I persist and resist the temptation to ask you If one thing had been different Would everything be different today? We were something, don’t you think so? Rosé flowing with your chosen family And it would’ve been sweet If it could’ve been me In my defense, I have none For digging up the grave another time But it would’ve been fun If you would’ve been the one
July 2004
It was a sweltering summer day, with the sun high in the sky, burning down on everything its rays touched. But in the middle of Port Charles park, underneath the canopy of trees, it was just a little bit cooler.
Not that Jason ever noticed — he didn’t feel temperature the way everyone did. He could still freeze to death, still pass out from heatstroke — but he wouldn’t know he was in danger until it was too late.
So he didn’t notice the heat or think much of it as he crossed through the park, taking the short cut from downtown Port Charles towards the waterfront. The northern edge of the park was just a few blocks from Courtland Street, and he had a bookie to track down.
He followed the path as it wound through the heart of the park, then dipped into one of the clearings with a stone fountain and circle of benches in matching material, then he stopped because a familiar figure was sitting on the edge of the fountain, holding an infant in one arm, the other hand gliding across the surface of the water, then flicking a few drops in the baby’s face. There was a gurgle, almost a laugh.
She smiled at her son, then that smile widened when she saw him at the edge of the clearing. “Jason!”
“You’re back.” Jason cleared his throat, closed the distance between them, and sat a few feet away from her on the fountain ledge. The bookie completely forgotten. “Emily didn’t say anything—”
“I got home a few weeks ago. I, um—” Elizabeth settled the baby on her lap, wrapping her arms around his pudgy middle. “I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t want to…intrude.” The smile faded slightly. “I didn’t feel right saying anything.”
He hadn’t seen her there. Hadn’t even known to look for her. They’d been in the same church, same cemetery, and he hadn’t known? “You could have. You wouldn’t have intruded. We’re friends.”
“Friends,” Elizabeth repeated. “Who don’t talk.”
“We—” And he realized, no, they didn’t. Outside a handful of conversations after Emily’s cancer battle the year before, the brief interactions that spring after her marriage had deteriorated, they hadn’t been friends in nearly two years. “We’re always friends,” Jason said firmly.
“All right. Then—” Elizabeth slid closer to him. “This is Cameron. Cam, this is Mommy’s friend, Jason.” She flashed another smile at him. “You’re having a baby, Emily said. I’m so happy for you. You’re such a great father—”
“I’m—” Jason grimaced, looked away. “No, I’m not.”
Her brows drew together quizzically. “What? You were so good with Michael. Don’t worry about being out of practice or whatever. I mean, I’ve only been a mother for a few months, but I think about what you used to say about babies being aware—”
“I’m not having a baby.”
The words hung between them for a long moment, and she exhaled slowly. Looked at the water pooling behind them. “Emily wondered, but she didn’t know how to ask you. Didn’t know if you’d tell her the truth.” A corner of her mouth twitched. “She didn’t want you to lie to her.”
“I—”
“I told her not to be silly. Jason doesn’t lie.” Her eyes found him. “After all you never told me Sonny was dead. You avoided being alone with me so you didn’t have to lie to me.”
Jason dipped his head, stared hard at the ground. “You didn’t think that then. You were angry.”
“Not because you lied. Because you didn’t trust me. But you’re lying now. Because of Sonny and Carly, right?”
“The boys—” Jason exhaled slowly. “The boys deserve their family together. Sonny and Carly will drag them into court—”
“And living with their miserable parents screaming at each other is better? I grew up in a house without love. Children can feel that, too. You think Michael is better off this way?”
“I don’t—” Jason straightened. “No. But I promised Sam—”
Elizabeth sighed, smoothed her hands over Cameron’s soft dark hair, and he knew he’d disappointed her again, but what did she want from him? “Okay, you promised Sam you’d lie to the whole world for her. Just like you promised Carly.”
At that, Jason looked at her sharply. “What?”
“You promised Carly you’d claim Michael. Even though it meant that you’d slept with Carly while you were with Robin. And you got to be a father for a little while, but that didn’t last, did it?” Elizabeth tugged the stroller closer with her toe, leaned down to strap Cameron into it.
“It’s—it’s not the same—”
“No, because at least Carly makes sense. You were friends, weren’t you? But this Sam woman—” Elizabeth shrugged. “But you’re your own person, Jason. You make your choices. I just can’t believe after everything you went through with Michael, you’d put yourself in the same position.” She stood up, went to the handles of the stroller, her smile was sad. “But then again, maybe it shouldn’t surprise me. You’re doing it for Sonny.”
