Written in  61  minutes. I do not reread for typos, and they always drive me crazy later. I suck, lol.

This scene might be useful. This story picks up on this day. Song is Cry Me A River (Justin Timberlake)

September 2, 2003

General Hospital: Chapel

Less than three months earlier, Jason had broken into the house where Elizabeth lived with Ric, looking for clues to locate Carly. Elizabeth had caught him and pulled out a gun. The anger and animosity had lingered between them for months before that night and had continued even after Ric’s crimes had been revealed.

But it all felt so far away tonight, as if they had happened to other people, in another lifetime.

All Jason knew now was that Emily, the one person they both loved more than themselves, was fading away—and that knowing Elizabeth was in pain still hurt as much as it did the first time he’d made her cry, that long ago day standing outside of Kelly’s, when he’d told her they couldn’t see each other again.

“Why is this happening?” she’d said, her voice broken, her shoulders shaking. A question without an answer, of course, but Jason couldn’t leave it there. He slid just a little closer, put his arm around her shoulders, and Elizabeth leaned into his embrace, crying against his shoulder, her tears damp against the black cotton.

He didn’t know how long they’d sat that there, the candles on the altar slowly burning themselves down to their tapers, his hand on her bare shoulder, his thumb circling her soft skin, the smell of her shampoo and the tickle of her hair against his jaw.

How had he gone nearly a year without touching her, without the feel of her body against his? It was a thought that slid in and out of his consciousness so quickly that Jason barely registered, but he was familiar with it — the longing to be near her, to touch her, to breathe her in — he’d put it away in a box, and locked it away for good, this time.

But it hadn’t been for good, Jason thought, but only because the option hadn’t been available. If he’d touched her once in the last ten months, it all would have come flooding back—

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth sat up, and Jason knew he should pull his arm back, but he left it still loosely around her shoulders, his thumb still brushing the top of her shoulder. He was like an addict getting his first taste of alcohol after a long period of sobriety, and he didn’t like it. But he didn’t know how to stop it either.

Elizabeth brushed at her tears and looked at him, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, she’s your family.”

“She’s yours, too,” Jason told her. And he’d meant that. Elizabeth had risked her life over and over again for Emily, had always been right there every time his sister had needed her. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I just—I know that I’m going to get that call.” She stared down at her hands. “I’m going to find out she’s gone, and I don’t—how can you stand it—how can you know this awful thing is going to happen and just sit—” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I can’t stop thinking, and I want it to go away. I want it to stop.”

“I can—” He swallowed hard when she looked at him, the tears clinging to her lashes, her blue eyes shattered. “I can help. I think.” He finally moved his arm, then stood and held out his hand. “Will you come with me?”

—

Elizabeth placed her hand in his Jason, and let him pull her to her feet. She stumbled slightly, the heel of her shoe catching the edge of the chapel carpet. Jason’s hand went to steady her, resting at the small of her back and she bit her lip, wishing she could just fold himself into his arms, absorb all the warmth he was radiating. She’d be safe there—

But she’d walked away from that a long time ago and this night — this night wasn’t part of that. It existed outside of time and space. Tomorrow, when the world came back and daylight broke, Emily would be gone and she and Jason wouldn’t have a reason to ever speak again.

It was an unbearably sad realization, so if Jason wanted to take her somewhere, to stretch out the time that was left to all of them — then she wouldn’t stop herself.

Jason led her out of the chapel, down the short hallway to the elevators. He jabbed the button, and they stepped into the car. Neither of them saw the blonde standing a few feet away, lurking in a door way, her mouth pinched and her blue eyes narrowed.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow when Jason hit the button for the parking garage level, and looked at him quizzically. “Where—” Her breath caught. The parking garage. Oh. Oh, she knew exactly where he was taking her.

It was same motorcycle he’d driven out of town four years ago, after he’d sat on a park bench and broken her heart with a kiss to the forehead, trying to say goodbye to her. Maybe they both would have been better off if she’d let him say it. But she’d insisted it was always see you later.

Jason handed the helmet, and Elizabeth took it, holding it against her middle, biting her lip, looking at the bike.

“We don’t have—”

“No, I was just thinking about my dress,” Elizabeth said, “but I can do it. I can—” She’d do anything if meant Jason would take her for a ride, if she could climb on the bike behind him, and get to hold on to him, just one more time. They’d never managed a ride since he’d returned the year before.

It was fitting, she thought. It would all end the way it had begun.

Jason unset the kickstand holding the bike upright, then straddled it. Elizabeth fastened the helmet, swung one leg over the bike and sat down, tucking the dress around her legs, then slid she slid forward, nestling her body just behind Jason’s, sliding her arms around his waist, holding tight the way she’d never dared to in the beginning. Then Jason turned the key in the ignition, the bike roared to life, and they were off.

Vista Point: Parking Lot

Elizabeth stumbled off the bike, tugging the helmet from her hair, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh my God! I forgot how loud it was! And you still take those turns like a mad man—the last one, I thought for sure were going to crash—” The road had seemed so close her heart had stopped for just a beat, then he’d pulled out of it, the bike was upright, and the world was normal again.

“And I think you might have busted an eardrum—” Jason rubbed his ear, and Elizabeth laughed, slapped him playfully. Then her smile faded, and she looked away, tears stinging her eyes.

“I forgot,” she said softly. “For just a minute. I forgot.” She cleared her throat. Looked back. “Did—did they call?”

Jason removed his phone from his pocket. “No. Monica said—” His mouth was tight. “She said she’d call. Or have someone—” His hand tightened around the phone. “We could keep going,” he said, almost to himself.

“Eventually we’d have to stop,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “And the phone would always be there, waiting.” She rubbed her arms, looked around at their surroundings. The night was a cloudy one — the stars barely visible. “I haven’t been up here in months.” Not since she’d come here with Lucky and run into Jason and Courtney.

Her stomach lurched, and she dropped her eyes to the gravel beneath her feet. Courtney. Jason’s fiancee. The woman who was probably waiting on him to come home.

“Me, either,” Jason said. He tipped his head towards the observatory deck. “Come on. Let’s see if we can see Spoon Island.”

If he didn’t want to think about who was waiting for him, then why should she? Elizabeth pushed it aside, followed him.

“Sometimes I wish I were Dorothy,” Elizabeth murmured, leaning over the guardrail, trying to see the pitched roof of Wyndemere in the clouds. “You know? From the Wizard of Oz?”

“Robin made me watch it once. She was the one with the shoes, right? She wanted to go home?”

“Yeah. She thought she had to go on a quest, but the answer was right in front of her the whole time. She just had to click her heels three times and say there was no place like home.”

“Why do you wish you were here? You can go home. I could take you there—you’re—you’re in the studio, right?”

“It’s not home. There’s no where that’s home,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe not home. Maybe go back in time to when Emily came back. I could tell something wasn’t right, but I was so wrapped up in my own horror show—I could have forced her to tell me what was wrong. And if she didn’t listen to me, I’d—” She looked at him. “I’d have told you, and we’d have made her see sense.”

She folded her arms tightly, looked back out over the water. “But there’s no going back. No correcting mistakes. Just learning to live with them. You’d think I’d know that by now and make better choices.”

“I wish I’d spent more time with her,” Jason said, his voice low, a bit rough. “You weren’t the only one distracted. And if she hadn’t listened to me, I’d have gone to you.” He straightened, one hand curled around the guardrail. “I could take you home—”

“So I could sleep? Go to bed and wake up in a world without Emily? No thanks. But if you need to go—” Elizabeth chanced a look at him, but didn’t speak the name. “You can drop me off—”

“So you can sit up all night?” Jason asked gently. “Wait for the phone to ring?”

“Like you’re going to do any differently?”

“No, I guess not. Well, if we’re both going to wait for a phone call, then—” Jason stepped towards the parking lot. “I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Me either.” She took his hand again, and they returned to the bike. He handed her the helmet. “Could you maybe, um, take more of the turns like that last one? Or is that too danger?”

“Let me see what I can do.”

Jake’s: Bar

Jason twisted the key in the lock, then stepped inside, waiting for Elizabeth to follow. “It just closed a little while ago, but I have the same, uh, arrangement with Coleman that I had with Jake.”

“I miss her, you know.” Elizabeth wandered over to the juke box, flipped through the choices. “Why she’d have to sell the place?”

“It’s not the same as it used to be, but…” Jason went around the bar, looked through the cooler. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Hmm, yeah. Whatever you’re having,” she said absently. “You know, I haven’t been here since you left two years ago.” The opening chords of a song he didn’t know (not that he knew many) filled the empty space.

“No?” Jason came over to her, handed her a green glass bottle already uncapped. He had an identical one in his hand.

You were my sun

“No reason to. Club 101 was closer, and then I didn’t really have a lot of reasons to go out and drink or have any fun.” Her eyes flitted to him as she sipped the beer, her lips wrapping around the stem of the bottle. “You come here, though, right? Enough to have an arragement?”

You were my earth

“Sometimes I—” He grimaced. “Sometimes I need to pick a fight,” he muttered, and took long pull, nearly a quarter of the bottle.

But you didn’t know all the ways I loved you, no

“Hmmm, I know what you mean.” Elizabeth wandered over to the pool table, running her fingertips over the felt top. “I definitely feel like punching things these days.” She glanced at him. “You want to play a round?”

He remembered the last time they’d played pool — the night he’d gone out and Sonny had faked his death. He’d spent time with her, hoping she’d understand the lie he was about to tell her. The horrible thing he was doing. But it had gone so wrong. It had lasted too long, and she’d been so damn hurt—

So you took a chance

“Yeah,” Jason said. He took another drink, then set the bottle on a nearby table. He went to the wall, took down two cues, handing her one. Then he set the balls up to break. “You can go first—”

And made other plans

“Taking pity? How do you know I haven’t practiced?” Elizabeth asked. She took a drink before setting her own bottle to the side, then leaned down to line up a shot. Her form was still terrible, Jason thought idly, but she did well enough, scattering the balls across the table. Not a single one went in, and she pouted, pushing out her bottom lip.

“Your turn.”

But I bet you didn’t think that they would come crashing down, no

“I need something stronger,” he said, suddenly, setting down the cue without even taking a shot. He headed over to the back of the bar, snagged a bottle of tequila, and two sets of shot glasses. He could call someone to drive them home.

You don’t have to say, what you did

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink hard liquor,” Elizabeth said, her brows pulled together. He set one of the shot glasses in front of her.

I already know, I found out from him

He didn’t, but she’d done that thing with her mouth around the bottle, and pouting—he was only human, and maybe if he got drunk, he wouldn’t see all of that. He poured the tequila. “You don’t have to join me.”

“No—” Elizabeth set the cue down, picked up the shot glass. “No point in letting you get plastered alone. On three—one, two, three—” They both emptied their glasses.

Now there’s just no chance

They continued the round, Jason doing his best to throw the game so Elizabeth wasn’t just watching him run the table. She’d improved — but not enough to compete against him. And after they each took a turn, they drank another shot.

For you and me

Elizabeth was wobbling slightly, trying to line up a difficult shot, when she suddenly straightened and scowled, coming around to his side of the table — right in front of him. “It’s a better angle over here,” she said, leaning over, wiggling to line it up.

There’ll never be

She was right, of course, Jason thought, and the right thing to do would be to move and give her room. To not be standing directly behind her while she wiggled her butt in a dress that kept slipping and sliding across her body as she moved her cue.

And don’t it make you sad about it?

She took the shot, and missed of course. She straightened, her fist around the pool cue, sliding down from the top the middle, and Jason nearly passed out. He must have made some sort of sound.

“What?” Elizabeth turned, her eyes lit with humor. “Was my shot that bad? Come on. I’m trying—”

“To kill me,” he muttered. He dragged a hand down his face. “This was a bad idea.”

You told me you love me

Her smile faded, and she looked away, biting her lip, and he felt like a heel. She had no idea that he’d started to lose his mind the second he’d touched her in the chapel, and that his self-control had been slipping away all night, eroded every time she bit her lip or wrapped her hand around something, or he just looked at her.

Why did you leave me all alone?

The tequila had been a mistake, Jason thought. Instead of dulling his senses, all it had done was heighten him and now everything she did drove him crazy. What the hell was wrong with him? Had the whole world gone crazy?

“I should call a cab,” Elizabeth said, when he said nothing, just stared at her. She set the cue on the table, started for the door. Walking away. Just like she had a year ago.

Maybe he was Dorothy, he thought stupidly. Maybe they’d gone back in time and she was walking and he had a second chance to stop her.

Now you tell me you need me

Jason charged after her, snagged her elbow, and tugged her back, swinging her back around, her body brushing his. “Don’t go.”

When you call me on the phone

“Jason—” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and luminous. “We should—”

Girl, I refuse

He didn’t want to hear about what they should do. He was tired of doing what he was supposed to do. The expected thing. The right thing. What was good for everything else. What did he have to show for it?

You must have me confused with some other guy

“Don’t go,” he repeated, brushing his thumb over her lip. Her tongue darted out, licked him, and that was it. The last straw. His hands dove into her hair and he kissed her, hard, hot and hungrily, the way he should have a thousand times before.

The bridges were burned

Her hands fluttered around him for a moment, and then she broke, fisting them in his black cotton t-shirt, pressing herself against him. Jason’s hands slid down her to her hips, and with a quick lift, her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was stumbling towards the stairs.

Now it’s your turn, to cry
Cry me a river

+57

Written in 62 minutes.

Jake’s: Upstairs Hall

Before Jake had sold the bar, she’d rented the rooms above to any one who passed her own personal background check. But with Coleman’s purchase of the property, he hadn’t wanted the headache of being a landlord, so they’d gone unused.

Which was good because any tenants would have definitely been disturbed by the time Jason   managed to get up the stairs to the second floor, distracted when Elizabeth’s busy hands had found the button on his jeans, popping it open, and sliding her fingers down.

He stumbled, resting one hand flat against the wall, and the other firmly underneath her bottom, trying to keep them both upright. Jason let her legs fall to the floor, then reached for her hands, pinning them above her head. Elizabeth tossed her hair back, looked at him with a smoky, sultry gaze that he’d only glimpsed once before— that night in her studio over a year ago.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, their chests brushing against other, breathing heavy — if ever there would be a moment for them to turn back, to stop this, for common sense and reality to wash over them — this would be it. Before the point of no return.

Elizabeth’s tongue swept over her bottom lip. “I’m going to need those back eventually,” she murmured.

“Maybe,” he murmured against her mouth, then kissed her again, swallowing the smirk that was already spreading across her beautiful face. “But maybe you should behave yourself when stairs are involved.”

“Do you want me to behave myself?” she panted, when his mouth cruised a trail down her jawline to her neck, nipping at the soft skin behind her ear, his hands gliding up and underneath her dress, cupping her bottom. She arched her neck, wrapping a leg around his waist.

He didn’t answer her, couldn’t have formed a coherent word when their eyes met again, and he saw everything he felt reflected back.

“Tell me you have a key,” Elizabeth said, tugging his shirt up and sliding her hands up the planes of his back, her nails lightly scratching.

“If they didn’t change the locks—” Jason shoved a hand in his pocket, found his eyes, and with shaking fingers, found the old key for the room he always stayed in, then wrapped his other hand around her wrist, afraid that if either of them were separated for too long, they’d remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea.

But right now, impulse and lust and desire were in control, and everything else was taking a very distant back seat. Elizabeth must have felt the same way, because she shimmied in front of him as he tried to unlock the door, kissing his neck, collarbone, jawline, any skin she could reach.

The locks hadn’t been changed, and Jason had one moment to be grateful Coleman was a lazy son of a bitch. Then the door opened and they almost fell through. Jason gripped Elizabeth around the waist, lifted her clear of the door, then threw it closed, throwing the deadbolt across.

She dragged the shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere before attacking his jeans again, this time tugging the zipper down—before he could even take a full breath, she’d stripped him of most of his clothes, and was shoving him towards the bed. He fumbled for the zipper of her dress, locating it under her arm, dragging it down so that the bodice gaped.

