aiden came to the doorway of the kitchen. “Mom?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.” She turned, looked at her youngest son. “Really. It’s—you know, adults they have fights and Sonny was having a bad day—”

“He sounded really mad at you,” Aiden said dubiously, and Elizabeth exhaled in a short huff. “I didn’t know you knew each other like that—”

“We don’t. We really don’t.” Not well enough for Sonny to be lobbing such horrible words at her, words that she’d thought deep down—accusations that he’d clearly been holding on to for a long time. Had Jason said them once upon a time? Had he buried resentment for how she’d handled things?

With that horrible thought now lurking, she bit down on her bottom lip, drying her hands on dish towel. “Aiden, I know you’ve got a lot of questions. I just—I don’t know any answers.”

“I don’t even know what I’d ask.” Aiden stuck his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know if I ever thought about before I was born. You and Dad have never been together from what I remember, but it sounds like—were you married when Jake was born?”

Damn Sonny Corinthos and his big mouth. “Yes. Technically—” Elizabeth winced. “It’s complicated, Aiden, and it’s not something I want to explain to you right now.” Or ever.

“Yeah, I get that. I just—is Jason why you and Dad got divorced? I’m not judging you, Mom—”

Oh, but he would. They all would. Just like they had then. After being forced to admit her night with Jason on the stand, rumors had swirled about Jake for years—no one had been all that surprised when they were confirmed after the accident. Angry. Upset. But not surprised.

And that wasn’t long after she’d gone through that horrifying period when her affair with Nikolas with had become public. Oh, God. Why was it all coming back now? Why, why

“I don’t want to upset you, Mom. So forget I asked—”

“The reasons your father and I aren’t together are…not entirely for me to say,” Elizabeth said finally. “There are things I don’t know if Lucky wants me to talk about without him. Or at all.” And they were Lucky’s secrets, his shame to keep. They had nothing to do with who she was now, or his relationship with Aiden.

She gripped the counter in front of her, sorting through the chaos in her head, debating at what to do. She wanted to run after Jake—but Jason had seemed so sure—

And, oh, what had Jason told Sonny for him be so angry at Elizabeth? Had Jason told him about last night?

“Mom—”

“Aiden, I appreciate that you’re confused and upset about what just happened here, and God, I would really like to reassure you. To make that go away, but I can’t, okay? So just give me a minute. Please.”

When she saw Aiden flinch, look down, her stomach sank even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just—okay. Okay—” She came around the counter, took him by the shoulder and guided him towards the sofa, trying to find her balance again. To find her center. It had taken so long to come to terms with the mistakes of her past—to forgive herself—

Why hadn’t it occurred to her that someone might want to use them against her some day? And she remembered, too vividly, the betrayal Lucky had felt when his parents’ past had been thrown in his face by Nikolas.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” Elizabeth sat Aiden on the sofa, then perched on the coffee table across from him. She rubbed her forehead. “Your father and I dated in high school, then we were apart for a while when he was kidnapped by the Cassadines. We talked about that once, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. She waited for him to look at her, with those curious eyes that reminded her so much of Lucky during those halcyon days. “When he came home, we tried again. We even got married, but it was never really the same. We loved each other, but sometimes things happen. We had some really difficult rough patches. We divorced, and during that time, Jake—well, Jake happened. Your father and I remarried but we divorced again within the year. We tried again and we got you, but we couldn’t love each other anymore. Not the way either of us deserved. The reasons we broke up — the reasons we took those breaks — they’re painful, baby, and they’re deeply personal, and your father and I will have a conversation about whether or not we want to share any of it with you. You can ask as many questions as you like, but I won’t promise to answer.”

Aiden pressed his lips together. “I guess that’s fair. I know Jake’s dad was mad when he said it, but I guess he’s kind of right. Me and Jake, we don’t really have a right to know stuff like that. But it’s just—”

“It’s out in the world now, and you’re curious. I understand that, I really do. And I’ll talk to your father. I promise. We’ll try very hard to figure out something that we can all live with. Lucky might even want to tell you some of those things. But it’s his story to tell just as much as it’s mine. Just like Jason’s story is his, and not mine to tell to you or to Jake.”

“I—” Aiden was interrupted when the doorknob twisted behind them. Elizabeth was already up and crossing the living room when Jake came in, Jason just behind him. Jason looked worn out and Jake looked miserable —

Oh, but he’d come back and that was something, wasn’t it?

“Jake—” Elizabeth stopped herself from reaching for her son, clasped her hands together. “I’m glad you came back in. We need to talk—”

“Dad answered some of my questions, I guess. The important ones. And I guess I—” he stopped, grimaced. “I guess I still don’t really understand any of it, but if you lied about who my dad was, it’s not like you lied to me. At least that I remember. You always said Dad—anyway—” He looked away, his throat working hard when he swallowed hard. “Dad said he forgave you, and maybe I don’t get that, but whatever. It’s not my thing to understand.”

“I’ve never really understood it either if that helps,” Elizabeth admitted. “You have to know I deeply regret it. I’d give anything to take it back—” She looked at Jason now. “Anything in the world to have that moment back to do the right thing.”