“I’m doing it for Michael—” Jason stood, his voice tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t I?” Elizabeth sighed, looked away for a long moment. “I guess I don’t. After all, it’s not like we’re friends, right? It’s not like I haven’t watched you go through this before. It’s not like I wasn’t the one you confided in the last time you claimed a child that wasn’t yours for a woman who can’t be trusted to tell the same story twice.” Her eyes were sad. “It’s not like I wasn’t someone you lied to because Sonny told you to. What do I know?”
“I—”
“I won’t say anything. Thank you for not lying to me. But like I said, we’re not friends anymore.”
Jason covered the top of her hand, resting on the handle of the stroller. “It wasn’t about trust. With Sonny—”
Her eyes searched his, then she smiled again. “It doesn’t matter. A long time ago, maybe. I made mistakes. I walked out when I should have stayed. I thought about going to see you, but then you married Brenda. Why did you do that again?” she asked, and he looked away. “To keep her out of Sonny and Carly’s hair, right?”
“Elizabeth—”
“It’s like I said that night. It’s Sonny for you. First, last…always.”
But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long ‘Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I’d curse you for the longest time Chasin’ shadows in the grocery line I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired And you’d be standin’ in my front porch light And I knew you’d come back to me You’d come back to me
November 2001
Sonny Corinthos was a man of his word.
He’d promised that no one would disturb her private paradise, tucking her in the furthest private cottage on the resort, with her own private beach and road. She cooked and cleaned for herself — her existence completely unknown to all save for Sonny. Not even Nikolas or Luke and Laura had known where Elizabeth planned to hide while they completed the final stages of the war against the Cassadines.
She’d played her role, waged enough battles, and now she had completed a strategic retreat.
The sun sank below the horizon in the distance, the pinks, peaches, and purples swirling together as the dark of night gradually merged, the sparkling diamond blue waters of the Caribbean losing its bright colors.
And still she sat on the beach, her toes squished into the sand, the wind off the ocean keeping her cool and ruffling the short ends of her dark hair, the roar of the ocean drowning out almost everything except her own thoughts.
A year ago, she’d almost been happy. Lucky was home, healthy, happy, and he loved her. They loved each other, and finally they were going to build a future together. Instead—
She closed her eyes, drew her knees up to her chest, pressed her forehead against them.
They’d stopped listening to each other. Seeing each other. When had that happened? Was there a single moment, a word, a breath they’d shared that had begun the unraveling?
No. There’d been a person.
Jason sharing her studio, looking at her with just a hint of something else in his eyes, the way he’d touched her, held her—
She’d been attracted to him. Wildly so. And instead of examining it, instead of exploring it—instead of doing anything that would actually make her happy—
She’d run away.
Everything that had made her happy had been wrong. Spending time with Jason, painting, being alone in her studio—having thoughts and opinions that weren’t the same as Lucky — she’d disappeared a little more every day, and she hadn’t wanted to see it.
Not when Jason had told her he cared about her. Not when he’d nearly kissed her. Not when he’d held out his hand and offered the world —
But when Nikolas had asked her to take poison to free Lucky from his brainwashing, to place her life in his hands — now Elizabeth could see all the ways she’d faded.
Her disappearance had mostly gone unremarked upon, Sonny had reluctantly admitted. The people who mattered knew what she’d wanted to do, so they weren’t questioning it. Her grandmother had accepted the excuse that she’d gone to visit her family.
But the world at large? Didn’t seem to notice Elizabeth Webber was gone. Because she didn’t exist outside of Lucky Spencer.
Now, three weeks after that fateful night, Elizabeth wondered if maybe she could just stay gone. Stay dead. What would the difference be? Would Lucky even notice? Would anyone really miss her?
The sun had completely slipped away, and the night was lit only by the moon rising above. She should go inside — the nights were cold this time of year, and if there were clouds, she’d never be able to find her way back to the cottage.
But then there was a strange sound — and the weight of something—someone—lowering themselves to sit next to her. Breathing.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, saw the feet first — larger than her own, the skin bare, and the toes in the sand. She dragged her gaze up the long legs encased in khaki shorts, to the the white-shirt—and the man looking back at her.
She licked her lips, dry, and tried to find her voice, but it was rusty from disuse. “Jason?”
“Typically, when someone dies, there’s a funeral.”
She hadn’t expected those words, and couldn’t find a response, her eyes still wide. His face was just barely visible in the moonlight, but every line, every crease was beloved to hers. She’d studied it when he’d slept, dreamed about it for months—
“Sonny told you?”