“Your boots—” Elizabeth pushed him down on the bed into a sitting position, then knelt at his feet with a wicked smile. She made quick work of unlacing his boots, tossing them side, before dragging the jeans all the way down his legs, and they went flying. “I could just…stay down here,” she said with an arch of her brow, her hands on both of his thighs, sliding up towards the edge of his black briefs.

He’d never survive that, Jason thought, leaning forward, to capture her mouth, then drag her over him. Enough playing around, enough teasing, enough waiting. He’d waited too long to be here, to touch her, to feel every inch, and he wasn’t going to wait another damn minute—

Jason swiftly rolled them so that she was underneath him, then dragged the bodice of her dress until it was at her waist. She shimmied and wiggled, which he thought was another one of her teasing tricks, but then a piece of fabric went flying, and her hands at her briefs again.

“I need you now,” she panted against his neck. “Now, please—” She gasped when he slid inside, her legs wrapping around his waist, her nails digging into his back. It was hard and fast, and nothing like what he might have wanted for their first time—but Elizabeth was already breaking apart, her neck arching, and then everything exploded until there was nothing left but them, clinging to each other and the wreckage of the lives they’d just burned to the ground.

—

It should have been awkward, Elizabeth thought, a bit lazily, some time later. She wasn’t sure exactly how long. After that first, hurried, insane round, Jason had dragged them both up towards the headboard, though she’d been no help in that, her bones mostly limp. He’d started kissing her again, and then—then they made love. Long, sweet, reverent, looking at each other — maybe that first time could be a mistake — but not the second, she thought.

She lay across his chest, listening to the soft rainfall outside, the plink of the drops as they hit the roof, dripped down the window. The clock on the night stand had red digital letters informing her that it was crawling towards five in the morning. Dawn wasn’t far away now.

Jason had risen after that second time, gone to find his phone and checked it. Nothing from the hospital, he’d said. If there were other messages he was ignoring, he didn’t say, and she wouldn’t ask. All of that was outside of this moment somehow, and they were inside their little bubble, just like always.

Jason set the phone on the nightstand, climbed back in bed, then they made love for a third time. She’d slid into a dreamless sleep — perhaps because she was already in one. What was left to dream about?  She didn’t know if Jason had slept. She hoped so — he looked so tired, and worn out at the hospital.

His fingers trailed up and down her spine, tracing patterns with his fingertips. She lay draped across his chest, one of her legs hooked over his, the thin blanket pulled over them both.

“Tell me about somewhere you went when you weren’t in Port Charles,” Elizabeth said. She looked up, resting her chin on his chest.

Jason furrowed his brow for a long moment. “Egypt,” he said finally. “I wanted to see the pyramids. I went to Cairo, saw Giza. You see pictures and you can read measurements. But none of that does them justice.”

“They’re older than most written history,” Elizabeth murmured. She laid her head back down, closed her eyes. “It puts it into perspective, sometimes. How small and insignificant our lives are. The world was here long before us, and will still be here when we’re bones and dust.”

His phone rang then, and they both looked at it. Elizabeth sat up, flattening one of her hands against the mattress, the blanket falling to her waist. Was it the hospital—

Or was it someone else? She bit her lip, forced the possibility away. That wasn’t part of this. It couldn’t be. After this night, they’d go back to their own lives, maybe never having a reason to talk again.

But until then, Jason was hers and she wasn’t going to let go until she had to.

Jason reluctantly reached for the cell, looked at the screen and his body tensed. “It’s Monica,” he said. He sat up, dragged a hand down his face. Elizabeth leaned her face against his shoulder. It was the call they’d both dreaded. Jason waited just one more moment, then flipped it open.  “Hey. No, I’m still awake—” He tensed, then looked at her, his eyes bright. “What? What? When? How—” His voice shook. “No. I’ll—I’ll tell her. Yeah. Yeah, no, tell her it—” Jason took a deep breath. “Tell her I love her.”

“Jason?” Elizabeth prompted when he closed the phone, closed his fist around it. “What—what happened? Tell—”

“She—the infection—her fever broke.” Jason looked at her again, and there were tears in his eyes. “The doctors—she made it.”

“She—” Elizabeth clutched her hands against her mouth. “Oh! Oh! She’s alive? She made it? She’s going to be okay?”

“I don’t—Monica didn’t have a lot of—” He cleared his throat. “They don’t know if she’s fully in the clear, but this is a good sign. Her body is starting to fight back. But she—she’s alive. She made it through the night.”

Elizabeth had never let herself hope for such a miracle. She started to laugh, even as tears streamed down her cheeks. Jason reached for her, and she could feel the joy in his, the smile in his kiss.

Jason lowered her to the bed, his kiss turning searching and hungry. This was it, she thought, the last time. After this—they’d open the door and go back to reality. But until then, she’d hold on tight and savor every moment so she’d always remember this night and this man.

—

After all this time, they still somehow understood each other with few words. After making love for a fourth time, they left the bed. They silent dressed, donning the clothes they’d ripped from each other only hours before.  Jason stripped the sheets and other linen, and went to change them, knowing where Jake had kept such things.

Then they went down stairs, Jason pausing to relock the door. In the bar, Elizabeth tidied up the pool table, while Jason disposed of the bottles and took the glasses to clean them. He left cash on the bar, and they headed for the door.

The sun was just breaking over Port Charles when they left Jake’s. The morning held a slight chill, and Elizabeth shivered. Still — they said nothing. He handed her the helmet, and she climbed on the bike, holding him close.

At the studio, he walked her upstairs, and then finally when they reached her doorway, and she’d pulled out her keys, she looked at him. “So I guess…I guess this is…” Then her words failed her and she looked down at the silver keys. “Do we talk about it?” she asked, her voice hushed.

Jason swallowed hard. “I—”

“I mean, do we—do we go back to—” She glanced at him, and she bit her lip. “Do we go back to how it was, like this didn’t…”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked over her head, at the door he’d put on the studio a year earlier to make her safer. Did they pretend this happen? Just an insane night outside of all the others—did they go back to their lives?

Elizabeth picking up the pieces after her disastrous marriage, and Jason to…return home to another woman. To marry her and create a life with her.

That would be easiest, Jason thought. Simplest. Agree that this was one-time thing and never talk about it again. But could he do it? Could he pack all the things he’d felt before, and all the new feelings — could he put them into a box like he usually did and lock them away?

“I don’t think I can,” Jason finally admitted, and she looked at him, surprised, her eyes widening. “Can you?”

“N-no. No, but—”

He kissed her again, backing her against the door, and her arms slid around his neck, the keys in her hand, falling to the ground with a clink of metal against concrete. They broke apart, one of her hands sliding down to rest against his chest, their eyes meeting.

“So what now?” Elizabeth asked, her lips swollen, rosy, still damp from his mouth. He pressed his thumb against her lip, sweeping across. “I mean—you’re…you’re—” Her voice faltered.

“Engaged,” he finished. “I know. I’ll—I think of something to tell her. To end it.” Though now that reality was filtering back in, he remembered all the reasons why it wouldn’t just be a simple conversation. “But I will.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth smiled tremulously. “If you’re sure. I—I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do—”

“I want to,” Jason said. He kissed her again, lingering, before stepping back. “I’ll call you,” he said. “As soon as I can.” He handed her the keys she’d dropped, then waited until she was safely inside.

All he had to do was go home and tell his fiancee, who had recently suffered a miscarriage and learned that she couldn’t have any more children, that he didn’t want to marry her anymore.

What could go wrong?

+51

Written in 58 minutes.

Harborview Towers: Parking Garage

The reality of what he’d done didn’t really hit Jason until he’d driven the bike into his normal spot at the Towers, switched off the ignition, and climbed off. Then he looked towards the elevators and realized he had to go upstairs.

Upstairs where Courtney was waiting. The woman he’d asked to marry him less than four months earlier. If not for Carly’s kidnapping and the chaos that had ensued in its wake, he and Courtney would already be married.

And he’d spent the night in bed with another woman. With Elizabeth. Not just once, or twice. Not just three times.

Jason stood there for another moment because he just couldn’t get on the elevator. He’d told Elizabeth that he’d leave Courtney. He’d meant it. Standing in front of her door — in front of the door he had installed because men had broken in a year ago and kidnapped her. Because she was Elizabeth, and he’d been in love with her for years.  He’d put it away, Jason thought, but last night—last night, he’d thrown away a year of progress. A year of finally moving on, of putting her behind him after all they’d been through.

He stared down at the keys in his hand, hearing the echo of Elizabeth’s keys in his head. They’d dropped from her hand when he’d kissed her that last time — the promise they’d come back and they could finally be together. It had seemed so simple, so straightforward.

But now Jason had to face the woman he’d asked to spend the rest of her life with him, the woman who had stood by him through murder trials and kidnappings and crazed half-brothers bent on revenge. She’d done nothing to deserve any of this. In fact, he knew she was hurting, that the loss of the baby he’d never known existed or the loss of any possible future children weighed heavily.

He dragged a hand across his mouth. He’d cheated on her. He’d slept with someone else after making those promises, and Courtney couldn’t understand that it hadn’t felt wrong when he’d done it. That somehow it didn’t even feel wrong now. How was he supposed to start that conversation? My sister’s going to live. I slept with Elizabeth. Over and over again. I could have stopped, but I chose not to. And I can’t regret it. I wouldn’t change it.

He wasn’t going to solve the problem by standing here, Jason thought, and finally he could move forward. He jabbed the button to get on the elevator and hoped like hell by the time he was upstairs, he would have the words he needed.

But they remained elusive, and Jason still had nothing when he slid the key in the lock, pushed it open, and found Courtney waiting for him.

She’d slept downstairs, he realized, seeing her sit up, toss aside a blanket. She rose to her feet, clad in the red and gray sweats he’d last seen her in the night before. Had she waited for him all night? She hadn’t called, but—

“You’re home,” Courtney said. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders, and there was a red line from the crease of the pillow she’d rested her cheek on. She rubbed it. “I—I fell asleep, I guess.”

“I should have called,” Jason said, and there—a fact that wasn’t painful to say. He absolutely should have called, but the moment Elizabeth had sat next to him in the chapel everything else had ceased to exist.  He carefully set the keys on the table, kept his distance. Would his shirt smell like Jake’s? Did it—would she able to tell somehow that he’d been with someone else? And why would that matter if he was going to tell her? He’d come up home to end it, hadn’t he?

But now, staring at Courtney, at the woman he cared—loved, he corrected quickly. He loved her. He’d told her that, hadn’t he? Assured her over and over again that he didn’t love Elizabeth. It was a hell of a thing, Jason thought as he looked at Courtney, at his fiancee, to realize that he’d been lying with every word he’d spoken. To her and to himself.

“I—Monica called here. A little while ago. She gave me the good news, but I told her to call your cell because you weren’t home.” Courtney’s blue eyes studied him, remaining somewhat unreadable. Careful, maybe, might be a better description of the emotion he could sense. “I didn’t call you.”

“I—” Had realized that fact when he’d looked at his phone in the parking garage. He hadn’t consciously thought about not hearing from Courtney — only that there’d been no interruptions and being grateful. How many times had he been with Elizabeth, only to let himself be dragged away by something else?  “I know.”

“I think I was afraid what would happen,” Courtney said. The corner of her lips curled up, almost in a smile, but her eyes remained sober. Cautious. “If you’d ignore the call, send it to voicemail, or if you’d pick up and I’d hear her.”

Everything inside him stilled, and he realized that he absolutely did not want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to hurt Courtney by telling her he’d been with Elizabeth, and he didn’t want Elizabeth to deal with those consequences either. Jason swallowed hard. “Her,” he repeated, thinking maybe he was imagining this. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe he could somehow avoid all of this. Because he’d done this before, hadn’t he? He’d had to tell Robin about Carly, and the pain in her voice, the hurt in her eyes — he’d never forgotten and he’d tried so hard to be a better man.

But here he was and it was worse, oh, so much worse. Because he’d made promises to Courtney, and he’d broken them.

And he wasn’t sorry. Sorry to have hurt her, but not sorry to have done it.

“I saw you last night.” Courtney folded her arms. “After—after everything. I saw you go into the chapel. I was going to come and sit with you, but then—then she came in, and I saw you.  I saw you leave with her.” Her eyes were on his, and they never changed. No hurt, no anger. Just truth. “And then you never came home. And you never called.”

He exhaled slowly. “Courtney—”

“It’s good news about Emily,” she cut in, and he stopped. Furrowed his brow. “I know you weren’t expecting that. I know it was basically—that it was a matter of time. I know that, Jason. And I know how much you love her. What she means to you. And I know it’s the same for…Elizabeth,” she said, finally speaking the name. “I know that. I’m—I can understand if, facing that horrible thought of losing her, you and Elizabeth—” Her voice trembled slightly. “If you found comfort in each other.”

Had it started that way? Jason thought. Yes. In the chapel. At Vista Point. But something had changed when they’d gone to Jake’s. They’d stepped out of time, somehow, and none of it had felt real. Except when he’d touched her, when he’d held her. But all of that sounded terrible, and Jason didn’t have the first clue what to do next. He hadn’t known Courtney had seen them, hadn’t realized she’d been waiting up for this conversation.

She’d all that time to prepare, and he hadn’t given her a single thought until he’d arrived in the parking garage. She’d been something standing between him and Elizabeth — an obstacle he had to clear. Not a real person who meant something to him.

“Courtney—”

“I can understand that,” Courtney repeated. She forced herself to smile. “But you came home, and—and you look so tired. You should go…you should get some sleep. It’s still early, and Sonny won’t be up for hours. He was up late, too,” she added. “They had another fight.”

Jason grimaced — all Sonny and Carly had done since her return from Venezuela was fight. They’d fought over her health, Lorenzo Alcazar, Ric Lansing’s continued survival, Michael, the new baby, the color of the carpet—anything could and would trigger a scene. “Right. I—”

Sleep sounded good, he decided. A shower and some real rest. When he woke up, he’d figure it out. He’d know what to do. He’d have the words he’d need to make this all come out right.

“I’ll do that,” he said, making his way to the stairs, careful to keep his distance from her.

Upstairs, in the master bathroom, Jason removed his clothes, tossing them into the hamper by the door. He switched on the spray—and then out of the corner of his eye, caught himself in the reflection of the mirror that hung over the bathroom sink. On his shoulder blades, there were scratches. Fingernails, he thought, and then he had one of his rare memory flashes, of Elizabeth beneath him, her neck arched back, the digging of her nails as he—

Jason shoved his head beneath the spray of the shower, twisting the knob to the right. He needed a cold shower if he was going to get through this.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

It was just unfortunate timing, Elizabeth thought, for her first day back at Kelly’s to be the lunch shift that Mike always worked.

Mike Corbin, Courtney’s father.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Mike’s kind blue eyes twinkled when she approached the counter. “I heard the good news about Emily. Ain’t that something? Always been a fighter that one.”

“It’s definitely amazing.” Elizabeth followed him into the kitchen, stowed her purse in one of the employee lockers. “Thanks again, Mike, for, you know, just taking me back like this. I—” Hadn’t had a lot of options after she’d left the hospital, moved back into her studio. Her savings were basically gone, and the last thing she wanted to do was throw herself on her grandmother’s mercy.

Gram, who still didn’t quite understand why the marriage to Ric Lansing had fallen apart. How did Elizabeth explain the panic room to her when Ric was now working for Scott Baldwin at the DA’s office? Gram wouldn’t be able to wrap her head around it, and maybe it was just easier if they all pretended it never happened.

“You’ll always have a place here.” Mike squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Plus, school’s starting, so one of our summer girls headed back to classes. I’m just glad you’re away from that scumbag.”

“Me, too.” Elizabeth tied on her apron. “Good riddance.”

“Here’s hoping Michael handles his business the way he ought to. I don’t care if the bastard does have Adela’s eyes,” Mike muttered, and that was definitely a sentiment Elizabeth shared. She headed out to begin her shift, and to hopefully not think too much about what Jason might be doing right now.

Was he telling Courtney now? Would he tell her about last night? Or would he keep that to himself?