“So would I,” Jason replied. He came out from behind Jake, touching his son’s shoulder lightly. “But I understand if you’re still upset. If you still have questions. I just—”

“Yeah, I know. You and Mom probably wanna get together with Aiden’s dad and come up with a story or something.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t—I don’t want to come up with a story, Jake. I’m not trying to lie about what happened. It’s just—”

“Whatever. I’m done talking about this. I put my suitcase in your trunk last night,” he told his mother. “Can I have your keys so I can get it?”

“Of course.” Elizabeth hurried to the hook, snatched her keys down and held them out. “Whatever you need—”

“What I need is to get out of here for a little while. Can I borrow the car when I’m done or do you need it?”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, folded her arms, tried to keep her voice even. She wanted to keep talking, wanted to keep Jake right where she could see him, but he wasn’t looking at her. Hadn’t even met her eyes since he’d come back in— “Of course. You—you probably want to check in friends. Take the car. Take whatever you need.”

“Hey, maybe you can drop me off at Tobias’s,” Aiden said, appearing from behind Elizabeth. “I, uh, think maybe Mom needs a minute.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jake looked at Jason, lifted his chin a little defiantly. “I came back in like you asked. Can I go now?”

Jason tensed, and Elizabeth could tell he wanted to say something else, but he just nodded. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll talk later.”

“Can’t wait,” Jake muttered. He yanked the door open, and left, Aiden hurrying behind.

When the door closed, Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged and she turned away from Jason, putting her head in her hands. What the hell had just happened? What the hell had just happened?

“I’ll talk to Sonny. I’ll make sure he never comes back here — that he stays away from you and the boys.”

She fisted her hair in her hands, tugging so that the pricks of pain at her scalp blunted some of the swirling discomfort in her abdomen, the tightness in her chest. “Why he did he do  this? Why did he come here and—”

Elizabeth turned finally, looked at him, the tears she’d struggled to hold back burning. “What did you say to him that made him come here and attack me? I did nothing to him—I did—” She brought a fist to her mouth, bit down on her knuckle. “Aiden’s asking questions and if he asks the wrong person, he’ll find out about Lucky’s drug addiction, and God, maybe about Maxie and Sam, and we’ve all moved on from that. That’s the last thing anyone needs. And what if someone tells him about Nikolas? About—” Fury crawled up her throat and she looked at Jason again, standing there, stone silent. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing that justifies this—”

“You must have said something—” She broke off before she said something she couldn’t take back. She wasn’t the victim here. And Jason wasn’t the villain. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t think straight, okay? I was going to call you, to apologize for how I handled that conversation last night, and then Sonny—”

“You did nothing wrong,” Jason said, taking a step forward. “Okay? Sonny’s angry at me. He’s—he’s disappointed in me. Just like you are. Because I don’t—I don’t know why,” he muttered. “Everyone thinks I’m supposed to have the answers, that I’m supposed to know the right thing to do—”

Elizabeth blinked as he turned away, his jaw clenched, the vein in his throat bulging. “Jason—”

“I told him that I was handling this, that I wanted to make sure I was doing right by Danny, but it’s not good enough for him. It’s not good enough for you—”

“That’s not what I—”

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Jason demanded, turning back to her, his voice raised. “Drag Danny out of the Quartermaines? Shove him in that room above Bobbie’s? I don’t even have my own bathroom. Or maybe I’m supposed to take him back to the penthouse without his mother or sister—”

“No one said—”

“Alexis buried a grandchild and a daughter, and I’m supposed to tell her I’m going to fight her in court? What would I even tell a judge?” Jason demanded. “Hey, I’ve been dead for two years, but I promise I’m a good father?”

“Okay. Let’s—” Elizabeth held out a hand. “Let’s just take a deep breath. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” she said again when he just looked at her. “I was so wrong last night, so frustrated with you, and impatient, and I had no right to be.”

“You didn’t do anything—”

“Don’t forgive me so easily. Please don’t.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “It’s just—okay, I was worried you wouldn’t fight for Danny, but you’re so right. You’re handling this exactly the way you should be. It’s not a cut and dried situation. Especially with Scout involved. I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Don’t apologize to me. Even if I agreed that you were wrong, and I don’t, I know you’re just  trying to help. I know that.” Jason looked towards the door. “It’s not enough that I can’t fix Danny’s life—Jake’s angry at me for defending you, and he’s angry at you and he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be, okay?”

She bit her lip, looked at the ground. “I never expected anyone to tell him about…about all of that. It  felt like everyone had moved on. I mean, you and Jake, you had each other—”

“Elizabeth, you told me the truth before Jake was born,” he reminded her. He took a step towards her, waiting until she looked up, met his eyes. “You don’t get to argue with why I forgave you in that elevator, and Jake doesn’t get to sit in judgment with either one of us for it. He can be angry at me for not being in his life, for letting the lie stand for as long as it did — but I walked away from you and the boys. I made that a permanent choice—”

“But I started it—”

“I finished it.” He rubbed her shoulder. “We forgave each other a long time ago for all of that. We did that to each other. Sonny doesn’t get an opinion. Neither does Jake.”

“I never wanted my boys to know how horrible I was. How many terrible decisions I made — I was reckless and stupid, and I deserved every bit of pain—but they don’t deserve  this. Aiden has so many questions, and—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “No. No. You’re right. We forgave each other. Lucky forgave me. The two of you are civil, and that’s what matters. We’ll focus on making sure Jake is okay, and I’ll talk to Lucky to see what he wants to do, but Sonny—”

“I’m going to talk him as soon as I can be sure I don’t put him through a window. I can’t believe he came here—” Jason broke off, shook his head. “I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“He thinks that I’m the reason you don’t think you’re a good father.” Elizabeth bit her lip, searched his expression. “Is that what you think? That you’re not a good father?”