“He didn’t have a choice.” Jason’s knees were bent, his arms clasped loosely around them. “I came to the island on my own.” He glanced behind her towards the building. “But they told me up at the resort my usual place was booked.”
“Your—” She cleared her throat, sat up, straightening out her legs flat against the sand. Her fingers dug in, the grains scratchy against her palm. “Your place.”
“It’s the most remote,” he explained, the corner of his mouth tucked up in an odd smile. “So I called Sonny. And he told me.” His brows drew together. “Poison?”
She wrinkled her nose, looked back to the ocean. “It made sense at the time. Helena wanted me out of the way, and wanted to test Nikolas’s loyalty.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Is it wrong that I was relieved?” she asked, more to herself. “I was so tired. Every moment of my life for six months—God, longer—and it was never going to end. But this plan? It made it over. For me. I could walk away.”
“What if it hadn’t worked? What if it was the real poison?” Jason demanded, his voice low.
“It would still be over.” Irritated by herself, she flopped back on the sand, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my God, it must be insufferable listening to me. I needed poison to break an engagement? What’s the matter with me?”
There was a short period of a silence before Jason spoke again. “You broke an engagement?”
She stared into the sky, concentrating on the stars. “Does it count when your fiancé is brainwashed into not knowing who you are or remembering that you exist? These are the things Dear Abby needs to write about.” She sighed. “I still have the ring. But who knows what Lucky will remember when and if they finally break the brainwashing. Maybe I’ll mail it back when this is over.”
She hauled herself back into a sitting position, forced a smile. “But it’s probably safe enough for Sonny to move me into a room at the resort. I’ll get out of your way.” She started to stand, but Jason was quicker. He was on his feet and reaching for her hand.
“Don’t move on my account. I can take a room anywhere.” His fingers stayed laced in hers. “How long until you go back to Port Charles?”
“I don’t know. Never?” she asked, almost as suggestion. “Maybe I’ll go out to Arizona. Where Emily’s rehabbing. Have you been to see her?”
“Yeah, I went a few months ago.” They started back up to the house, but he didn’t release her hand, and she wasn’t going to argue. “She’s going to stay out there. Enroll in classes next semester.”
“Smart. Both of you,” Elizabeth added, stepping up from the beach to the wooden stairs leading to the cottage. “Getting out of Port Charles. There’s something in the air that turns you insane.”
“Insane?” Jason repeated, almost grinning now. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“I just faked my death by drinking fake poison for my brainwashed back from the dead boyfriend,” Elizabeth told him. “Do you have a better word?”
He considered it, then shook his head. “No. I really don’t.”
“See, I told you. The air in Port Charles drives you crazy.” She folded her arms against the chill, looked back over the ocean. “Arizona’s landlocked isn’t it?”
“I think there’s a place on the border where the ocean is four hours away.”
“Of course you’d know that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, maybe Arizona is good for a visit. Maybe I can go for Christmas or something. But I think I want to be on the water. I’ll have to think about it more.”
She reached for the sliding door into the cottage, but he snagged her hand. She looked back, frowning. “What?”
“You’re serious. You’re really thinking about not going home?”
“Home.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m not sure Port Charles is my home. I don’t miss it. I miss my grandmother a little,” she admitted. “But we’ve been arguing with each other for years. She’ll probably appreciate the peace. I haven’t been happy in a long time, Jason. Why should I go back to people and places that won’t change that? Isn’t that why you left?”
“Yeah, but—” His fingers gripped her arm just a little more tightly, his eyes searching hers. “I just didn’t think—you took poison for him.”
“I thought I did. But now I know I did it for me. It was the only way to escape, and I’m taking it.” She shifted, facing him more directly. “Will you go with me? To Arizona? We can go see Emily.”
“What about after that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to make any more plans. I just want to live in the moment and be happy there.” She licked her lips again. “But I understand if you don’t want to. You’ve probably got your own plans—”
“No—” Jason stopped her, then smiled—that long, slow one that she so rarely saw from him. “No, I like your idea. Let tomorrow care take of itself.”
She grinned back at him. Taking poison had been the best idea she’d ever had.
And they said “There goes the last great American dynasty” “Who knows if she never showed up, what could’ve been” “There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen” “She had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything”
August 2007
A strange calm settled over Elizabeth as she sat outside the courtroom, staring at the wood-paneled doubled doors.
Ric was calling her to the stand, and she knew what her ex-husband wanted from her. Testimony that would put Jason in jail for the rest of his life for murdering Lorenzo Alcazar. And she knew that if Ric didn’t like her story, he’d attack her credibility. Diane had prepped her for that, but the lawyer hadn’t known what exactly Ric might use against her.