Or was he telling her nothing? Was he thinking, like she was, that it was all too crazy, and that something that seemed like a good idea after shots of tequila, a long night, and almost no sleep was actually a terrible one?

Did Elizabeth really think Jason was going to go home, tell Courtney it was over, and what—come back to her? It was ridiculous now that Elizabeth thought about it, but it had seemed so—oh, it had seemed so right when they’d stood in her doorway, and he’d looked at her with those eyes the way he always did, and he’d held her, and  kissed her—

She took her orders in almost a daze, on auto, completing a job she could mostly do in her sleep. There was a comfort in the rush of the lunch crowd, the dock workers flocking for their burgers, bowls of chili, BLTs, and sides of fries. She refilled countless ketchup bottles, sidestepped all the usual flirtations, avoided pinches, and pocketed the tips left.

The crowd started to ebb around two, and Elizabeth kept watching the door, though she hardly thought Jason would show up like this. He probably didn’t even know she was there, right? She’d never told him she was coming back to work. And he wouldn’t come to Kelly’s — not when Courtney’s father worked there.

And hell, if Mike found out what Elizabeth had done to his daughter, would he still look at her with those kind, compassionate eyes? The world — what would they think? The roller coaster of her year from Lucky to Zander to Jason to Ric then back to Jason? It was overwhelming — she couldn’t quite understand all her steps and choices over the last eighteen months. How could anyone else? Would anyone even bother?

Or would she been seen like Carly had back in the beginning, just a home wrecking slut who’d broken up a marriage—an engagement. They weren’t married yet. Though that didn’t matter. It shouldn’t.

Then, around three, Courtney came in. Elizabeth didn’t realize at first. She had taken a tub of dirty dishes to the kitchen to be washed, and the blonde was just there at the counter, holding a menu in front of her face even though she’d worked there for almost a year and likely had it memorized.

Her pulse skittering, Elizabeth approached Courtney like she was a ticking time bomb. Had Jason talked to her? Maybe Courtney had been asleep, and he’d probably gone to sleep, too—there’d been so little—no, don’t go down that road.

Courtney put the menu down, and looked at her, and Elizabeth swallowed.

Because it was there in the other woman’s blue eyes — lighter than Elizabeth’s, but not as light as Jason’s. In the cold set of her mouth, the stillness of Courtney’s body.

She knew.

“Dad told me you were coming back,” Courtney said finally. “Can I get a coffee?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Um, decaf?” Elizabeth went to the hot plates. What if she just wasn’t going to say anything—maybe Courtney wouldn’t—

“No, regular. I didn’t get much sleep last night. And neither did you, from what I hear.”

Elizabeth bobbled the carafe, but caught it with her other hand, wincing when her hand brushed the hot glass. She turned back to Courtney, flipped over one of the white ceramic cups, and began to pour. “No,” she said after a long pause. “No, I didn’t.”

“It’s great about Emily. It really is. I don’t know her well, but she means the world to Jason. I know that. And I know you feel the same way. About Emily,” Courtney added. She reached for the cream and sugar, fixed her coffee, and then stirred. “I can understand what happened last night.”

Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the carafe. “What?”

“Don’t—” Courtney’s eyes met hers. “Don’t do that. Jason and I talked. I know what happened. Not the details. I don’t want those. I’ll never—” And her hand shook slightly, belying her own nerves, and somehow that soothed Elizabeth. Neither of them really wanted to be having this conversation.

Because for all that Elizabeth didn’t regret last night, she knew that Courtney being here — she knew what it meant. Jason hadn’t ended anything.

And she realized that she’d been expecting it, because her heart didn’t break. Her brain didn’t freeze. There was no rush of hurt, no waves of despair.

She’d known that even as Jason said he couldn’t just go back to how things were — that it wouldn’t that simple.

“I’ll never want those. But I respect that you and Jason have a history. I knew that last year, and I know that Jason and I—that it meant you and I would never be friends again.” Their eyes connected again. “I made that choice, Elizabeth. I chose Jason. You never could.”

And oh that did hurt. Direct hit. “It wasn’t—that’s true. From one point of view—”

“From the only one that matters. His.” Courtney took a deep breath. “He chose me, too, Elizabeth. Last year. He chose me over and over again. He asked me to marry him. And this morning, he didn’t ask me to leave.” She lay her hand flat against the counter. The diamond on her left ring finger winked.

Elizabeth felt like an idiot, standing there with a coffee spot in her hands, her cheeks hot with humiliation. Because Courtney had every right to be furious with her. To scream at her. To denounce Elizabeth.

But she wasn’t doing any of those things, and somehow it hurt worse. It made it all so much more painful. Because Courtney was being fair. Fairer than she or Jason had a right to expect.

Because she could. Courtney had all the power. The ring, the promises, the life. The one Elizabeth had walked out on and never tried very hard to get back.

“So I just thought we should have this moment, this conversation. Jason didn’t send me. He wouldn’t do that. This is just between you and me.” Courtney paused. “If and when he does get in touch with you—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes at the word if because, oh, it was very much a possibility Jason might just…let it all coast. The old Jason wouldn’t, but the one Elizabeth had repeatedly hurt and walked away from? Whose kindness and love she’d thrown in his face over and over again? He definitely might have had second thoughts when he’d stopped to think what he was giving up.

“You can tell him we talked. I won’t deny it. I haven’t said anything here I haven’t or wouldn’t say to him. But this is the only free pass either of you get,” Courtney said, her eyes fierce now. “You understand that, right? If Emily’s on her deathbed again, I expect you and him to keep your hands to yourself. As long as I’m in the picture. And I am very much in the picture, Elizabeth. I’m not going anywhere without a fight.”

She pushed aside her untouched coffee, dropped a twenty next to it. She smirked. “Because unlike you, I know Jason’s worth fighting for.”

+39

Written in 59 minutes. Off to make coffee! See you at 10!

Morgan Penthouse: Bedroom

When he woke, the sun was streaming through the blinds, flooding the room with slats of light. Jason sat up, looked over at the clock on the night stand and exhaled slowly. It was just before three. Plenty of sleep, and yet —

The fatigue that had been dragging his steps when he’d arrived at the Towers after dawn hadn’t eased. And clarity hadn’t arrived with rest or the cold shower.

He’d spent the night with another woman while his fiancee waited at home. And not just any other woman, but Elizabeth. Jason dug the heels of his hands in both eyes until stars dotted the black in his vision.

It had been simple standing in front of her door seven hours ago. Come home, tell Courtney that it was over because it had to be, didn’t it? He didn’t regret any of it, only that Courtney had known and suspected all night long. Maybe if she hadn’t — if she hadn’t looked at him with that calm expression and told him it was okay if he and Elizabeth had comforted each other, he might have been able to say something.

He should have opened his mouth and told she was wrong — but she wasn’t. Not all the way. He should have told her that he didn’t know if he could go back to pretending Elizabeth didn’t exist, or if he even wanted to. But he hadn’t done any of that. He’d let Courtney forgive him for a crime he hadn’t confessed to, and she’d sent him to bed.

Jason rose, and dressed, almost mechanically. Briefs. Jeans. T-shirt. Socks. Boots. He sat on the edge of the bed to lace the boots, and he had one of those rare flashes — of the night before, Elizabeth on her knees in front of him, smiling with that wicked tilt to her mouth and gleam in her eye—

He practically lunged off the bed and head for the doorway. Courtney was nowhere to be found downstairs, though it wasn’t that surprising since it was halfway through the day. She hadn’t left a note, and he could call if he wanted to find her. But he didn’t feel ready for that yet. She’d come home and want to talk, and Jason needed the words. He needed to do what she’d done — think about what to say so that it came out just right.

Instead, he headed across the hall to check in with the guard on Sonny’s door to be sure that all was well over there after the apparent fight the night before. Max brightened when he saw Jason, the relief palpable. “Jase. Good. Good. I was hoping you’d come by. Miss Matthews said you were still sleeping. She told us your sister’s gonna pull through. That’s really awesome.”

Jason rubbed his chest, but it didn’t relieve the vague itch that plagued him. Courtney telling people about Emily, talking about still sleeping as if he’d spent the entire night worrying about his sister. He’d started it that way, hadn’t he? But—

“She said there was a problem last night.”

“Yeah. Uh, Dougie was on duty last night. Said the shouting was through the door, so he went over to find you or Miss Matthews. She took care of it, but—” Max coughed. “It’s getting worse.”

“I know. Is he up or—”

“Sure, sure. Lemme go see what the situation is.” Maxe knocked lightly, then went inside, leaving Jason in the hallway, already irritated at the idea that he might have to deal with Sonny and Carly again today.

Carly’s return from Venezuela after having been kidnapped for two months should have been a triumphant homecoming—an end to the chaos, worry, and anxiety that had gripped their world since that terrible night in June. Instead, Sonny had found Carly enjoying some luxury as Lorenzo Alcazar’s captive, and he’d become obsessed with it. As if Carly, seven months pregnant, had started an affair with her second kidnapper.

Sonny had been teetering on the edge for weeks, and it wouldn’t take much more to push him over. Jason just wanted to pull him back before that happened so he could stop worrying about him. Stop worrying about what would happen to Carly or the kids.

He just wanted it all to stop.

“He’s good. Awake. Clear-headed,” Max reported in hushed tones. Jason nodded and went past him. Sonny sat at the table by the windows, a cup of coffee in his hands.

He lifted his brows at Jason. “I thought you’d be by sooner. Oversleep?”

“No. I didn’t get in until after dawn.” Jason folded his arms. “Emily — she’s going to—well, she pulled through the night. Not all the way in the clear, but—” He hadn’t even digested that news, he’d released. Let it sink in, be absorbed. He’d received the news, felt the weight leave his shoulders, and had looked next to him at Elizabeth whose bright eyes and smile had matched the way he’d felt—

And he’d kissed her—

Jason shook his head. “Uh, so I just woke up. Did you—did you know where Courtney went?”

“She was here for breakfast,” Sonny said. He picked up the newspaper, flipped to another page. “Head to Club 101 with Carly a little while ago. That’s good news about Emily. I’m glad.”

“Yeah.” Jason’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he tugged it out, half-hoping it would be Elizabeth, but it was Monica. “Hey. What’s up?” he asked, a lick of fear in his throat. “Is Emily still—”

“She’s good. She’s up and ready for visitors.” Monica’s joy radiated through the connection. “I thought you’d want to see her.”

“I do. I really do. I’ll be right there.” Jason closed his phone. “Listen—”

“Go see your sister. Send her my best,” Sonny said, waving him away. “We’ll talk later.”

“Thanks.” Jason headed for the door, eager to see his sister’s recovery for himself.

General Hospital: Emily’s Room

She didn’t look much different than she had the night before — her face was still pale, her movements lethargic but there was a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Jason sat at her bed, picked up her hand, and opened his mouth. Then closed it—his throat had closed, and he couldn’t force out a word.

He really thought he’d spoken his last words to Emily the night before. That he’d never see her again.

“Hey,” Emily said. She smiled faintly. “Fancy seeing you again, huh?”

“Em.” Jason shook his head, squeezed her hand. “I can’t—I’m just so—” The words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence. He dipped his head, took a deep breath.

“Never thought you’d have to see me again, right?” Emily asked, wryly, and his head popped up, stunned. “What, can’t we joke about this kind of thing?”

“I just…I’m so glad to see you.”

“Right back at you.” Emily sighed, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I’m sorry I scared you. That you were all so terrified. Mom said you spent half the night in the chapel. And Elizabeth came back. Lucky and Nikolas did, too. Tell me you didn’t spend the whole night here, Jase.”

“I didn’t. I—” Jason hesitated, looked down. “I ran into Elizabeth. We—we waited together. Neither of us—”

“Wanted to be alone when the call came. I’m glad.” Emily’s voice was a bit raspy. “I’m glad you had someone.  That she did, too. You’re both so stubborn. Always putting yourselves last.” Her voice faded again and she closed her eyes.

“Emily?”

“Mm, sorry, I’ve been doing that all morning.” Her eyelids fluttered again. “You know I’m not…I’m not in remission yet. I could still…put you through all this again.”

“I know,” Jason said. “But—”

“But we’ll take the victories where we can find them. I woke up this morning, and…that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Tears clung to her lashes. “Do me a favor, Jase.”

“Anything.”

“Make sure to smile once in a while. I worry about you.”

“You worry about me?” Jason asked, his brows lifting in surprise. “Em—”

“I know, I know. I’m the one dying. But—” Emily smiled. “I do. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He half-stood, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “Rest. I’ll talk to you later.” He squeezed her hand, then headed for the door.

In the little waiting area outside Emily’s room, he found Elizabeth perched on the edge of the chair. Her hair was pulled back, out of her face, but tendrils fell down around her cheeks. She bit at her thumb, and looked over when she heard the door.

Their eyes locked, and Elizabeth rose. “Oh. Oh. They just told me at the nurse’s station someone was in with her—” She folded her arms, then let them fall to her side, only to fold them again, but this time she wrapped them fully around her torso, hugging herself. “I didn’t know it was you.”

Jason cleared his throat took a step towards her, then stopped when a nurse and doctor passed between them. “You can go in. She’s tired, but I know she wants to see you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Um—” Elizabeth looked away, her blue eyes trained on the cream colored linoleum. “I just—I wanted you to know that…I—I’m back at Kelly’s. Working, I mean. And um, Courtney came in just before I finished my shift.”

“Courtney.” Jason’s stomach pitched, rolled. Was that why she wouldn’t look at him for very long, making eye contact, then darting her eyes away quickly — “She—”

“Um, it’s okay. I just wanted you to know that. I get it. I understand—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, expression pinched. “I do. You made promises to her.”

“Wait.” Jason stepped closer to her, but Elizabeth stepped back. His brow creased. “I didn’t say more than a few words to her when I got in this morning,” he said. “I—I didn’t talk to her. I wanted to. But—” He stopped when another doctor passed them, grimacing. “We can’t talk about this here.”

“We don’t have to. Really—”

“We do.” Jason closed the distance between them, reaching out to grasp her elbow before she could retreat again. Still she wouldn’t look at him. “We do. We have to talk. I’ll wait while you see Emily, and then we’ll…we’ll talk,” he said. She finally looked at him, her blue eyes careful, guarded. Not unlike Courtney’s had been this morning, and it was like a ton of rocks had been dropped on him. Was there any way to get out of this without hurting either of them? Or was it too late?

“Okay,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll talk after.” She slipped away from him then, and into Emily’s room.

——

What had possessed her to bring up Courtney in the hallway like that? Her entire body was flushed with humiliation and frustration. She hadn’t meant to do that — she’d just looked at him, at his face, and his hands, and the night before—earlier that morning—it had all come flooding back. Every touch, caress, kiss—she could feel it like it was still happening—

And right after that the rush of mortification when Courtney had lobbed that grenade at her. She was still in the picture, and she’d fight for it.

Because unlike you, I know Jason’s worth fighting for.

Is that what Jason thought? That Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to fight for him? How could he think anything else after all she’d done to him, all the ways she’d made him feel like he wasn’t enough—

Elizabeth leaned against the closed door, squeezing her eyes shut, willing it all to go away.

“Did you see a ghost or something?”

Emily’s amused, but faint,  voice brought Elizabeth back to reality. Her eyes popped up, then filled at the sight of her best friend, still alive. Still breathing. Still with them.

“Hey, you.” Elizabeth came away from the door. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too. You, I mean. I’m glad to see you. I’m also glad to see me,” Emily admitted, and Elizabeth laughed. She sat down. “Sorry I was so dramatic last night. But you know, those doctors.”

“You fought back,” Elizabeth said. She squeezed Emily’s hand. “And you’re going to keep fighting, you know. You can do this. I’ll be right here with you.”

“Like I’d let you get that far.” Emily’s eyes fluttered closed, then opened again. “What’s wrong? You were upset when you came in. Did—” Her face fell. “You and Jason. You’re not upset with each other again, are you?”