“It’s—” Jason exhaled. “It’s not because of you. Okay? And being a good father — whether I am or not, that’s up to Jake and Danny. It’s whether or not I have a right to force myself on my sons when I took myself out of their lives.”

“But you didn’t choose to do that. You didn’t—” Elizabeth went still when Jason looked away. “You said you couldn’t contact us. That you couldn’t come home. But you didn’t choose to leave, did you? To make us think you were dead—you wouldn’t do that—” She broke off, her voice faltering when Jason remained silent.

Elizabeth stepped back, hugging herself more tightly. “Did you know we thought you were dead, Jason?”

“Y-yes. I—I knew.” Jason took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you more than that—”

“Does Sonny know where you were? Does Carly?”

“Elizabeth.” But from his eyes, she knew the answer was yes. Of course they knew. Who else—

“Sam didn’t want you around Danny, but she changed her mind. She knew where you were, didn’t she?”

“I—I told her, but—”

“It’s just me that can’t know. Right. Right. Sonny and Carly and Sam.” She took a deep breath. “Okay.    Listen. Thanks for coming over. We’ll have to talk to Jake about school some other time. I have to deal with all of this—” She started towards the door,  her hand was on the door knob when he spoke.

“I was an informant. For the FBI. I worked for John Cates.”

December 31, 2024

This entry is part 8 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 55 minutes. I meant to have a second scene but this first one just took time to get right, but I’m happy with how it came out.


Dear reader
The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

The moment Jake learned that his father was still alive was burned in his brain, doomed to repeat itself on a loop, to be etched forever as a symbol of the fucked up relationship he’d had with his father since the day he’d returned from Greece.

He’d been lounging on his bed, switching back and forth between Snapchat and Tiktok, plotting how to sneak out with friends that weekend, endlessly scrolling instead of rolling over and going to sleep. Then he’d gotten an alert, a 911 text from a friend whose father worked at the PCPD.

yo dude they put out a apb on ur dad thats hella weird aint he dead

Jake had jerked straight up, his blood running cold, reading the words over and over again. He’d wanted it to be a lie. He’d tried everything.

hes dead dickwad april fools is for kids im gonna kick ur ass when i see u

There was no such thing as silence, not truly. He’d sat in that room, not speaking, not moving, but he was suddenly aware of every single sound. The creak of the steps when his brother sprinted down them, the wind from his open window, the cars pulling to a stop at the traffic light a block away, the squeal of brakes from those who waited too long—

no cap dude look its all over news turn on tv

His friend had attached the screenshot of an article from the Port Charles Sun website — COP SHOT BY MOBSTER BACK FROM THE DEAD!

Below the headline he found his father. They’d used one of his many mugshots and Jake had stared at that image — it was from his arrest the year he’d died. When the PCPD thought he’d murdered Franco. Everyone thought it — Cameron, Aiden, everyone at school — even his mother, who was careful not to say and had always defended Jason, harbored doubts.

But Jake never had. His dad was a complicated guy who’d done some crimes, sure. But cold-blooded murder? Of Jake’s stepfather?  No fucking way. And Jake had been right. Jason had been exonerated, and the world had gone back to normal for a while.

Until the tunnels in Greece had stolen his father away for good this time. He’d died trying to help someone, his mother had said, fighting back tears. It was a devastating loss for them all, Jake knew. Jason was more than just his dad, he was Mom’s best friend, and always had been.

Jake stared at the image for a long moment, then went back to the messages.

its a mistake my dad is dead theyre wrong

idk theres a vid ill try to find out more maybe its good news its cool if he came back right don’t u want ur dad to be alive?

Desperately.

He’d never answered his friend, had tossed the phone aside, and gone for the television downstairs, only to find Aiden already glued to the screen, and by the time his mother had called from the hospital, Jake knew it was true.

His dad was alive. He was wanted for trying to kill Dante. But this time Jake couldn’t believe in his dad. How could he?

His dad had pretended to be dead for over two years. If he could do that — if he could fake his death and run away from all of them, then maybe Jake had never known him at all.

It didn’t matter that his father was exonerated of that, too. Or that he’d showed up looking older and more worn — more tired — but still looking like his dad. It didn’t matter that he said all the right things or that his mother very carefully tried to support Jake while defending Jason —

None of that mattered.

Because there’d been that moment, that awful moment, and Jake couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t ignore it. He tried for his mother, he tried for his brother, he tried for himself, and he thought he’d managed it. His dad paid for school, went with him to the airport, and they’d talked a few times on the phone — but never for long. And nothing more than a check in.

Because Jake couldn’t stop remembering that night, sitting in his room, the horrible, awful feeling that his father had left them. Left him.

And it was that anger that had exploded today, that anger that fueled Jake as he drove away from his mother’s house, driving aimlessly after dropping Aiden off at his boyfriend’s.

When he found himself near Kelly’s, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast and lunch. Jake pulled into the parking lot, hoping he could duck in and out without running into anyone.