“What?” Elizabeth blinked. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well, he told me he took you home. That you guys waited together—”

“He said that—”

“And—” Emily made a face. “I hate this,” she muttered. “Jason never tells me what’s wrong, and I could tell something was. I can tell you’re upset. But you won’t say why, will you? And if I asked him—”

“Em, you should just be concentrating on yourself—”

“When I get out of this bed—” Her voice faltered, fading out. “I’m going to kick both your asses.”

“I look forward to it.”

Elizabeth’s Studio: Hallway

Maybe it had been a mistake to accept the offer a ride back to her studio, but Elizabeth couldn’t pass up the chance to sit behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, and hold on like she’d never let go.

She’d let go so many times — why was she surprised that Jason had run out of patience and stopped holding his hand out? Last night had been a mistake, she knew that. It had to be. And he was trying to think of a way to tell her that. To be kind about it.

She stopped at the door, then turned to look at him — the way she had this morning, when the real world hadn’t existed for either of them. Her eyes searched his. “It’s okay, you know. I’m not mad or anything. That you decided to stay—”

“I didn’t—” Jason grimaced, took out his own keys and with a start, she realized he had his own copies. Her heart pounded as she watched him unlock her door.

“You still have them.”

“Well—” Jason looked down at the keys in his hand, then back at her. “You never know when I’ll need a place to hide.”

Because the world was always waiting to ruin everything, Elizabeth thought. She took a deep breath, forced a smile. “You know you can always come to me. I won’t—” She shook her head, went inside the studio.

“Elizabeth—” Jason followed, closing the door with one hand. “Listen—”

“Courtney said—”

“Courtney saw us last night,” Jason said and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Leaving the hospital. She didn’t know for sure. She still doesn’t unless you said something.”

“I—” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “She knows, Jason. She told me she knows. Whether or not you confirmed it with words—” She looked at him. “I don’t understand. I told you I’m not mad that you decided to stay, and you’re saying we need to talk because you didn’t decide—but now—now, you’re saying that our secret is still safe—is supposed to be a secret then?” Her voice wobbled on the last few words. “Because you don’t want her to know for sure?”

Jason closed his eyes, winced. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t—I was tired when I got home. And I meant what I said when I left here.” He took a step towards her, and like the hospital, she stepped back. “I mean it,” he repeated. “I still do. It’s just—”

“You looked at her and remembered all the reasons you love her,” Elizabeth finished.

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it, a bit mystified. Bewildered. “No. Yes, but—” He fisted his hand. “It’s more that — I realized that I was going to hurt her, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that, you know? I didn’t know how to start the conversation and then she started it for me, and I was tired—”

“Jason—”

“It seemed so easy when it was just us,” he murmured, more to himself. “Standing out in the hallway, I looked at you—” His eyes found hers. “And it’s all I wanted. To come back here and be with you.”

“That’s how it always is,” Elizabeth said. One hot tear slid down her cheek. “We work really well in here. In your room at Jake’s, on your bike, sitting on a bench—when it’s just us, oh, it’s the best feeling in the world.” She smiled even as the tears continued. “But that’s not the real world. Last night — it felt like a moment out of time. And maybe we’re not meant to hold on to it. Maybe we never are.”

“I won’t—no, I don’t believe that. I won’t—” Jason strode towards her and kissed her, cupping her jaw with his hands. Elizabeth slid her hands up to push him away, then fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer.

+44

Written in 56 minutes.

Elizabeth’s Studio

Maybe we’re not meant to hold to it.

He probably shouldn’t have touched her again. Common sense and rational thought always seemed to short-circuit the minute his hands were on her soft skin, the taste of her on his tongue—

Jason didn’t want to stop kissing her, didn’t want to stop touching her—his hands slid down to her hips, and he started to back her to the sofa, her fingers at the hem of his shirt, and he knew that everything would just go away if he never stopped, if the sensations just went on forever—

And then a cold rush of air swept over him—Elizabeth pressed her hands against his chest, pushed instead of pulled and he was thrust back into the real world, nearly panting. “Elizabeth—”

“She’s still wearing your ring,” Elizabeth managed, her lashes lush with the tears clinging to them. “This isn’t who you are. This isn’t who I am. I don’t want to be these people, Jason. Okay?” She pressed her fingers to her mouth—they were trembling, and it all rushed back to him.

When it was just them, when he didn’t think about anything about her and the way she made him feel—it was easy to think it would be easy.

But it wasn’t just them.

Jason swallowed hard. “I’m sorry—”

“For what?” Elizabeth looked at him, misery etched in every line of her expression. “For kissing me? For having the keys to the room, for not stopping? What are you sorry for?”

The answer should be all of it, but it wasn’t. And wasn’t that the real crime? He took a deep breath. “For making you cry. Not the rest of it.”

She closed her eyes, but tears continued. She wrapped her arms around her torso, her shoulders stiff. “We should be sorry. Shouldn’t we? For all of it.”

“Yes.”

“I stood there holding a pot of coffee,” she said, her voice soft. “And she told me she understood. That you chose her over and over again, and she’s right—” And now she looked at him. “You chose her. To see in secret. To build a life with. And I wish I could be angry about that. I wish I could rage—that I could hold on to that as evidence that I don’t matter—”

“That’s not true—”

“I know. I know.” Her lips curved in a smile, but her eyes remained shattered. “You chose her, Jason, because I never chose you. I ran when I should have stayed. I threw angry words at you over and over again, words you never deserved—”

“Elizabeth.” He took a hesitant step towards her, relieved when she didn’t move back again. “It’s not like that—”

“I’m not angry with you because you didn’t break up with Courtney this morning. And if you go home, and you see her, and you still don’t—” Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. “I won’t be angry if you decide to stay.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “Why not? I promised you—”

“But you promised her first, and I know you, Jason. I pretend I don’t, but I do. You weren’t lying when you asked her to marry you. You meant it. And you would have married her that night in June. You looked in her eyes this morning, Jason, and you remembered that.” She tipped her head. “You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you could make those kind of promises and throw them away easily.”

The soft declaration hung between them, and Jason wanted to offer the words back to her. He wanted to tell her that he’d loved her for so long that it was simply part of his soul, a piece of his identity that would always belong to her, that he’d always be in this room with her, teasing her about soup and singing and paper chains and picking splinters out of her skin and standing by a window—

“I did mean them—” Jason said carefully. But then he stopped because he didn’t know what else to add. He meant them in May. In June. July. August. Did he mean them today? He didn’t know the answer to that.

“She said something else,” Elizabeth said finally. Their eyes met. “She chose you because she knew you were worth fighting for. That I didn’t fight for you. I didn’t. You know that. I don’t know why.” She sighed, rubbed her mouth. “I spent so many years fighting for Lucky, so determined to hold on to that dream. Maybe I just didn’t have it in me to keep going. To keep battling for my place in someone else’s life. Even if I don’t think I would have had to fight very hard.”

She bit her lip, then nodded. Squared her shoulders, looked at him again. “I don’t know what’s in your heart, Jason. Maybe you don’t either. That’s okay. I…I can wait. For you to be sure. Whether it’s with her, or with me—” She smiled, and it looked almost genuine this time. “Either way, you’re what matters. I want you to be happy. Wherever that takes you. If it’s me, then, okay. But really, if it’s with Courtney, then I’ll wish you well.”

He stared at her, a bit thrown. Confused. He didn’t know what he’d expected from this conversation. Maybe anger that he hadn’t kept his promise, or an ultimatum — a clear path forward, Jason thought. He’d wanted her to give him a direction, and she hadn’t.

She was placing the choice in his hands, the way he’d always done for her. It was her life that would change if he’d kissed her that day in his room at Jake’s. In the park. And if she didn’t want it, if she wasn’t ready, then it was better to never know what it would feel like to hold her. He didn’t want just a piece, he’d wanted everything, and she hadn’t been ready to give it to him.

Now—now, she was doing the same to him, and he wondered if she’d been as frustrated as he was not to have someone else make the choice for him.

“I should go,” Jason said finally. “I—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth raised her hands to her face, wiping at her tears with her index fingers. She walked past him, pulled the door open. “It is. I promise. Um, you said something to me once a few years ago that I really needed to hear…” They stood close, separated by a few physical inches, though it felt like an ocean between them. “I won’t come to you, but if you come to me, I won’t turn you away.”

He smiled now, shook his head. “You were mad at me when I said that.”

“I know. Because I knew even though I should stay away from you, I wouldn’t be able to.” She leaned her cheek against the edge of the door. “Maybe I’m hoping for a better ending this time.”

Jason touched her cheek, the pad of his thumb catching another tear. She closed her eyes, leaned into his touch. “You should go.”

“I know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and went into the hallway. The door closed behind him, and he heard the locks a moment later. Jason rested his hand against the door, took a deep breath, and left.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Courtney was on the sofa when Jason returned, curled up with the remote in her hand and something on th screen in front of her. When he came through the door, she switched it off, looked at him.

“I spent last night with Elizabeth,” Jason said, and Courtney sighed. She swung her legs to the ground, stood. “At Jake’s. In bed.”

“Did you think I needed to hear that confirmed—”

“No, but I needed to say it.” Jason set his keys on the desk, and looked at her. Her hands rested limply at her side. “You went to see Elizabeth. You told her that we’d talked. We haven’t.”

“She works fast,” Courtney said. She folded her arms. “How quick did she have you on the phone to cry about it—”

“I ran into her at the hospital. Visiting Emily.”

“Okay, so I told her we talked. We did. And you told me everything I needed to know when you came in and went upstairs. You chose me. Didn’t you?” Courtney lifted her brows. “Because if you’d wanted this ring, all you’d have to do is ask—in fact—” She twisted it from her finger. Set it on the desk. “There you go. I’ll make it easy. You decide if I get to keep that.”

Jason stared at it — the little circlet of gold with the diamond stone setting. He’d picked it out with Carly after she’d suggested marriage. He probably wouldn’t have thought of it on his own — it had only been a few months, after all. But Courtney had stuck with him through the worst of what his life had to offer, and she’d never flinched. She loved him anyway, and so he’d thought it was a good idea. He’d taken Carly to the jewelry store and she’d pointed out a few options.

He’d bought the one that he liked, brought it home and he’d proposed. And Courtney had been happy — so had he, Jason acknowledged, because it was nice to come home to someone who loved you and didn’t always constantly demand more.

Jason picked up the ring, turned it over in his hand. Did he want her to have this back? Did he want the life that ring promised?

He didn’t know the answer to that anymore. It wasn’t the yes it had been a few months ago. It wasn’t the no it had been this morning, standing in the hallway outside Elizabeth’s studio.

He set it back on the desk. “You can do whatever you want with that,” Jason said finally, and Courtney’s eyes darkened. “It’s yours, no matter what happens here.”

She pursed her lips, picked it up, slid it back on her her finger. “I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t just say no, right? Did you even think about me?” she asked abruptly, her eyes flashing to his. “Last night. When you were screwing another woman, did I even enter your consciousness?”

“No,” Jason said, and she closed her eyes, absorbed that. “I didn’t plan it. It happened—”

“Don’t—don’t say that—you’re a deliberate man, Jason. You don’t act on impulse, okay? I know that. So—” Courtney grimaced, looked away. “Are you sorry? Do you wish it hadn’t happened?” Her gaze snapped back. “And don’t lie. I’ll know.”

“No, I don’t wish I hadn’t happened. And I’m not—I’m not sorry.  Not the way you want me to be.”

She nodded. “No regrets? Not even one?” Courtney laughed, a shaky sound without an ounce of mirth. “Wow. Okay, well I asked, didn’t I? Serves me right. Okay, fine. Was it good?” Her eyes squinted into little slits. “Was it everything you’d ever wanted it to be?”

“Don’t—don’t do this—”

“No, I think I get to interrogate you a little bit, Jason. You asked me to marry you,” she spat. “And you spent the night with another woman—not just some whore you picked up in a bar — but Elizabeth. Your ex—God, whatever she is. Ex-girlfriend, ex-friend, ex-crush, I don’t know. Pick a word and go with it. But you don’t get to stand there and tell me I can’t ask for whatever details I damn well please.”

Jason knew he deserved this — knew that the anger and hurt were valid, and that every piece of it was earned. But it didn’t make any of this easier.

“So what happens now?” Courtney demanded. “You didn’t take the ring back. So you still want to marry me? Am I just supposed to put up with the idea that maybe every few years you and Elizabeth will circle back to each other, no matter who you’re involved with? Oh, you think I don’t know about that?” she retorted when Jason frowned at her. “Carly told me how Elizabeth played you like a violin a few years ago, when she had you and Lucky Spencer on the hook, making you fight over her—”

“That’s not what happened—”

“Well, whatever. It’s not going to happen this time. I told Elizabeth what she needed to know. That as long as I’m in the picture, she needs to keep her hands to herself. I don’t think it’s out of line, do you?”

Maybe not, but everything inside of Jason said it had been more than that — but unlike Courtney, he wasn’t going to keep pushing. “Courtney—”

“You didn’t answer my question. What happens now? Do you want to be with her? Do you want to leave me? After everything we’ve been through?” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard. “Because, let me tell you, this is some bullshit if you leave me now and go to her. I had a miscarriage less than a month ago, and I found out I can’t have kids, and you didn’t even so much as blink when I told you—”

“Courtney—”

“Can you say anything other than my name!” she broke in, her voice rising to almost hysterical pitch. “Because that’s what this is! You and I both know it! You love kids. Christ, look at how much you’ve let Sonny and Carly push you around because of Michael — you want kids of your own, and I can’t give them to you, but I bet she can, huh?”

“That has nothing to do with it—”

“The only thing that’s changed between us is that I can’t have any children,” Courtney shot back. “That’s it. So if it’s not that, then maybe you never loved me at all. Maybe you were just settling because Elizabeth didn’t want you. What makes you think she’ll stay this time?” she charged.

None of this was going the way he wanted it to, and he didn’t know how to tell her that her ability to have kids had never even entered his consciousness, but —

“How can you throw away everything we’ve been to each other? Did it mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you?” Courtney begged, and now she was sobbing, holding her hands to her mouth. “Was I just a warm body—”

Jason closed the distance between them, and took her in his arms as she broke down, her tears warm against his neck. “No, no, that’s not true. None of it—”

“Then tell me you love me, okay? Tell me—tell me right now and I’ll believe it—” Courtney pulled away, fisted her hands in his shirt. “Tell me, Jason, and we’ll just forget all of this ever happened. I won’t ever bring it up again—”

“I—”

There was a frantic knocking at the door, and Jason turned, releasing Courtney and going to the door. As soon as he’d done that, the screaming and yelling could be heard. Jason winced. Not again.

Max stood there, grim. “I heard glass breaking, and Mrs. C is pretty upset. I think you’d better get over there.”

+39

Written in 54 minutes. This was a good stopping point.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Max had left the door open when he’d rushed across the hall. Jason reached the other penthouse before Courtney to find Sonny staring blankly at the remains of shattered glass and brown liquor on the hardwood floor, and Carly crying, one hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs, and the other wrapped protectively over her belly, now eight months gone.

It wasn’t the first time since Carly’s return that Jason come over in the aftermath of a vicious, angry argument, and it wouldn’t be a last. He knew his part in this charade, and so did Courtney. Sonny’s sister went straight to Carly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, murmuring soothing words.

Jason went to Sonny, took him by the arm, alarmed by how docilely the older man acted as he was led towards the fireplace, widening the gap between husband and wife.

“M-Michael—he’s upstairs—but I know he heard—I know—” Carly’s hitched words. “He just—he won’t believe me—he doesn’t believe me—”

“Let’s get some water, okay? Let’s get something to drink,” Courtney suggested, stroking Carly’s back. She guided her sister-in-law in the direction of the kitchen, disappearing around the corner.

Jason got Sonny to sit on the sofa, then went to Max standing in the doorway, his hands hanging limply at his side. “No one else was up here today?” he asked, his voice low. “None of the other guards?”

“N-no, just me. I’m supposed to be off in twenty, but—” he swallowed hard. “I’ll call. Tell Diego I’m pulling a double.”

“Good. Good. Take care of that.” Jason rubbed his thumb against his brow. Sonny’s erratic behavior was bad enough on a personal level, but if it were just that then maybe Jason wouldn’t feel like he had to be involved.

But not all of the guards had been with them for years — and not all could be trusted with the uncomfortable truth about Sonny’s dark moods and breakdowns. Max could, and Jason would have to make sure the guard was compensated for the extra time and effort.

If the wrong people knew how unstable Sonny could get — how easy it would be to exploit that vulnerability, it would be all out war. Violence would escalate and people would get hurt. Jason would do anything he had to do to prevent that, to preserve the peace.

He’d chosen this life and it was too late to turn back. All he could do now was keep it steady and predictable. Which meant protecting Sonny.

He closed the door, then went back to Sonny. He sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Sonny—”

“I didn’t mean to—” Sonny’s dark eyes darted away. “I wasn’t going to say anything to day. We talked about it. We talked and I believe you. I believe you that Carly—I know she’d never do anything. I know—I know that it’s good that she was treated well after all—” He swallowed hard, and his voice shook. “But I thought I saw Lily on the balcony—”

Jason looked Sonny at the closed balcony doors, at the setting sun in the background, then back at Sonny. “It was a trick of a light. Your imagination,” he told his friend carefully. “You know that.”

“I do. She died. My son. She and my son died because I couldn’t protect her—” Sonny dragged a hand over his mouth. “Couldn’t protect her, just like Carly. Alcazar. He got her out of that panic room, and she was happy there—”

“No,” Jason said, his voice sharp because that was how it always started. “Not happy. Relieved to have sunlight and real food. The ability to walk around. She was locked in a small, cramped panic room for three weeks, Sonny. Anything after that would feel like a paradise.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t remember that—”

“You will. We’ll talk about it as much as you need to. You and me, Sonny. But Carly’s been through so much. Kidnapped in front of her son, trapped in a panic room, threatened with death, kidnapped again — she needs rest and relaxation. She’s going to have a baby. Your son. Her health comes first.”

“Right. Right.” Sonny dipped his head. “My son. Our son. We have to save him this time. Can’t lose another one. Wouldn’t—” He curled his hand in a fist, unfurled it, then formed it again. “Wouldn’t survive it again,” he muttered.

“I know that,” Jason said. “Why don’t you lie down? You’ll feel better in the morning.” He always did — it was the twilight hours, the darkness of night that always set Sonny off. He’d be better off living somewhere where the night was short, and the days long.

But for now, getting him to bed and finding the sedatives that always seemed to calm him would have to be enough.

Jason settled Sonny in his room, made sure he slipped the pills into the water he gave Sonny. Watched him drink it. When Jason was sure, he left and went down the hallway to Michael’s bedroom.

The bed was against one wall, and he found Michael curled up in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest, his little head buried against his thighs. “Hey, buddy,” Jason said, closing the door and heading over to the bed.

Michael’s head popped up, and relief spread across his little face. “Uncle Jason!” He launched himself into Jason’s arms, and he held on tight. “They were screaming and yelling and Mommy cried, then something broke, and I got scared so I stayed in here just like you told me to—”

Jason rubbed his back, letting the little boy ramble out all his worries in a stream of conscious. “You did good, Michael. I’m sorry you were scared. I’m trying really hard to stop that it from happening again.”

“I knew you’d come and you’d fix everything.” Michael sniffled. “You always do. You found Mommy and you brought her home. She’s so sad all the time, Uncle Jason. Can’t you fix that?”

“I’m trying.” Jason stood and Michael wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist, and he walked him around the room, hoping the movement would soothe him,  almost the way he’d done when he was just a baby. This room had been Michael’s nursery when he’d been Jason’s…responsibility. His mind skittered away from the reminder that this boy had been his son. He knew that wasn’t true — but it was hard to stop loving him that way. To stop wishing he could wrap Michael in cotton so that the world would stop hurting him.

“I love you, Uncle Jason. Can I come live with you?”

Jason sighed, then sat back on the bed, Michael still in his lap. “We talked about this,” he told Michael. “You live here with your mom and your dad. I’m across the hall and I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“You went away for a while,” Michael said with a sniffle. “I ‘member you coming home and Mommy was so happy. We were all happy.”

“I know.”

“I just wanna be happy again.”

“I’m working on it. I promise.”

“I know. You never break your promises. You always keep them. So I know you’ll make this all okay.”

“It’s almost eight,” Jason said, and Michael made a face. “Isn’t that bedtime?”

“I don’t want it to be,” the child said glumly, but he half-crawled, half-scooted towards the headboard and slid under his brightly covered comforter. “Will you read to me?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” Jason reached for the book on the nightstand. “Where am I starting? What chapter?”

Michael laid down. “We finished three. With all the letters, remember?”

“I do now.” Jason flipped to the right page and began to read. “BOOM. They knocked again…”

He only made it a few pages into the chapter before Michael’s eyes closed, and Jason carefully closed it, marking his page and setting it on the table. He didn’t read to Michael every night—it was usually Carly—but lately, it felt like he was here more often than not. And that wasn’t a good thing, he knew. It wasn’t healthy for him to still be protecting and loving Michael the same as a father would.

But Michael didn’t deserve the world he was living in, so Jason had to step in. To make sure that whatever Sonny and Carly were dealing with didn’t ripple out and hurt Michael.

Because no matter how wrong, no matter how unhealthy, Michael would always be a little bit his.

He switched on Michael’s night light, then flipped the switch on the larger light by the door. He headed for the stairs, and found Courtney over by the minibar with a broom and dust pan in her hand.

“Let me do that,” he told her, hurrying forward. “There’s glass—”

“I can do it,” Courtney said, but there was no heat in her voice, just exhaustion. “I cleaned up worse at Kelly’s. Carly went upstairs about five minutes ago. Guest room,” she added. “She’s not up to talking about what happened. Just cried and cried—” She dumped the tray filled with glass shards into a trash can. “He’s making her feel guilty for not fighting Alcazar harder. For wearing the clothes he gave her, eating the food, walking around his house without shackles—”

“I know.” Jason folded his arms, leaned against the sofa. “He always seems to understand when we talk about it, but—”

“He forgets when they’re alone. It’s awful, you know, what’s going on. It’s like—” Courtney made a face. “He’s my brother, and I love him because I want to love him. But sometimes I don’t know if I really do. If it’s just a choice I’ve made because I don’t have any other family.” She swept the last few pieces into the dust pan. “How’s Michael?”

“Upset. Just like always. I calmed him down, read to him. Sonny took a sedative, so they’ll be good until morning.”

She nodded. “Until it starts again tomorrow. Or the day after.” She looks at him. “What’s the end game, Jason? Do we keep cleaning up after them? Patching them up until the next time? Because there’s always a next time. I’m so tired, and it’s only been a few months. I know you’ve been doing it for years.”

“It wasn’t always this bad. It’s never been this bad, actually,” Jason said. “I don’t know what they were like when I didn’t live here. It’s…” He squinted. “It’s the baby, I think. They lost the first one, and Sonny — I think the kidnapping brought back what happened to Lily.”

“Another pregnant wife he couldn’t protect. I get it, and I’m sympathetic but—Carly’s my best friend. I don’t know how—” Courtney said with a half smile. “But she is, and this is killing her. She’s been through enough.”

“I know.”

When she’d finished cleaning up the remains of the bourbon bottle, Jason disposed of the glass in the trash can and they headed across the hall. He closed the door behind him, and flipped the deadbolts.

He turned and found her looking at him. And it came rushing back — the argument they’d been having before Max’s call. The night before. The conversation at Elizabeth’s studio.  And now that the storm had passed—

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you,” Courtney said finally. “I don’t know why I should have to argue for myself — I’ve been here for almost a year. Ten months since that night at my apartment.” Her eyes searched his. “I know you and Elizabeth have a history. Maybe it’s worse because you never really got started, and you’ll always wonder what if. I—I do get that. Sometimes I think about AJ, you know? What if I’d forgiven him? What if he hadn’t been so scared I’d leave him that he tried to trick me into staying—” She looked away. “I understand about the what ifs and the way your mind plays tricks on you.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Jason said. “Or lie to you. But—”

“You lied when you said you weren’t in love with her. I knew it when you said. I don’t know if you did.” She met his eyes. “We have a life, Jason. We have a family. You and me. Sonny and Carly, and Michael. This new baby. We’re a family, and we were happy before this summer. Weren’t we? Did I imagine that?”

“No. No.” He stepped towards her. “You didn’t. But—”

“But you have a history with Elizabeth. We have one now, too. I’m not asking you to…I’m not asking you to forget that,” Courtney said. “I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m just asking you not to throw away everything we have. We work, you and me. We’ve been working for months and months. I don’t understand why that doesn’t get to count. You and Elizabeth — did that ever work for more than a few moments? A few days?”

“No,” Jason said, then looked away. “No,” he repeated. Elizabeth had said as much, hadn’t she? When it was just them — it was magic. But that wasn’t real life. And maybe it hurt more because they’d both held on to a dream that had already ended. Maybe she was right. Maybe they were meant to hold on it. Was love supposed to be that painful, that difficult?

He did have a life with Courtney, and it did work. They’d been happy. He loved her. He’d asked her to marry him, to share a life. And maybe she was right. Maybe he’d drifted back towards Elizabeth because everything had been so chaotic in the wake of Carly’s rescue. Maybe he’d wanted that quiet peace that he only ever found with Elizabeth, sitting in a room with her, and listening to her talk.

But maybe she was an escape he wasn’t supposed to need anymore. Hadn’t she said that once to him? With Lucky home, she shouldn’t have needed an escape. He hadn’t really understood what she’d meant then. But now—looking at Courtney, he almost did.

“You’re really quiet. Are you thinking—” she folded her arms. “You’re thinking of ways to explain to me why you’re leaving.”

“No,” Jason said, softly. He came forward, took her in his arms. “No, I’m not. I did what I did, and I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t about having children. There are other ways to make that happen. You’re right. We have a history, too. And you don’t deserve for me to throw it away like it doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Her lips trembled, parted as if she wanted to say something, then she closed them. “So you’re—you’re not leaving me for her.”

“No. I’m not.” But even as he spoke the words, even as he saw the smile on her face, they felt wrong. They weren’t — it was the right choice, he knew that. He and Courtney had a relationship that worked, and he loved her enough to try to make this work.

It was just — he knew he loved Elizabeth, too. But when he’d opened his mouth to tell Courtney that he wanted to be with Elizabeth, he couldn’t say the words. Because what if it always ended the way it did with Elizabeth — with her walking away?

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason said, and her smile was a little more genuine, but instead of making him feel better — he just felt worse.

Was this how Elizabeth felt every time she’d walked away and went back to Lucky? Was he making the same mistake she had? Staying because he thought he should and not because he wanted to?

He thought maybe he was, and for the first time, he understood that some mistakes needed to be made. And he was making this one—for better or for worse.

don’t hate me <3 i love you. we’re going on a journey my lovelys. trust the process. 

+26

Written in 50 minutes. I did do a read through to look for typos, but my mother called so I didn’t do it as closely as I wanted to, lol. I’ll find them as soon as I posted, I know. Next update on Tuesday!

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth refilled Nikolas’s coffee cup. “It’s hard to set realistic expectations after all that, you know?” she told him. “I know she still has rounds of chemo and so much work ahead of her before she goes into remission—”

“If,” Nikolas corrected, almost on a mutter. He cupped the ceramic white cup with both hands, rotating it gently. “I can’t let myself believe it. It’ll hurt too much when it doesn’t work.”

“I know. I know. But I also—” Elizabeth paused when she saw a familiar figure in the courtyard, lingering between the window and door, almost as if he wanted to come in but couldn’t figure out how to work the handle. Her throat tightened, and their eyes met.

Oh, God.

“Liz?” Nikolas asked, and she looked at him, blinking. He frowned, then twisted in his seat, his lips thinning when he saw who had caught her attention. “Oh, hell.” He turned back around, dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t know that was back. I mean, that you and him—”

“We’re not,” Elizabeth murmured. And we won’t be, she thought.

The door finally opened, and even the jingle of the bells sounded muted as Jason entered, walking slowly towards her, heaviness in every step. Her lower lip quivered, so she bit down on it.

“Nikolas?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you do, stay right there.”

“Got it.”

Jason stopped in front of her, rested the tips of both hands on the counter. Their eyes met for one excruciating minute, then he looked away. “I was—if you had a few minutes—”

“I’m on break in ten minutes,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll talk to you in the alley. Not in here. Or out there.” Not in the courtyard where he’d walked away from her for the first time all those years ago.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He cleared his throat, almost as if he wanted to say something else, but mercifully, he left.

Nikolas watched him go, then studied Elizabeth’s face. “You’re not going to tell me what that’s about, are you?”

“Nothing. It’s—”

“Hey. I know I have a terrible track record when it comes to that topic, and I’m not going to fix that in the next ten minutes,” Nikolas said. “You don’t have to lie to me Just tell me to butt out.”

“It’s not that. I just—” She very carefully picked up a dish towel and folded it, desperately needing something to do, an action to perform so that her hands didn’t shake. “I can’t talk about it. Physically. I mean. I need to take the next ten minutes to decide how to do this, and I don’t have the bandwidth to explain any of it to you right now. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize for doing what you need to do to survive, Liz.” Nikolas raised the cup to his lips. “You don’t report to me and you’re not accountable to me, either. But whatever happens next, I hope you know I’m here for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She kept herself busy for what time remained before her break, and still didn’t have any epiphany for what had to come next. Only that she wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“Go on and take your break,” Penny said, passing her with a carafe of coffee. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks.” Elizabeth headed for the kitchen where the back entrance lead to the alley.

Jason stood there, leaning against the opposite wall. He straightened when she pushed the door open and stepped out. “Hey—”

“I know I asked you to wait out here, but—” She folded her arms, looked down at the ground, kicked at a stray piece of glass that had escaped the trash bins. “I honestly don’t think I want to do this here, either. I don’t want to do it at all. I still have three hours on my shift, and right now, I can pretend I don’t know what you’re going to say. I can’t finish my shift if I know.”

Jason exhaled on a long breath. “I didn’t—I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“No,” Elizabeth said, her smile grim. “You don’t work a nine to five, so I guess it wouldn’t occur to you. I’ll meet you at my studio in three hours. And no, you can’t come here and pick me up,” she added when he opened his mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”

“No. No. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth looked at him for another long moment, searching his eyes, then went back inside. She leaned against the closed door, squeezed her eyes shut.

“You okay over there, Lizzie?” DJ, the cook on the grill for the breakfast shift, asked.

“Okay is a strong word, DJ. I’m surviving. That’s good enough.”

She’d make it enough.

Three hours later, she turned over what tables remained to the next waitress, grateful for the lunch rush which had made it impossible to think about anything else. She’d needed the time, the space, the distraction. She’d only get one chance at this conversation, and she really wanted to walk away from all of this knowing she’d done the right thing by herself—and by Jason.

She walked home, wishing she lived further, that she could put off this conversation again. To prolong the silly hope that somehow, if she didn’t do this today, tomorrow would be different. But it wouldn’t be.

Jason was waiting for her, and she almost wondered if he’d come directly here and had sat here for the last three hours. She nearly asked, but didn’t. Her keys were in her hand when she approached the door.

“Thanks,” Elizabeth said, sliding the key into the lock, twisting to release the catch and deadbolt. “For, um, waiting. I needed a chance to….I needed to be ready for this.” She walked into the studio ahead of him, and if she’d had any doubts about his choice, they would have been erased when he followed her inside, closed the door and stayed on the other side of the room.

“Elizabeth—”

She sat on the arm of her sofa. “You don’t have to say it. You went home and you looked at her, and you realized it’s insanity to walk away from what you know you can live with, from someone who makes you happy enough, that you love enough. To walk away from the life you know and trust—” Her voice trembled. “And risk it for someone who never stays anyway—”

“Don’t say that,” Jason said, coming forward just a step, then stopping, fisting his hands at his side. “That’s not what you are to me—”

“That’s what you were to me,” she interrupted, and he closed his mouth. “That day in the park. You offered me the world, and I almost said yes. But you backed off. Do you remember that? I asked if you wanted me to go with you, and you said it didn’t matter as long as I was free. And I—” She brushed at an errant tear. “And I said no. Because what if I walked away from everything and everyone and you decided it wasn’t real, that you didn’t love me after all, not that you loved me in the first place—but I just—I couldn’t trust it. Maybe I was only unhappy because you were here, and I could imagine something different. But before you came home, I was happy. Happy enough. I loved Lucky enough. Maybe once you went away, it all go back the way it used to be.”