He scanned the inside of the diner from the courtyard, but he’d missed Michael sitting in the back corner with his daughter. His cousin lifted a hand in greeting, and Jake sighed, knowing he couldn’t walk away. He scanned his memory for the kid’s name — Amy or something — and headed back.

“This is a nice surprise.” Michael rose and hugged Jake lightly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was in a sad way, Jake thought, not a lying way. “We haven’t ordered yet, so you can join us.” He tilted his head. “Unless you’re in a hurry.”

To go back home? Not a chance. “Nah. This is a good. It’s, uh, nice to see you. I guess. Not—” He winced, dropped into the chair across from his cousin. “That’s not what I meant. I mean—”

“I get it. You’re home for a sad reason, so yeah, I’m glad we can catch up but I wish we couldn’t, you know?”

“Yeah.” Jake released his first easy breath. “Yeah, that’s it.” He picked up the menu, pretended to read it. “Um, how are you? The kids—” He peered over the menu to the toddler who beamed at him.

“Growing up way too fast,” Michael said, dumping a few more puffs on the kid’s little tray. “Amelia will be two in a few months. I don’t really know where the time’s gone, you know? Wiley just turned six.”

“Six,” Jake repeated. He rubbed his temple. “That did happen fast.”

Michael opened his mouth, but the waitress came over before he could say anything. When she’d left, taking their orders with her, he folded his arms on the table, leaned forward. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you’re probably worried about your brother, but I don’t know, you just look—” He wrinkled his nose. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Seems to be the theme today,” Jake muttered, then sighed when Michael lifted his brows. “I dunno. I’m still mad at my dad,” he admitted. “And…um, well, your dad came by my house today. I guess you should know that.”

“My dad? Why?” Michael asked suspiciously. “Not that he can’t, but he and your mom aren’t, like, super close.”

“No, clearly. They were arguing — or he was yelling at her—and it all just kind of—” Jake pressed his lips together. “Did you know that my mom lied to my dad about me? I mean, that he was my father?”

Michael’s mouth parted and his eyes widened. “Whoa—oh, man, is that what my dad said? That’s like ancient history. Why would he bring it up?”

Jake reached for a napkin, began to shred it into tiny pieces. “I dunno. Something about my mom being the reason my dad thinks he’s not a good father or some shit like that. I didn’t overhear a lot, because Dad showed up and he was really.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Michael dragged a hand down his cheek. “Oh, man,” he repeated. “I can’t even begin to think why Dad thought that was a good idea, but well, it’s not like he’s had a lot of common sense this year, and I wish like hell I could blame the way Ava screwed with his meds, but I can’t. Parents are exhausting, you know that?”

Jake snorted, feeling the first stirrings of amusement. “Yeah, they definitely are. But you probably win that contest.”

“Oh, definitely. Listen, we could get into the wildness that was that era because I do know some of it,” Michael admitted, “but I gotta tell you, as someone who once learned a whole lot of awful things about my childhood and what went down before I was born, it’s a slippery slope. Because your parents are humans who make giant mistakes, and it’s hard to go back to when they were just…you know, your parents.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Jake reached for his soda, considering Michael’s words. He swirled the straw in his glass. “I always knew Dad was complicated. I mean, even before he came home after the Cassadines took him and that coma thing — I had Drew—” He hesitated when he saw Michael’s mouth tighten, but it was gone so quickly he thought he imagined it. “But Drew was supposed to be Jason Morgan, right? So, like, you can’t grow up and not know. And he was always in and out of trouble. It’s just, like, that always seemed separate. Like that guy was—” Jake gestured. “Out there. And my dad was this other guy.”

“You separate them,” Michael said nodding in agreement. “Because you can’t really make it work in your head how they’re the same guy. I definitely get that, Jake.”

“But I always thought my dad—” Jake paused, took a deep breath. “I always knew he loved me. He was so careful, you know, when he came home. So super cool if I wanted to be around Drew. Just really let me get through how weird it was. But we did get through it.” His throat tightened. “We really got through it, and then he was just my dad, and I could, like, always call him. And my mom, she’s always been the best. I basically thought she was perfect. Even when I knew she wasn’t, she was my mom.”

“And now they both feel like strangers,” Michael said gently.

Jake couldn’t look up, his vision slightly blurred. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been where you are, Jake. It’s not easy. It’s the hardest thing I ever did—confronting who my parents were — and some of the things they did that affected me. It was impossible for a while, actually. I walked away from them both because I couldn’t find a way through my anger. I couldn’t stop being angry.”

“Yeah?” Jake lifted his head. “How’d you fix it?”

“I didn’t. It can’t be fixed. You can’t go back to who you were before. There’s no magic trick. But I can love my mother, I can be in a room with my father. I can be around my parents, and have them in my life. It took time, Jake. But the day is gonna come when you’ll wake up and realize that your parents still love you. That you still love them. And you’re not as angry anymore. At least not at them.”

Jake sighed. “Okay, but what if I just punch someone? Do you think that would help?”

Michael’s lips twitched and he leaned back. “Oh, yeah, that’s your dad talking. You’d feel better for a little while, but you’re an artist, Jake. It’s not worth it.”

“I hate that you’re right. It’s annoying.”

Michael grinned now, the humor reaching his eyes and lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what Joss says, too. Being the oldest is a heavy cross to bear, but somehow I manage it gracefully.