Jason swallowed hard. “Did it?”

She smiled at him through her tears. “No, it didn’t. But I didn’t know that then. I couldn’t. You were the risk I was too scared to take, and the regret I’ll have to live with, I guess.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She could do this.

She could do this.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at him. Really looked at him. “I’m not saying staying with Courtney is a mistake. It’d be so arrogant and self-serving, right? To tell you that we couldn’t have shared what we did that night if you’d been really happy—I’m not that person, and neither are you. I know that staying with Lucky was the choice that I made willingly, and just because it turned into a mistake, it didn’t mean it started that way.”

Jason dragged a hand down his face. “I just—I love her,” he said in a low voice, and Elizabeth was surprised when the words didn’t stab her in the gut the way she’d expect. “We…work. Outside. In my life. She understands it and—”

“She’s part of Sonny’s family. Friends with Carly. She fits, Jason. And you love her. I understand.”

“I—” Jason paused, as if searching for the right words. “I love you, too,” he said, and those words did slice at her, because she’d dreamt of hearing them and now it was being said as he walked away. “I don’t know if that’s—if I should tell you that—but I can’t stand it if you think I don’t—or that the other night—that it was—I should regret it. I know this would all be easier if I did, but—”  He looked away, shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. I’m standing here, and I don’t want to do this. But then I go home—”

“And your brain tells you all the reasons why you and Courtney have lasted for months and months, and why you and I didn’t make it three weeks.”

Jason looked at her sharply. “I didn’t—I knew why we didn’t. I lied to you. I should have told you about Sonny.”

“And I should have given you the grace you had earned over and over again. For all the times I hurt you, for all the times I didn’t stand by you, I should have stayed. Fought about it. But I left. And I don’t get to complain that you didn’t fight for us. Because I didn’t either.” She looked down at her hands, twisting the silver ring on her right hand.

“It just…it was too hard,” Jason admitted, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” She looked up, smiled, tears stinging again. “I want you to know that there’s a part of me that wants to fight you now. And I’m struggling—because maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. I haven’t  yet. Maybe that would work. If I cried, and I begged you to—” Her voice trembled, and swallowed. “If I begged you to stay. To love me. To choose me.” The tears spilled over the edge, hot and torrid, and she pressed her hands to her face, horrified. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I’m not doing that — I just—I said it out loud, and it hurt so much—” She threw up her hands when he started across the room. “No. No. You made a decision, okay, and if you come over here, you’ll hold me, and we’ll never get through this and we’ll keep doing this stupid dance over and over again until I can’t breath anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m messing this up. I’m hurting you, I’m hurting her—”

“And yourself. You’re hurting you, and you won’t say that. Because you never do—you always put yourself last, and I’m trying so hard to put you first, okay? Because you’re what matters.”

“You matter, too—” But Jason stayed where he was, though his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, as if that was the only way to protect himself. “You do. And—”

“You have to do this. Because you were happy with her before it all went to hell. You were happy and you loved her, and you wanted to marry her,” Elizabeth said. “So you have to do this. You need to go be sure that you can’t get that back. I promise you, I understand. I do.”

“Maybe this would be easier if you didn’t,” Jason muttered and she smiled. “If you were angry at me, or throwing things—”

“Oh, yeah, it definitely would be,” Elizabeth said, with teary-eyed laughter. She  smiled at him. “I love you. And I want you to be happy. I told you yesterday, and I meant that. If it’s with her, I wish you happiness. I do, Jason.”

“If you need me, if you need anything—”

“I know where to find you. I always do.” She wrapped her arms around herself, smiled. “It’s better this way. You know? I’d always wonder if you loved me or you were staying because you’d blown everything else up and had no where to go. We’re not those people, Jason. We’d never be happy if it came at her expense, would we?”

“No,” he said softly. He came forward now, and this time she let him. “No, we  wouldn’t.” He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the last of her tears. “I want you to be happy, too. You deserve it. Promise me you’ll be happy.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Elizabeth said and he closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll try, though. Okay?”

Jason gently kissed her  forehead, his lips lingering. She put one hand around his wrist, the way she had long ago day the first time he’d left her. Then he looked at her, and she braced herself for the goodbye.

“I’ll see you later,” he told her, and she smiled again.

“I’ll see you later,” she echoed.

And then he left.

+38

Written in 65 minutes.

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Jason stepped up to the penthouse door, hesitating before twisting the knob. In the last forty-eight hours, he’d sat vigil over his dying sister, slept with Elizabeth, nearly broken up with his fiancee, patched up another fight with Sonny and Carly, and today…this afternoon…he’d stood in the studio, listening to Elizabeth rationalize all of this until she’d found a way to let him off the hook. To make everything he’d done to her okay, to make it sound almost like the right choice.

And it was…wasn’t it? What did that even mean—the right choice? Who decided what was right? The universe? Jason? He’d known that question once with a certainty that seemed almost naive and childlike after the accident. He did what he wanted and didn’t give a damn about anyone else.

Robin had showed him the value of caring about others, and loving Michael had taught Jason how to sacrifice his own needs for the needs of others. But sometimes Jason wondered if he’d taken it too far.

If he’d spent so much time shoving down what he wanted that he no longer knew how to recognize the feeling anymore?

He twisted the knob, stepped inside, and Courtney immediately popped off the sofa, her features creased with anxiety. “You came back.”

“You didn’t think I would?” Jason asked, dropping his keys on the desk.

“You said you were going to talk to Elizabeth,” she said. She looked pointedly at the window where the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. “That was hours ago.”

“I had wait until she finished working,” Jason said, irritated with Courtney for pressing the subject and with himself for ever walking into Kelly’s and thinking that he could tell Elizabeth over the counter that he’d made a choice. He  hadn’t thought about her at all, Jason realized. Only himself, and wanting to be done with it.

A selfish act, and a reminder why he couldn’t act that way anymore. Acting on impulse only got you in trouble and hurt other people.

“Six hours?”

“After I talked to her—” After Elizabeth had looked at him those shattered eyes, silently begging him to make a different choice even when her mouth told him the opposite. What if she’d really said it? What if she’d actually begged him to stay?

He’d still be there, Jason thought, and man, that didn’t sit right with him. None of this did. He dragged a hand down his face. “After I talked to her, I needed a ride. Can that be enough? I told you I was sorry.” When she flinched, looked away, he sighed. He was the bad guy here. The man who’d proposed marriage, then slept with another woman. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It just…it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be. I just thought maybe you’d see her, and you’d change your mind again. But you didn’t. That’s good.” She smiled, but it looked pained. “We’ll…we’ll work on things, right? We were unhappy for a little while, but we’ll just find that feeling again.”

“Right.” That was the plan. “Did you want to do something for dinner?”

“Oh, Carly came by. She wanted to have us over for dinner. An apology,” Courtney added. “For always dragging us into their fights. I think it’d be good. You know, all of us. A family night. Just us.”

“Just us,” Jason repeated. Just the family. “Sure. That’s fine.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth stifled a yawn, then flipped the closed sign to open before returning to the counter. “You ready, DJ?”

“Ready for an hour of toast, bagels, and coffee,” the cook muttered. She could hear him scraping on the grill. “Real challenging work.”

“You’ll miss this quiet time when the rush starts,” Elizabeth said, leaning over the counter, smiling. “You always complain about the quiet time, the rush, and everything in between.  I’ve missed this, DJ.”

“We missed you, too, Lizzie. Not the same without you. You and me, the last of Ruby’s people. Once we go, who’s gonna keep this place going?”

He’d meant it as a compliment and she smiled at him, but man, she did not like the reminder of how long she’d been here. Kelly’s had been a quick job to pay off her debts when she’d moved here. She’d used all of her year’s allowance on a first-class, one way ticket. She smiled at the memory, moving to the counter to organize her sidework. What a crazy kid she’d been — never thinking ahead, figuring tomorrow would take care of itself.

What would she tell little annoying Lizzie Webber if she could talk to her younger self? The list was endless, but mostly she hoped she’d tell that love-starved girl that not all affection was real, and not to trust anyone who made you the center of their world.

The bell jingled, and Elizabeth raised her eyes to find Ric Lansing stepping into the diner, a broad smile stretching across his handsome face. Her hands stilled. It was the first time she’d seen her estranged husband in nearly a month, and she was hoping to keep it that way.

“The rumors are true. You’re back at Kelly’s.” Ric slid onto the stool, tipped over his cup. “You remember how I take it, don’t you?”

“I remember everything, Ric,” Elizabeth said, turning to the carafe and tipping it so that the hot liquid poured into the cup. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, coffee will do for now. I was sorry that you’d contacted the gallery and cancelled. You didn’t have to do it—”

“I didn’t have time to finish the paintings,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Recovering from a pulmonary embolism took time and money I didn’t really have.” She lifted her brows. “You know, the doctors don’t know what caused it. I didn’t have any of the risk factors.”

“Medicine, such a mystery.”

“A real mystery,” she said. She was cold, little icicles pricking at the surface of her skin. “They told me it could have been the birth control pills I was taking. But when I told them I wasn’t on any birth control, well, they were stumped.” Elizabeth set the carafe on the hot plate and looked at Ric who had the audacity to stare at her with that blank, curious stare. “We’re not friends, Ric. We’re not amicable exes. You can refuse to sign the papers all you want. No judge in their right mind is going to stall a divorce where I’m not taking anything from you.”

“You believed in me once, Elizabeth. Even in the face of everyone telling you differently—” Ric leaned in, his eyes earnest. Sincere. “You know me. Better than anyone—”

“I do know you better than anyone. Which is why all I want is to be done with you. Make it as difficult or as painful as you want. I don’t care. I don’t care why you did it, how you’re getting away with it— I just want you forget you ever existed—”

“But you won’t be able to forget me, Elizabeth, or what we shared. It was real—”

“A real nightmare that I am ending. I have ended it. Now drink your coffee and go.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Office

Sonny paced the length of his office, stroking his chin. “You talked to Benny’s brother, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I made contact this morning. He’s up for taking over Benny’s spot,” Jason said. “I’ll set him up in the office, get him what he needs, and we won’t have to worry about that.”

“Good. I want to turn my attention where it belongs. Lorenzo Alcazar.” Sonny gritted his teeth. “He’s not making a single move I could call aggressive.”

“Just at the hotel, like a tourist.” Jason gripped the back of the desk hair. “He’s got the same layers covering him his brother did. The feds need his contacts with the arms operation, so our hands are tied on that.”

“But why is he still here? I didn’t kill his damn brother,” Sonny muttered. He rubbed his chest. “He’s waiting for something.”

Jason grimaced because he knew where this was going, and he didn’t want to deal with it. Two straight weeks of talking his partner off the ledge about Lorenzo Alcazar hadn’t changed anything. Sonny could and would let every little thing lead him astray, and Jason had to drag him back.

How many hours of his life had he lost to this debacle? Sometimes Jason missed not being in Port Charles. Walking around some foreign city where no one knew him. Where no one could call him. And lately —

Even before that night, even before all that was wrong with Emily, Jason had found himself wondering if he could just get on his bike and leave again. There was nothing holding him here other than Sonny’s family. And Emily.

And Elizabeth.

She’d always kept him tied to Port Charles — every time he left, he thought about her. What she’d say about the buildings he saw, and the museums he’d gone to. He’d had to work very hard to wrap her up, put her inside a box, and lock her away. She’d made it clear last year, Jason thought, that she didn’t want him.

And he’d suceeded. He’d put it away. He’d stopped thinking about her.

Until she’d sat next to him, and she’d started to cry, and he’d had to touch her and it had all come flooding back, and now he didn’t know how to turn it off again. How had he done it before?

“Jason?”

Jason blinked, looked at Sonny, cleared his throat. “What?”

“You tuned out.” Sonny frowned. “You never do that. You focus. That’s your talent. What’s going on? Did—did something happen with Emily? If you need to be at the hospital—”

“No. She’s still—she’s fine. Recovering. Restarting chemo in another week,” Jason said. “I’m fine. I just—I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not for days. Weeks. Months. Not since Carly had disappeared from the church yard.

“Yeah? What’s up? If it’s about Ric, believe me. I’m there.” Sonny grimaced. “I don’t know what the hell he pulled at the DA’s office — we had him dead to rights. Elizabeth, you know, she really came through. I didn’t know if she would—”

“She saw the panic room for herself,” Jason said, remembering that awful day when he’d gone to see her in the hospital, when she’d flatlined, and he’d thought she was dead. How angry she’d been when she thought Jason had killed Ric—how angry she’d been at him for months—and how furious he‘d been with her for not believing him in the first place. “She couldn’t talk herself out of it anymore,” he murmured. “She’s good at that. Talking in circles until she can accept whatever reality she’s trying to hold on to.”

Sonny studied him. “Yeah, I guess she did that enough with Lucky. You’d have to stay as long as she did. Made herself miserable. But she stood up. Gave that statement. And then Ric just…” He looked out the window over the dockyard. “Skated. Now he’s working for the law. None of it makes any damn sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. I know—I know he’s your brother—”

“Brother,” Sonny muttered. “He has my mother’s eyes. Shares her blood. That doesn’t make him my brother. It just makes him an abomination.” He looked at Jason. “Is that what’s eating at you? Now that we’re back in Port Charles. Now that Carly’s safe?”

Ric walking around free instead of being six feet under, it definitely bothered him. And it was easy to just nod, to take the excuse Sonny had handed him. Because, no, Ric’s continued relationship with oxygen hadn’t been particularly nagging at Jason, but now that Sonny had brought up the topic, it gave him somewhere to put his frustration.

“Yeah,” Jason said finally. “I don’t like it. For what he did to Carly. And whatever he did to Elizabeth,” he added as an afterthought. “I don’t know how she ended up in the hospital, but it was him.”

“Probably, yeah. She had a lot of medical issues as soon as they met. Christ.” Sonny dragged a hand down his face, then flexed his hand, almost as if he was missing the usual tumbler of liquor. “Well,  you know, what I don’t know, won’t hurt me.”

Jason lifted his brows at this quiet acquiescence. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. And if it’s going to eat at you, you might as well handle it. But I don’t want to know,” Sonny told him.

He felt oddly guilty letting Sonny think Ric was the problem lurking in Jason’s head, but that was easier than telling Sonny, the same man who’d fired Jason over the relationship with Courtney, that he’d slept with Elizabeth.

Sonny would think he’d lost his mind, and Jason wasn’t really sure what side Sonny would fall on, and he wasn’t in a hurry to find out. Not when Sonny’s good days were starting to outnumber the bad. Maybe one day, when it was all behind them, Jason could talk to him about it. Sonny might even understand. He’d walked away from Brenda, hadn’t he? He knew what it meant to walk away from the woman you loved while she had tears in her eyes.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll get Bernie set up, and make sure we can get eyes on Alcazar. He’s waiting for something, and I don’t want to be the last to find out what.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen with a tray of orders, stopping for just a moment when she realized the last empty table in her section had been occupied by Courtney and Carly. The blondes were talking, and Michael was coloring at his chair, oblivious.

She took a deep breath, continued to her original destination, delivering to a trio of dockworkers, then pulled out her order pad and approached the table.

“Can I get you guys started with some drinks?” Elizabeth asked. Courtney looked up at her, then raised her hand, rested it on her chin. Her left hand, the diamond winking in the light.

“Mmm, I’m in the mood for a milkshake. Strawberry,” Courtney said. “Carly?”

“Oh, just iced tea for me. Dairy makes me—” Carly made a face. “I didn’t know you were back. Mama didn’t say.”