January 7, 2025

This entry is part 9 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Shorter than I wanted it to be, but I really wanted to get the dialogue of this scene right.


Dear reader
When you aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss

She didn’t turn around right away. One hand remained on the door knob, and the other resting against the door itself, her head dipped so that her gaze was on the carpet beneath their feet.

She didn’t turn around, Jason thought, but she didn’t open the door. She didn’t say a word. Deciding to take that as a positive, he stepped towards her. “I didn’t mean for you to be the last to know.” Had never even made that connection until right this minute — that one by one, he’d told every other important person in his life, and that somehow, she’d ended up at the end of the list —

“It’s because I didn’t ask.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, then slowly turned. Her eyes were still red, the skin slightly swollen from the tears caused by Sonny’s insanity and Jake’s anger. But her expression was unreadable to him now — that careful guarded look that she only rarely reached for. “I didn’t think you’d tell me. You never do.”

“I—” Jason stopped, stumped slightly by that response. “Yes.”

“I should know better after all these years, I guess.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “You typically respond to direct questions if you can. Or you tell me flat out you can’t say. I didn’t ask. So I guess I can’t complain that you didn’t tell me.”

He squinted, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Bewildered by the turn in the conversation. “I—”

“Let me guess. You told Sonny because you were accused of shooting Dante, and that you’d tried to kill him and he needed to believe that you hadn’t betrayed at him. And if I know Carly, she was probably in the room so that’s why she knows.”

“Yes—”

“And Sam—Sam didn’t want you to see Danny. So you told her so that maybe she’d change her mind.” Elizabeth folded her arms, tipped her head. “But I didn’t keep you from Jake. And I didn’t accuse you of anything horrible, so I didn’t ask and you didn’t have a reason to tell me.”

“That—I can’t tell you’re if you’re still mad at me,” Jason said finally. “Just tell me—”

Elizabeth exhaled, looked away, her brow furrowed as if she were internally debating the question. “No,” she said after a beat. Then she met his gaze. “Because I don’t need to be told you wouldn’t betray Sonny. And I wouldn’t use your job to keep you from your son. Not ever again. You didn’t have a reason to tell me. I wasn’t demanding answers from you. And the few times I tried to bring it up, you changed the subject. I let you do that,” she told him, “because I don’t want anything from you that I have to beg you for.”

He dragged a hand down his face, grimaced. “It sounds like you’re mad about something else now,” he muttered.

She smiled now, just a slight twitch of her lips. “Not mad. Just disappointed. After all these years, you still don’t trust me or anyone else very much. That’s not the right word—because I know it’s not about trust—”

“Then what is it about? Tell me and I’ll fix it—”

“It’s not something you fix, Jason. Because you were wrong not to tell me, but not because I’m Jake’s mother, or because we’ve been friends for so long. Because you need to tell someone. You went away for more than two years, and this time you knew. You were awake, and it was a conscious choice. You woke up every day and didn’t pick up a phone. You let everyone who loves you think you were dead. You made that choice not once, Jason, but more than six hundred times.”

Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “And the one thing I do know about you is that you would never do that unless you thought you had to. So, no, I’m not angry that you were working for John Cates. Or that you were an informant. All of that — if you want to tell me more, I’ll listen. But I’m more interested in those choices you made.”

“There’s nothing interesting about that—”

“You’re wrong,” Elizabeth said gently, and so firmly that Jason just stared at her. “I thought you looked different when you came home. You agreed. Now I know why. The weight of all those days you lived without us, knowing that we grieved you, knowing that you would have to come home someday and face it — that weight doesn’t just go away because it’s over.”

His throat tightened, and he looked away, slid his hands back in his pockets. “I can’t change what I did.”

“No, you can’t.” She folded her arms again, and sighed. “It’s funny. I’m so angry at Sonny for the way he handled all of this, and I don’t intend to let him off the hook. But he’s got one thing right—”

“No, he doesn’t—”

“Yes, he does. You think you don’t have the right to fight for Danny in court. To stand up and demand your rights as a father. And you can blame me for it, and I could point fingers at Sonny or Carly, but at the end of the day, Jason, you’re the one who believes it.”

“Maybe all of that’s true,” Jason said slowly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have the answers. Just because Danny is my son, that doesn’t mean living with me is the best choice—”

“Why not? He thought you were dead, Jason! He had both his parents back for a handful of months, and just like that—” Elizabeth snapped her fingers, and Jason flinched. “His mother is dead, and his whole world is upside down again. You’re his father. You love him, I know you do. He needs you and he needs to remember he’s only fourteen years old! He’s not an adult. Jake is putting off school because he doesn’t trust you to put Danny first.”

“I’m trying to—” Jason dragged his hands through his hair. “I’m trying to—”

“No, you’re sitting back like you always do. Reacting. Waiting for someone else to make the first move. You always did that to me, Jason, and it drove me insane because it meant I had to do what I thought was right for you and I sucked at it. You’re the only one who knows what’s right for you.”

“It seems like you’re still doing it. Still trying to tell me what’s best for me—” He clenched his jaw, and could feel the vein at his temple throb.