“Yeah, well, have to pay the bills. Divorce lawyers aren’t cheap.” Elizabeth scribbled their orders. “Anything for Michael?”

“Chocolate milk. And we’re ready to order,” Carly said, before reeling off her usual and something for Michael.

“I’ll have chili. Elizabeth, you need to settle a debate for us,” Courtney said. She straightened, let her hand drop to the table, but left it flat so that the ring was still visible. “Carly thinks an outdoor wedding in October is asking for trouble—”

“Without a backup,” Carly said. “Have a venue on standby—”

“But I think it would be romantic,” Courtney said, looking directly at Elizabeth. “For Jason and I to get married outside, on the anniversary of our first kiss. October 19. And I think it’s worth the risk, don’t you?”

Elizabeth tucked her pencil back in her apron. “I think Carly’s right. You should have something on standby. You’ve only had one fall in upstate New York. The storms off the lake are no joke.”

“See, when Elizabeth and I agree on something, you know it’s probably right. I don’t think we’ve agreed since—” Carly frowned. “Have we ever?”

“We agree that I make good brownies,” Elizabeth said softly, and the blonde hesitated. “I made them for you last year. When you were grieving. I’ll go put in your orders.”

She left the pair at the table, her heart pounding. She went behind the counter, ripped the order off her pad and slid across to DJ. She just needed a minute. Just one.

She wasn’t on the verge of years, Elizabeth was relieved to realize. Or even angry that the pair had come in to stake their claim. Courtney had obviously not told Carly anything — no way the blonde wouldn’t have said something. But she’d brought Carly to talk about the wedding, and she’d flashed her ring as if Elizabeth could forget.

It was just….sad. For all of them. Jason had made his choice, and Elizabeth knew that he’d made the only one he’d be able to live with. But she wondered if Jason knew what Courtney obviously did.

That making the choice to stay was only the first step. The easiest.

Now it came the hard part — actually staying. And meaning it. Being happy.

And while Elizabeth truly did wish Jason well — well, she wouldn’t be human if there wasn’t just the smallest piece of her soul rooting for failure. If she didn’t hope that Jason looked at the life he’d built with Courtney, and wonder…what could have been.

But she wouldn’t sit around and wait for him. She’d get on with her life — and her job.

“Order’s up,” DJ called, and Elizabeth got back to work.

+37

Written in 61 minutes.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey, you.” Carly rose from the dining table by the windows, bracing one hand against her lower back, struggling with gravity. Jason hurried over to help, but she waved him off. “I’ve got it. Thanks. It’s nice to see you when, well—” She cleared her throat, went over to the beverage bar. “Did you eat yet? Coffee?”

“I’m good. I just—” Jason folded his arms. “I wanted to check on you. When Sonny wasn’t around.”

Her hand stilled as she poured a glass of orange juice, then she looked at him with a sad smile. “Why? Do you think I won’t tell the truth if he’s here?”

“I think,” he said carefully, “that you and I walk a careful line when he’s like this. And you’re a little bit more in the line of fire than I am. You’ve been through a lot with this pregnancy, Carly. I just want to get you to the finish line in one piece.”

“You’re too good to me. Really, I mean that, Jase. You’ve turned your whole life upside down for…” She tipped her head, her dark eyes studying him. “Longer than I think I’ve given you credit for. Right now, today, Sonny and I are okay. He’s managing his—God, he’d hate me for saying it—his paranoia or anxiety or whatever about Lorenzo. And that’s because of you. I know that.”

“I just remind him what he already knows Carly. When he’s clear-headed, he knows better,” Jason assured her. “It’s just—”

“There’s no warning when that fog descends. I know you hate being in the middle, but lately, I guess it just feels like we can’t function without you.”

Jason tried not to grimace at that, but he wasn’t able to keep his expression blank. Carly smiled thinly. “You hate that. We’re adults, and we should do this without you, I know it. I’m going to do better, Jase. I told Max not to come get you the next time—”

“I don’t—” He stopped. Because he did mind, and she knew it. “He’ll get past this. He always does.”

“Well, until then, I’m going to return the favor you’ve done for me by focusing entirely on you,” Carly declared.

“Why did all the hairs on the back of my neck just stand up?” Jason asked, and she laughed, heading for the sofa, straightening the throw pillows. “Don’t worry about me, Carly. I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re not really needed for this part anyway. Don’t worry—Courtney and I have it already in hand. I’ve almost got her talked into a backup venue — though Elizabeth agreeing almost made me change my mind—”

Jason frowned at her. “What? Venue? Elizabeth? What are you talking about?”

“The wedding.” Carly squinted at him. “Jase, I know guys aren’t really into this kind of thing, but five weeks isn’t a lot of time. You’re going to have do some things—”

“There’s no wedding,” Jason cut in sharply, and Carly closed her mouth, looked at him, baffled. “We didn’t set a new date.”

“You—Courtney said next month. October 19. Anniversary of your first kiss—though that threw me,” she admitted. “I didn’t realize how soon that all was, but whatever. It all worked out I guess. You don’t have to worry, Jase. Just put the tux on and show up—”

“We didn’t set a new date,” Jason repeated, and this time his voice had an edge that he didn’t even recognize.

“Okay. Message received. No wedding. But you should probably make sure Courtney knows that.” She folded her arms. “Is…there something wrong? I know you’d rather gnaw your arm off than tell me anything, but you can trust me.”

He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. He and Carly had settled into friendship, sure, but she’d attached herself to Courtney. And her hatred of Elizabeth had never ebbed for a second. Carly was the last person he could ever talk to about this.

“It’s fine. I just don’t want you going around telling people something that isn’t happening.” People like Elizabeth—did she think they’d set another date for the wedding? Barely a week after—

He swallowed hard. “I have to go,” he muttered, then left, leaving Carly staring at him, bewildered.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Nikolas watched as Ric left, then turned back to raise his brows at Elizabeth. “Now, I know I’m not exactly a regular here,” he said, “but I’ve been here three or four times the last week. And he’s been here every time.”

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, then picked up the dishes Ric had left behind. He always sat at the counter so she’d be forced to serve him. “Every day since I started the opening shift last week. It’s like…it’s like he knows when I’m working.”

“Tell Mike. You know he’ll switch you,” Nikolas said.

“I don’t want to make any waves.” And she didn’t want another shift. Jason never came in between opening and early lunch rush. Courtney did, though. Every day for the last week. Flashing that ring. Talking about the wedding. Making sure Elizabeth could hear her.

Elizabeth didn’t know if Courtney just wanted to rub it in or hoped that Elizabeth would say something, and Courtney could make a scene — but Elizabeth wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. If Jason had already agreed to set a date next month, well—that was his decision. His choice. And Elizabeth was the other woman — she didn’t get to be angry about it.

And she wasn’t going to compound her own misery by letting Courtney know any of it bothered her.

“I get that, Liz,” Nikolas said, when Elizabeth returned from checking on her customers. “But you have to stick up for yourself—”

“Do I? Because usually that’s your cue to tell me to worry about Lucky and his precious feelings.” The words were snapped out with more irritation than she actually felt and Nikolas sighed, looked away. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help—”

“But you don’t exactly need me to tell you what to do or how to feel,” Nikolas said. “Don’t apologize for the truth, Liz. I like it better when you don’t pretend.”

“Well, then listen to me when I tell you that I don’t want to bother Mike with this—”

“With what?” Mike asked, emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “How’s my best waitress?” he asked with a friendly smile.

“Enjoying the quiet before the rush,” Elizabeth said, sending Nikolas a death glare. He studied her for a long moment, then shook his head.

“Ric’s harassing Elizabeth on her shift—”

“Oh, you son of a—” Elizabeth bit out the last words. “What the hell, Nikolas?”

“I thought about it, and I decided that I’m okay with you being mad at me if it means Ric leaves you alone. Unless you’re thinking of a reconciliation,” Nikolas said, lifting his brows.

“No, but—”

“Then he doesn’t need to be in here every morning bothering you. I listened to you, Elizabeth, and all I heard was you not asking for what you need because you don’t want to bother people.” He dismissed her, looked at Mike. “She needs to switch shifts. Maybe a busier one when there’s more people around and he can’t corner her.”

“Did I hire you as a personal assistant or something? Don’t you have a job? A business?” Elizabeth demanded.

Mike stroked his chin. “We need someone on the post-dinner rush, closing shift, but I don’t know if that’s good—”

It was a horrible choice. That was Jason’s favorite time to come in these days, and she’d done her best to avoid him like the plague for the last year. And he’d obliged by staying away from the morning. She didn’t even realize they’d had that little unspoken agreement until right now.  “I told you, Mike, I don’t want to bother you—”

“It’s not a bother, honey. I know the damage Ric can do, and I don’t want you to worry about him. Why don’t I call Michael? He and Jason—”

“The closing shift is fine,” Elizabeth interrupted, and Nikolas furrowed his brow. “There’s always someone who lingers until we close. It’ll be fine, Mike. Thanks.”

“All right. If you’re sure. You say the word, and I’ll make that call—”

“I’ll remember that.”

Mike went back into the kitchen, and Elizabeth glared at Nikolas. “I liked you better when you were up Gia’s ass. Why don’t you go crawl back up there and butt out?”

“You’re complaining but you know you’re relieved not to deal with Ric tomorrow,” Nikolas said. He held out his cup. “I’ll have a refill.”

“You’re lucky I don’t pour this over your damned head.”

General Hospital: Treatment Room

There were a cluster of treatment chairs in the room, each with their own little cubicle and IV stands. Emily sat in one, her hair pulled back in a low tail, still pale, but her eyes were alert.

“Want one?” she asked, showing him the cherry red Popsicle she held in her hand. “It’s the one perk of chemo.”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He studied her for a long moment. “You look better.”

“Well, still dying, but not nearly dead anymore. Big step up. Don’t make that face,” Emily ordered, when he flinched. “We tell the truth, you and me. That’s our thing. I almost died.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Em. I just…don’t like remembering that…”

“That it’s not over. But I woke up that day and all the rest of them for the last—” she furrowed her brow. “What’s today?”

“September 15,” Jason told her.

“So I made it twelve more days. That’s a victory, Jase. Let me have it.”

“I will.”

“Okay, now that I’ve done my cancer bit, it’s your turn to distract me. And you need to do a better job than Elizabeth,” Emily said. “She’s been taking the afternoon shifts, you know, because she’s back at Kelly’s. Hey, you know how in the Renaissance, artists had, like, patrons?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. “What are we talking about?”

“Elizabeth being back at Kelly’s. Ric got her this art show, but it was just a way to keep her busy while he—well, you know. Anyway, she had to cancel it because—again, you know. I was thinking, could I just pay her to sit and do her art? Like all those famous artists used to do?”

He rubbed his forehead. “What does this have to do with her at Kelly’s?”

“She works too much. And never has time or energy for the art. She’s a good artist. Probably an excellent one, but I don’t know anything. I’ve been thinking since I basically died, that in my next life — which is this one — I’m going to be a better person and think about other people more.”

“You’re a good person—”

“Debatable, but you’re my brother and legally obligated to say that.” She licked her Popsicle, her brow furrowed in thought. “Are you and Elizabeth still not friends? Like, I know things were weird because you broke up with her for Courtney—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“And then there was the Ric thing—which I don’t understand but I guess I’ll have to dig into that when I get out of the hospital—but other than that, is there a reason you’re not friends like you used to be?”

Jason was getting a headache trying to keep up with his sister’s rapid-pace conversation. “Where did all this energy come from?”

“Sugar rush. I’ve been sucking on these things like, well, like candy. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not talking about Elizabeth. Or why—I’m not talking about it,” Jason said firmly.

She frowned at him, then nodded. “Okay, then let’s talk about you. You know, Courtney came to see me yesterday during chemo. I’m glad you guys set the date again. But I don’t know if I’m up to being a bridesmaid by the 19th—”

“She came yesterday?” Jason asked. After he’d talked to Carly, and told Courtney that he wasn’t comfortable setting another date so soon. She’d seemed to understand that. And then she’d immediately gone to Emily and talked about it anyway.

Christ, did she think she could just plan the wedding anyway, shove a tux in front of him and he’d just…go through with it?

“Yes,” Emily drawled, “why?”

“I’m not getting married next month. Or any other month,” Jason said, then winced. “I mean, we didn’t set—”

“Oh, the cat is out of the bag. Don’t try to put it back in. You ever try to put a cat somewhere it doesn’t want to be? Impossible. I heard it. You don’t want to get married anymore?”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Well, damn.” She looked disappointed. “You won’t talk to me about Elizabeth. Or your wedding. That’s a lot of topics not to cover. Unless they’re the same topic.” She grinned at him when he just shook his head. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”

“Eat your Popsicle.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

He couldn’t shake the conversation with Emily, or the grim realization that Courtney had listened to every word he’d said and just done whatever she wanted to do anyway. Carly had just said all he’d have to do was show up—

And what if they just planned it more quietly? What if he did wake up on October 19 and there was a note and a tux, and people were just waiting on him’? What was he going to do? Jilt her at the altar? Was that what Courtney was banking on?

When he came back to the penthouse after the visit, Courtney jerked to her feet, shoving magazines into a pile, but he saw a wedding dress on one of them. He exhaled slowly.

“You didn’t listen to anything I said the other day, did you?” Jason asked. Courtney frowned, shook her head. “The wedding. I told you I’m not setting a date.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. You’re telling people we’re getting married in a month. That’s not happening, Courtney.”

Her mouth was thin. “Well, I can’t believe she waited this long, but I knew she’d crack eventually. What, did Elizabeth come running after I was at Kelly’s yesterday?”

“I haven’t seen Elizabeth in more than a week,” Jason said. “I went to Emily’s chemo appointment today.” She winced, looked away. “You forgot you asked my sister to be a bridesmaid?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure about her chemo — maybe she couldn’t—”

“She can’t but it doesn’t matter. Because we are not getting married on October 19,” Jason said, drawing out each word not even bothered when she flinched in response each time. “Don’t try to make this my fault. I told you this. And you just ignored me.”

“You said you were staying—” Her eyes filled with tears, but he just shook his head. “You said you wanted to get back to where we were—”

“I said that I wasn’t going to throw out everything we’ve been through for this last year, Courtney, not that I wanted to go forward like nothing happened,” Jason interrupted, and she closed her mouth, looked at her hands. “If you want to set a date, if it matters that much to you, then go ahead and set it for never. Because that’s how I feel right now—”

“You don’t get to be angry with me!” she exploded, her head snapping back up, the tears gone. “You slept with another woman!”

“And you said you forgave me, or was that a lie?” he demanded. “What are we doing here? You wanted to give it another chance. And I agreed. Because it’s been almost a year, and that should matter. But you don’t get to have it both ways. You don’t get to tell me you want to work on this and then throw it in my face every time I don’t give you what you want. I don’t know if this is going to work, Courtney, so why would we plan a wedding that isn’t going to happen?”

Courtney swallowed hard. “You think you made a mistake. You’re sorry you picked me.” Her voice was quiet now, and the tears were back, but he wasn’t moved this time.

“What do you want me to do, Courtney? Marry you to prove a point? I’m not going to do that. If you think you can just point me in whatever direction you want me to go, then I don’t know what we’re doing here. I’m trying to work on this. I’m trying to tell you how I feel, and you’re not hearing me.”

“I do—I do hear you, okay? Okay? I do. You don’t want to get married right now. Okay.” Courtney took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just — Carly brought it up and I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her, right? Because she’d make it a whole thing, and I don’t want anyone to know. And she seemed so excited about planning it, I just got carried away. And maybe I thought—God, I just thought if I pretended things were okay, they would be okay. But you’re right. You’re right. We’re not ready to do that. I’m sorry,” she said again. She gathered up the magazine and darted for the stairs before he could say another word.

Jason grimaced, dragged his hands down his face. She’d done it for Carly. Of course. It always came back to Sonny or Carly for them, didn’t it?

He snatched his keys back from the desk and headed for the door. He needed to get out.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth bussed the last few tables, checked on her two remaining customers, then went to the kitchen to drop off the tubs.