“Yeah, and you used to hate that. So get mad and tell me to go to hell—” Elizabeth held up a hand, lifted her brows. “Oh, sorry, I wouldn’t want to tell you what to do. Old habits die hard, you know. Sonny was out of line, Jason, but he did it because he thinks you won’t. Carly stomps around in your life because she knows you won’t stop her. Sam and I make—” She closed her eyes. “We made decisions for the boys because we knew you wouldn’t.” She opened her eyes, met his gaze directly. “Stop worrying about everyone else, Jason. Stop trying to do the right thing. To please everyone. To be everything to everyone. Put yourself first.”

“How do you I know that’s not what I was doing for two years?” Jason demanded, irritated beyond measure that every word she said was the absolute, devastating truth. “Maybe I was doing what I wanted, and that’s why I feel guilty. Maybe it was a relief to be away from all of this, from the demands and expectations, and the regrets and the hurt, and the mistakes—maybe I have nothing to feel sorry for at all. Maybe I liked it because it was simple. I had a job, I did the job, and I went on to the next thing. Maybe—” He broke off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Maybe I’m not the person I used to be, and everyone looking for me to be someone I’m not is what pisses me off.”

He stopped again, this time closing his mouth, mortified that any of those words had come from him, unsure how he could drag them back, shove them deep down where they belonged, in the dark. Just like him.

There was a long, terrifying moment of silence as they stared at each other, and then, for some reason, Elizabeth smiled. A true smile this time, one that reached her eyes. “Do you feel better?”

“I—” Jason paused. “What?”

“Do you feel better?” Elizabeth repeated.

“I—” He considered the question, because of course he didn’t feel better. How could he? He’d just spewed a bunch of a bullshit that wasn’t anything like what he really felt, except—

It was.

“I didn’t mean it—”

“Don’t walk it back.” Elizabeth came forward, closing the distance between. She reached for the edges of his jacket, tugging the sides straight. “Look at me.” She said nothing until he did as she asked, meeting her eyes again. “There’s no judgment here. Do you feel better?”

“Y-yes,” Jason finally admitted. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no. Don’t. Jason.” Her eyes softened. “Do you think I believe for a second you didn’t miss our son? That you didn’t worry about him or Danny or Michael or anyone here? Do you think for a second that I believe you were off living a happy life free of all the demands here?”

“No. No. I wasn’t—”

“I know.” She smoothed his jacket again, then let her hands fall back to her sides, took a step back. “But a piece of you was. And it’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

February 4, 2025

This entry is part 10 of 50 in the series Dear Reader

Written in 65 minutes.


Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart

Michael leaned against the doorframe of his father’s office, then cleared his throat when Sonny didn’t look up from whatever he was writing.

“Michael.” Sonny dropped the pen, pushed his chair back slightly, then squinted. “Was I expecting you?”

“No.” Michael folded his arms. “I was at Bobbie’s having lunch with Amelia and I ran into a familiar face.”

Sonny’s mouth tightened and he looked away. “Your uncle.”

“No. My cousin.”

Sonny focused on him again, the corner of his eyes crinkling with confusion. “Cousin?”

“Jake. He told me a pretty interesting story.” Michael waited, hoping his father would launch into a defense or say something that would make Jake’s story less horrible. When Sonny just sighed, looked away, Michael knew it had likely been worse than Jake had described. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Dad. What in the hell were you thinking going to Elizabeth’s house like that? Spewing all of that crap where Jake could hear you?”

He came forward into the office, let his arms fall to his side. “Dad, tell me you have a good reason—“

“I had one when I went there,” Sonny muttered. He stroked his jaw. “Jason and I had a conversation this morning. I wasn’t happy with how it went, and I know who to blame for making him think he doesn’t have a right to his own kid. So I went to talk to Elizabeth to make her see sense, to find a way to get Jason to do the right thing—“

“Ah. You decided Jason didn’t know what what was best for him and tried to control his choices—“

“No! You’re not—“ Sonny scowled, threw up his hand. “Sure, you’ll take Jake’s side—“

“Jake’s side? Dad. You’ve lost the plot on this one. You really have. You’re just lucky Jason didn’t kick  your ass—“

“The day’s not over yet.”

Michael and Sonny both looked at the new voice, and Michael winced when he saw his uncle standing in the doorway, that familiar stone-faced expression and icy glint in his eyes. “Jase—“

“Not right now,” Jason said to Michael who closed his mouth because he wasn’t an idiot. He walked past Michael to the desk where Sonny slowly rose to his feet, his hands fisted at his side. “You and me? We’re done.”

“Don’t overreact—“ Sonny started from behind the desk. “I was trying to help—“

“I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t need it.” Jason didn’t move, and had never resembled a glacier more, Michael thought. Just a brittle pillar of rock hard, immovable ice. “Attacking Elizabeth is bad enough—“

“Is that what she said?” Sonny scoffed. “She never could handle the truth—“

“Dad, I’m gonna advise you to shut up,” Michael interrupted. “Jason—“

“Attacking Elizabeth is bad enough,” Jason repeated as if neither of them had spoken. “She’s an adult and can defend herself. But you should have shut your mouth the second those kids walked into the room and you know it.”

Sonny let out a slow exhale, then rubbed his temple. “Yeah, okay. Yeah, you’re right. I should have—“

“For decades I’ve put your family first. I’ve taken care of your kids. I would have given my life for them. I’ve sacrificed time with my sons for yours.” Jason looked at Michael. “I don’t regret it,” he told his nephew who only nodded. Because this wasn’t about any of that, and Michael knew it. Jason refocused on. “I did that because I thought we were family. But you never saw my children as part of yours. You did what you did today to hurt Elizabeth, and you didn’t give a damn about my son. You hurt Jake, and you hurt his brother. So we’re done now. That’s it.”