“Almost done, aren’t we?” Don, the night cook, asked. He wiped down the grill. “If they order anything else, you shoot them.”

“They’re just finishing up,” Elizabeth assured him. “But don’t worry. If I see them thinking about more fries, I’ll get the paintball gun.” She heard the bells over the door and grimaced. “Please let one of them have left—”

She went back into the dining room, then stopped. So did her new customer.

Because Jason stood there, his hand still on the handle of the door, their eyes meeting.

She didn’t know how long they stared at one another—probably too long, she thought — but finally he came in, letting the door fall closed. He made his way to the counter and took a seat.

+39

Written in 75 minutes. Sorry. Ran over.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Jason flipped the white ceramic cup over, resting it right side up on the matching saucer. “Can I—”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Elizabeth cleared her throat, went to the hot plate. “There should be enough for another cup. Unless—I could brew it fresh. I don’t know how long it’s been sitting—”

“I know you’re getting ready to close. Whatever’s in the pot is fine.”

So careful with each other, not making eye contact now, she thought. She lifted the carafe, brought it over to the counter. There was just enough to fill the cup.

Behind him, one of the two final customers tossed some money on the table, and Elizabeth grabbed the green tub. She busied herself bussing the table, and then the last customer, as if realizing the time, decided to take their milkshake in a to go cup.

Within a few minutes, it was just the cook in the back, Elizabeth, and Jason — pretending to drink his coffee. She bit her lip, watched him keep his eyes on the counter, then went into the kitchen. “Hey, Don. Why don’t you finish clearing down and head home? I can close. It’s just Jason, and you know he’s good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Trust me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She returned to the dining room, went behind the counter. “Did you come here for a reason or is this just an accident?”

Jason lifted his head finally, looked at her. “Both,” he said finally. His voice sounded a bit rusty. He straightened, rubbed his throat. “I came here because I needed to get out. And I thought you were working the opening shift.”

“I switched to closing. Needed a change.” From the kitchen, Don called out his goodbye, and she heard the back door open, then close.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed—” Jason reached for his wallet, but she  held up her hand.

“It’s three-hour old coffee and you didn’t even touch it. I think we can spot you this one time.”

He exhaled slowly, then brought his hand back to the counter. “Then let me help you close up.”

“I’m not going to turn that down,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll clean the tables, you put the chairs up?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jason slid off the stool, and she went into the kitchen to get the rag to wipe down the tables.

They made quick work of most of the room, until there were only two tables left. Jason turned the wrong way and they crashed into each other. He brought his hands up to her shoulders to steady her, then just left them there a moment too long. Snatched them back.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing,” she said abruptly. Then sighed. She sat down at one of the tables they hadn’t cleaned yet. “Stop apologizing,” Elizabeth said, looking up at him. “You get to come in for coffee, okay? And it’s not like you grabbed me or—we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Jason sat in the other chair, picked up a leftover straw wrapper, began to shred it into smaller pieces. “I’m doing everything wrong,” he muttered more to himself. “I’m hurting everyone and I don’t even know if I’m doing the right thing.”

“The right thing,” Elizabeth echoed. She smiled faintly. “What does that even mean? Who decides it?”

Now he smiled, and it looked almost genuine. “I was asking myself that question a few days ago. I wish I knew.” He looked past her, towards the brick wall behind the tables. “I know Courtney was in here yesterday. If she said something about a wedding, it’s not happening.”

“Jason, you don’t owe me any explanations—”

“Yeah, I do. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.” He rested one arm on the table, and with the other hand pushed around the little pile of shredded straw paper he’d created. “But I know that I don’t get to—I don’t get to do what I did last week, say the things I did, and then let you walk around thinking I’m getting married anyway like none of it mattered.”

She let those words settle inside of her, soothing her. “I’d be lying if I told you that…I don’t know. If it’s not like hearing her talk about it made me cry myself to sleep or anything. I knew you were engaged. People generally get married when they’re engaged. Most of the time anyway. And plenty of people get married after they have affairs.”

His mouth tightened, but he didn’t argue with the label. He couldn’t.  “Well, I’m not. I told her that. She was telling you, asking Emily to be the bridesmaid, planning it with Carly—to make Carly happy,” he said almost bitterly. “I told her no, and she didn’t—” Jason broke off, shook his head. “This isn’t what I came here to do. I just…I need to get out.” He looked back at her. “I don’t know what I’m doing. How am I supposed to go back to what I was doing before? Pretend it didn’t happen? But—”

“But there’s that whole other part where you were happy with her, and you have a right, Jason, to make sure you’re not just…hitting a bump in the road.” Elizabeth picked at the ragged edge of her nail. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here either. There’s not a handbook for being the other woman—”

“You’re not—”

“I am,” she said gently, and he just shook his head. “Two years ago, Jason, you were the other guy, and I was sitting on your side of the table. Neither of us particularly wanted to be in that position. And I’m trying—” Her voice trembled just a little. “I’m trying to be the friend you were to me. It’s harder than I thought it would be, you know? How did you do it? How did you always put me first when I was hurting you?”

“You were hurting yourself more,” Jason said, his eyes gentle. “I always knew that.”

“But you never pressured me. You’d argue, but you’d stop when you realized I was like a brick wall, and I never ever felt like you were pushing me to make a choice. Or make a change. I knew you were disappointed, hurt, but I never felt like you were giving me ultimatums—” The corner of her mouth curved up. “Maybe you can give me some tips. How do I be that person for you?”

“I knew you were getting it enough pressure from everyone else,” Jason said. “Everyone wanted you to be something different, and you were being pulled in so many different directions. I didn’t want to be one more person you had to make happy. I didn’t want to be the reason you were hurting.”

Pulled in so many directions. She tipped her head. “It’s kind of crazy how we’re sitting here in exactly the same place now. I don’t want to be someone you have to take care of, Jason. Whose feelings you have to manage. I want to be your friend. The rest of it—everything else, I don’t know. I guess we missed our moment, and I’ll live with that regret for the rest of my life—I made so many wrong turns. You need to know I regret how I left last year. The things I said that night, and God—” She winced. “Defending Ric — it was just a parade of absolutely terrible decisions—”

“It’s not like I was much better,” Jason said, and she frowned. “I married Brenda three weeks after you walked out the door,” he told her. “That was pretty stupid.”

“I know you stayed married later because of the trial, but—” She furrowed her brow. “Why did you do it in the first place? Did—I mean, you went all the way to Vegas, so it couldn’t have been a drunken impulse?”

“At least that might have made sense.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “She wanted someone to take care of her when her disease took over. And she said if I didn’t, she’d break up Sonny and Carly’s marriage. I knew if anyone could, it’d be Brenda. I needed Sonny focused with Alcazar in the picture, so…I did it.”

Her throat tightened. “Why is it your job to save their marriage?” she asked softly.

Jason didn’t answer for a long moment, and she thought maybe he wouldn’t. But finally, his eyes on the table, he did. “I don’t know. It wasn’t always like this. I didn’t…I wasn’t like this before. I had a life of my own.”

“Do you have one now?” she asked.

—

Wasn’t that the question of the day? Did he have a life of his own now? Jason focused all his attention on the paper shreds he’d continued to rip apart until they couldn’t be divided anymore.

“I don’t know,” Jason said finally. “When you left,” he said, then looked up at her. “You told me that I was Sonny’s enforcer. First, last, and —”

“Always,” she finished. “I regret that—”

“You said you hoped it would be enough,” Jason cut in. “I didn’t want to believe that you were right. It hadn’t been true before, you know. I’d—I’d made time for you before. And for Emily, and my grandmother. I had Robin and Michael. My life was mine. I worked hard to have control of it. I didn’t blindly follow Sonny’s orders. Ever.”

“I’m sorry—”

“But I followed that order,” Jason interrupted again, “and you were leaving. And I wanted it not to be true, but then Brenda happened, and I knew that was for Sonny and Carly. I justified it in my head as trying to keep him focused on Alcazar, but it wasn’t just that. And then, you know, Courtney happened. I don’t know how or why, really.” He rubbed his forehead. “It came out nowhere. Maybe we were lonely, and it wasn’t complicated. She didn’t ask for a lot. Or argue. Or—”  He broke off, looked at Elizabeth again. “I know how that sounds. That I started things with her because she was easy. But it’s the truth, and I’m not going to lie to you.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I don’t even know if it was going to go anywhere,” he continued, because now the words were there, and they were pouring out of him. “Sonny found out and he said—he told me it had to be over. He ordered me to break up with her—and I just—if I did that, if I did that, even if I wanted to, well, you’d be right. I’d be just blindly following orders. And I refused, and then it just kept getting away from me. Every time I turned around, it was one more thing. It never seemed to stop. Ric was there, things were out of control. He hurt Carly, and went after Courtney, and then we found out he was Sonny’s brother, and then there was a moment to breathe, but Carly said you know, maybe I should marry Courtney because she’d been through so much and she’d stuck with me, and she made me happy, and she fit—so I went and I bought a ring, and I asked her, and then it was planned, and then Carly was kidnapped. It just…it never stopped.”

But now he  was stopping, and he finally looked at Elizabeth, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry. That’s—that’s not what you asked.”

“I don’t even remember the question. But I get it, Jason. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, making decisions in the minute, and not thinking about the big picture, and then you look up one day, and the world around you has changed and you didn’t even see it coming. The Cassadine stuff — that felt like that,” she told him. “I wasn’t really doing that great after I backed out of the Face of Deception. You’d left, and I thought — well I’d picked Lucky, so I had throw my whole self into it, and he proposed, and I said yes, and then the brainwashing was back, and God it was so bad. The next thing I knew, Nikolas was explaining why I had to fake my death, so I did it, and then I was standing at the altar and Lucky didn’t love me anymore. There was this car accident, and Lucky and Sarah were lying to me—and I just woke up and I realized I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know who I wanted to be. And I didn’t start making better choices,” Elizabeth added almost ruefully. “We don’t have to talk about how stupid Zander was. I didn’t want to take orders from anyone ever again, so I picked the absolute dumbest hill to die on, and I didn’t trust you enough, and Ric—” She looked away, towards the front of the diner, her eyes distant. “I got out of the hospital and I realized I’d burned my life to the ground and I didn’t really know what was left.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment — the words had simply flowed the way they always had. He’d always been able to talk to her, and it seemed insane that it was still true.

“I have Emily, and Nikolas, I guess,” Elizabeth said. Their eyes met. “But I don’t get to keep you now. Because of what we did.”

He wanted to argue with her. That they could still be friends. They’d managed it two years ago, hadn’t they? But two years ago, he hadn’t kissed her. This time, they’d gone too far over that line to go back.

“I know I shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be having this conversation,” Jason said slowly. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t owe you reassurance that I’m not marrying Courtney in a month. I just—I’m trying really hard not to hurt anyone, but I’m hurting everybody, and I don’t know how to stop. If I do what I want—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “Everything falls apart. And if I do what’s right—” he stopped. He didn’t want to finish that sentence, even though leaving the words unspoken didn’t leave them any less unformed in his mind.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she said. “Because you’re the one that has to live with your choice. It used to drive me crazy, you know, that you didn’t kiss me two years ago.” She rested her hand on her fist, smiled. “I thought, God, if you’d just leaned in a little bit, and kissed me, I could have kissed you back, and it would have been so different. But you couldn’t. It had to be my choice. Because it was my world that would be broken by it. And if I couldn’t make that choice—it wouldn’t have made it any easier if you’d pushed me over the edge.”

“It wasn’t exactly easy,” Jason said, and her smile deepened. “I wanted to. But I knew I wasn’t staying in Port Charles. If I kissed you, forced you to really see what was there, the only way to do it—you’d have to go with me. I tried, but, well, I knew you’d say no.”

“What happens,” she asked, softly, “if you do what you want? What falls apart?” Their eyes held for a moment, and he didn’t answer right away. Because maybe they both understood that what he wanted was her.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “It’s the not knowing that’s…stopping me. But there’s…I don’t want Sonny and Carly to be the first thing I think about when I wake up,” he said suddenly. “Did they get into a fight since I spoke to them? Is Sonny going to have a good day? Is Michael going to keep being put in the middle? How many times am I going to find him curled up in a ball, pretending he doesn’t hear them screaming at each other?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And there it is. Michael. That’s why you don’t let Sonny and Carly destroy each other. Because you still love him the way you did when he was a baby. Like a father. You’ve put him first. You want to protect his world. Make sure nothing can hurt him until he’s old enough, strong enough to defend himself.”

Jason shook his head. “Michael’s not my son. I know that—”

“Oh, okay, well, then I’m glad you cleared that up. I guess you can stop loving him then. Is that how it works?”

“No. No, it’s not.” His phone rang  and he pulled it out, looked at the screen. Courtney. He grimaced, pressed the button to silence it, the left it on the table.

“If you’re the only thing keeping Sonny and Carly together, is that any kind of life for any of them?” she asked. “Are you actually doing them any favors patching them up for the next time?”

“No. But it’s not just—” Jason made a face. “Sonny isn’t just Sonny. He’s Sonny Corinthos. He’s been…not doing well,” he said finally because he’d never told Elizabeth about the darkness that swirled inside of Sonny. The rages, the blackouts. And he didn’t want to burden her with that. “When he’s like this, he’s unfocused. He’s been like this off and on since last year with Luis Alcazar, then Ric, and now Lorenzo Alcazar—”

“You’re afraid of what he might do,” Elizabeth said.

“I thought about just leaving,” Jason confessed. Her lips parted in surprise. “Like before. Just getting on my bike and never looking back. But there are people depending on Sonny keeping himself together. I can’t leave them. Not like this.”

The phone rang again, and he sighed.

“You should probably go,” Elizabeth said, leaning back in her chair.

“I know. I shouldn’t have stayed. I just—you’re not part of any of that,” he said finally. “I needed to breathe. I needed to—I needed to think about all the reasons I can’t make changes. Not right now,” he added, more for himself. More as a reassurance that maybe he could one day. He looked at her. “But I shouldn’t have made you sit through all of that. It’s not fair to you.”

“I decide what’s fair to me,” Elizabeth said, and now she was smirking.

Startled, he let out a half laugh. “Did you memorize everything I’ve said to you?”

“Everything that matters,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t want you to worry about hurting me, Jason. I can take care of myself. I’ve hurt you, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but I don’t—” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to think about that anymore. To feel bad about this last year. Or two years ago. Or two weeks ago,” he added. “We did what we did. I’m not sorry it happened,” he said, and her eyes widened slightly. “I should be. It would be easier if I was. But I’m not.”

“Me, either,” Elizabeth said. “Listen, I know what happened that night — technically it was wrong. But Courtney chose to forgive you. I know how you can get. You feel guilty because you’re not sorry. And that guilt? It can drown you, and make you do things that only hurt you worse.”

“Like wake up one morning and put on a tux because it’s front of me,” Jason said, and she nodded. “Yeah. I know. I’m working on that.” He rose to his feet. “I…Thank you. But I won’t come back. I made my choice. I need to see it through.”

“Is that what love is supposed to be?” Elizabeth asked. “Something you have to push through?” She also stood, folded her arms. “That’s not me pressuring you, it’s just a question.”

“What I said before about things happening one after another for months—then looking up and trying to breathe?” Jason said. “I don’t know…I don’t know if I feel this way because things are bad right now, and they’re hard, or if this is actually how I feel. I just don’t—I don’t want to run when things get hard.”

She flinched, looked at her hands.

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“No,” Elizabeth said. She raised her head. “No. That’s what I did. I ran when you didn’t act the way I thought you should. I never let you in again. You’re not wrong to have doubts about that. Relationships — you know, that’s how they are sometimes. You go through bad times. You go through bad times, and sometimes you come out the other side. And sometimes you don’t. But you won’t know until you know.” She bit her lip. “But you’re right. This has to be it. Because you’ve made this choice. And if you don’t see it through, you’ll always wonder if you made the right one. You need to put everything into it. And you won’t do that if I’m here, with a willing ear, reminding you of what happened. So…let’s finish cleaning up, you can walk me to my building, and then go home, Jason..”

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