“Jason, come on—“ Sonny started after Jason but the younger man had already turned and left the office. His scowl deepened. “He doesn’t see that I was trying to help—“

“That’s what Mom always says, too, right after she’s destroyed something,” Michael offered and Sonny threw him a dirty look. “What do you want me to say, Dad? You’ve sunk to a new low this year. You and I both know what secrets I’m keeping—what you nearly let happen to Alexis—“ He looked away, troubled. “What I nearly let happen.”

“That has nothing to do with it—“

“Jason stepped up after it was done, didn’t he? Made sure it could never come back to you. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t second guess. He’s right. He’s always done everything you needed him. Everything I needed. Morgan, Kristina, Joss, hell, even Dante — he saved Dante’s life on that pier even though it blew his cover and he ended up with a bullet for his trouble. What have you done for Jake or Danny that’s even near any of that?”

“It’s not the same thing—“

Michael just looked at his father for a long moment, then shook his head. “You wouldn’t listen even if I tried to explain, so why bother? I learned a long time you only care about yourself. Good luck, Dad. You’ll need it.”

Elizabeth paced the length of her living room, back and forth, clutching her cell phone in her hand, willing it to ring. Wiling Jake to call her. Or to walk through the door. If she could just get him in the room, just explain—

There was a light knock at the door, and then Lucky was pushing the door open, stepping inside. “Hey. You, uh, you said it was an emergency. Everything okay?”

She made a face, then sighed. It wasn’t Lucky’s fault he wasn’t the person she wanted to see walking through her door. “I mean, we’re alive. But there was…a scene earlier. Sonny came over, and he just—I don’t know. He started this awful fight with me, and I can’t even begin to tell you how it unraveled. But Jake and Aiden walked in on it—“

“Oh man, do you want me to talk to Sonny? Smooth things over?” Lucky shoved his hands in his pocket. “We’re on good terms—“

“No.” Elizabeth blinked, bewildered by the offer. “No, I can handle Sonny. It’s what Jake and Aiden overheard. Sonny was telling Jake about…things that happened before he was born. The…” She hesitated. “What happened—“

“The lies,” Lucky said, and Elizabeth stopped again, pressing her lips together. “So Jake knows you lied to Jason and me about who his father was. What’s the big deal?”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it. “Jake—he was upset. Angry with me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you never thought about it coming out, but I guess it was a matter of time.” Lucky slid his hand in his pocket, retrieved his phone. “So if you don’t want me to mediate with Sonny, what is it? Do you want me to talk to Jake or something?”

“No, I’m trying to explain to you that Aiden and Jake had so many questions. That they were trying to figure out the timeline, and of course, they know you and I were married, so that complicated things, and Jake got so upset, he stormed out and Jason went after him.” Elizabeth rubbed her chest. “Jason was trying to explain things to him, and he told Jake the reason I lied. About you—“

Lucky’s expression shifted from unconcerned to dread. He tensed. “About me? Shit. He told Jake about  the pills?”

“He didn’t get into the details, no. But I think he was just concerned with making sure Jake wasn’t blaming me—“ She broke off when Lucky snorted. “What?”

“No, why would Jason blame you? You only started the lie,” he bit out. “And made it everyone else’s fault. And Jason’s still carrying water for you. You guys like making it all my fault, don’t you—“

Elizabeth bit back the nasty words that nearly spilled out of her throat, forced herself to take a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant. I think Jason just wanted Jake to understand where my head was at back then, just to get Jake to calm down. We didn’t tell Aiden anything—“

“Good. Keep it that way. None of that is any of your business, and it’s ancient history. Aiden doesn’t need to have any of it dragged up. So great, consider me warned.” Lucky reached for the door.

“You know better, Lucky. The truth always come out.”

Lucky turned back to her, those blue eyes filled with familiar disdain. “The truth? What truth are we  talking about, Elizabeth? You lied to me for more than a year about the paternity of my son. You made me fall in love with him, and I mourned him when we thought he was dead. I brought him home to you—“

“I lied to you. I lied to Jason, and I hurt you both. That’s not news, Lucky. And you get to hold a grudge about it. But let’s not forget what you were doing that same year,” Elizabeth retorted. “Sleeping with a barely legal teenager, having her procure drugs for you, refusing to go to rehab until you thought you were having a biological son—I’m not an angel, Lucky, but you were hardly a blameless victim. So cut the crap. I don’t like the situation we’re in, but we’re in it. And you know better than anyone what happens when a boy has questions about his father.”

Lucky went still, his face losing color. “Are you comparing my drug addiction to what my father did to my mother? Have you lost your mind—“

“Oh, why do you always do this?” Elizabeth exploded. “You always make me out to be the absolute villain, when you know damn well I just meant that Aiden has questions now, and there are plenty of people in this town who don’t like you and remember what those days. He just has to tug at a string or two, and it unravels. Your affair with Sam was in our divorce papers, Lucky.”

“So was yours with Jason,” Lucky muttered, but he looked away. He dragged a hand down his face. “I hate this. You had no right—“

“I didn’t do anything, and you don’t get to be angry at Jason about how he handled this. You tried to set him up with a drug bust to make yourself feel better. He was trying to help his son understand a horrible, awful thing that his mother did, and I won’t apologize for Jason telling Jake the truth. You were a worthless, abusive drug addict who made me feel responsible for your sobriety and terrified what you would do if the truth came out. So if you want to blame anyone, look in the damned mirror, Lucky. You chose to take the drugs and sleep with Maxie in our bed. Now you have to lie in the mess you made.”

Molly trudged up the front walk of her mother’s house, tugging at the cuffs of her blazer, her eyes gritty from too many hours of reading paperwork that barely registered. Every day since Sam’s death, every day since the loss of Irene felt like a battle that refused to end.

A battle that Molly never quite manage to win.

She pushed open the door to her mother’s house, frowning when the living room was empty. She’d promised to come over tonight for dinner, so that she was sitting alone in her apartment while TJ put in another overnight shift.

Molly set her briefcase down by the door, hung up her jacket and nearly called out for her mother—but then she heard the stirring of voices. The kitchen, she realized, and started across the living room.

The voices were blurred, indistinct but became easier to understand as she grew closer. But she slowed her steps as the words themselves sank in.

“I know you’re making the right choice, Mom. Drew and Jason haven’t been the kind of fathers that Danny and Scout deserve,” Kristina said, that smug tone that made Molly see red every time she heard it. “And they’ll back down. They’ll have to.”

Molly crept closer to the kitchen door, hesitating to make herself known. She knew her mother was going for custody. She didn’t like it, but it was grief speaking. A desperate way to hold on to Sam, and Molly could understand that. It wouldn’t go anywhere, she thought. Danny was old enough to what he wanted, and the court would listen. And Drew was a Congressman! No court would ever take the kids away.

But there was something in Kristina’s voice that twisted at her, that dug deep in her belly. That brought that terrible rush of anger and grief of the day Molly had found those custody papers in her mother’s things. The realization that Kristina had planned to take Irene away from her, that she’d wanted to take Irene from TJ, too—

Molly touched her fingertips to the door, her breathing coming just a little faster. Alexis was talking now, responding to Kristina.

“I just hate the idea of dragging the kids into court. They’ve been through so much.”

“That’s the leverage, Mom. Drew and Jason won’t want to do that, and this is how we keep them together! It’s what Sam would have wanted—“

Molly pushed the door open and her mother and sister jolted, turning away from the counter with wide eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” she asked softly.

“Molly, I—“

“Forgot I was coming,” Molly said, and Alexis flushed, looked away. “That’s clear. You were too busy plotting to steal another man’s child. Again.” She looked at her sister, at Kristina’s arrogant lifted chin and cold eyes. “You’re making this a habit, aren’t you? Stealing your sister’s children?”

“You can’t steal what already belongs to you,” Kristina said. “Adela was my daughter—“

Alexis winced. “Kristina—“

“No.” Molly held up a hand. “No,” she repeated quietly. She fisted the hand, then let it fall to her side. “No. You won’t do this. I won’t let it happen.”

“Molly, wait—“ Alexis started forward.

But Molly was already gone.

Jason pushed open the door to his room above Bobbie’s feeling impossibly tired and worn, though it was barely four in the afternoon. He’d spent the majority of the day clashing with his son, with Sonny, and then that horrible conversation with Elizabeth where he’d admitted something he’d only suspected somewhere deep down.

For two long years, separated from his family who believed him dead, there had been a kind of peace. A terrible relief that he could just focus on the here and now and not think about anything else. Not about who he was hurting or the mistakes or the regrets. He’d hated those years, had missed his family and his home with an ache—

And yet—there had been those days. Those moments when he’d breathed with a sense of ease because it was clear to him. He had a mission, and he would achieve it. A certainty of purpose that he’d lost a long time ago. He’d had it after the accident, but lost it somewhere a long the way, in the guilt and obligations—

Jason looked at himself in the mirror over the sink, noting the changes in his appearance. His hair was grayer, lines in his skin from too much time in the sun and too little care for sunscreen. A permanent pinched expression around his mouth. He wasn’t the impulsive, angry kid he’d been after the accident that had reset his entire world. He wasn’t the sorrowful, weary victim who’d been lockedi inside a coma for a five years—

He didn’t know who he was anymore, and maybe that was what Elizabeth had seen that first day they’d seen each other again.

You look different.

He was different. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take something away from those two years, something valuable.

A certainty of purpose. A conviction that he was doing what was right for him. So what did he want for himself? What did he want the rest of his life to look like?

A knock at his door drew his attention, and Jason left the bathroom, went to the door. He frowned when he pulled it open and found Molly Lansing-Davis on the other side. “Molly—“

“My mother wants to take your son away from you.” Molly took a deep breath. “You can’t use Diane for your custody. She’s in practice with my mother, and she’ll conflict out. So let me represent you.” Her bravado faded for just a moment. “I mean, if you’re planning to fight. I don’t know what you want. But you should get to do what you want. My mother and Kristina shouldn’t get to say what happens.”

He was a little confused by the inclusion of Kristina in that statement, but the rest of it was more important. What did he want?

“Come on in,” Jason said, stepping back. “Let’s talk about a retainer. Because, yeah, I’m planning to fight.”