“Whatever you do,” Diane had told her with that pinched look on her face, “don’t lie. I can clean up anything on cross, but if you lie, it will make everything worse.”
And boy, didn’t Elizabeth know that was true? Lying had never solved a single problem, only getting her through life moment to moment.
Ric would ask about Jake. He had known paternity was an issue — and it wasn’t a stretch to guess that Lucky didn’t know any of it had happened. He would ask about her relationship with Jason.
He would ask about Jake.
And Elizabeth would have a choice.
“Elizabeth Spencer?”
A bailiff stood in the open doorway, gesturing. Elizabeth rose to her feet.
Showtime.
She kept her eyes straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone in the courtroom save for the clerk that swore her in—
Do you promise to tell the truth—
She stared at a piece of the tiled floor, saw Ric’s shoes as they drew closer to her.
“What is your profession?”
Now she lifted her gaze, locking eyes with her traitorous, sociopathic ex-husband who had never brought her anything but misery. Who would always take every opportunity to hurt Jason.
“I’m a nurse at General Hospital.” She clenched her hands in her lap, didn’t look at Jason.
“How long have you known Jason Morgan?”
“Objection,” Diane said, almost lazily. “Lacks foundation.”
“Sustained.”
Ric’s mouth tightened. “Do you know Jason Morgan.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Maybe ten years. A little less.” Keep your answers short. Answer only what you’ve been asked.
“And what is the nature of that relationship?”
Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “When?”
Ric straightened, narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a trick question, Mrs. Spencer. What is the nature of your relationship with Jason Morgan?”
“Ten years is a long time. I want to be sure I understand your question and answer truthfully.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched, and she wondered if he was silently counting to ten.
“The nature of your relationship today,” Ric said. “What is it today?”
“Oh. Friends.” And that was entirely true, Elizabeth thought. Having feelings and thoughts didn’t change status. Actions did.
That hadn’t been what he’d been expecting, and she watched him hesitate, gather himself. “All right. Have you always been friends?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Spencer, I think you know what I’m asking you, and you’re refusing to do so—”
“Objection. Argumentative. Speculative. Lacks foundation. All of the above.” Diane flashed Ric a smile when the district attorney threw her a dirty look.
“Sustained. On all accounts. If you have a question, Mr. Lansing, I suggest you ask it.”
“All right. Let’s try this. Did you overhear a conversation between Jason Morgan and the victim, Lorenzo Alcazar, shortly before Mr. Alcazar disappeared?”
“I saw them having a conversation. I didn’t hear what was said.”
“Not even a single word?” Ric wanted to know, his tone dubious. “You didn’t hear anything?”
“I didn’t hear what was said,” Elizabeth repeated.
“Have you ever been to Mr. Morgan’s home? The penthouse on Harborview Drive,” Ric added before she avoided the question.
“Yes.”
“Have you spent the night?”
“Yes.”
Ric leaned against the prosecution table, folded his arms. “Have you ever had sex with Mr. Morgan?”
Her cheeks flooded with heat, but she didn’t look at Lucky in the audience or Jason at his table. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Last August.”
“Last August,” Ric repeated. He cocked his head. “Were you married at the time?”
“Yes.”
“Did your husband know about that?”
“Before right now? No.”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Diane rose. “As scandalous and fascinating as I’m sure we are all in my defendant’s sex life, I fail to see the relevance.”
“Credibility, Your Honor,” Ric said before the judge could argue. “Mrs. Spencer has a reason to protect Jason Morgan. A very good one. And I’d like permission to explore why she’d lie on the stand here today.”
“Tight rope, Mr. Lansing,” the judge remarked. “Overruled.”
“August 2006. That would be a year ago. Your youngest son. When was he born?”
“May 4.” Elizabeth’s lips twitched. As devastating as this was to her life, she felt outside of all of that. It was just her now, dueling with Ric, fighting the same fight they’d had since they met. Just how far would she go to protect Jason Morgan?
All the way to the ends of the Earth.
“May 4,” Ric murmured. “That’s nine months, isn’t? Or a little over?”
“Your math is correct.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Spencer, who is the biological father of young — ” He made a show of checking his notes, though he would have memorized it long ago. “Jacob Martin.” He emphasized the beginning initials of Jake’s name. “Your husband or Mr. Morgan?”
And here it was. The moment where she could protect her life or tell the truth.
If she lied, there was a chance Ric knew the answer to that. And the jury would never believe the rest of her testimony.
And if she told the truth, her world would explode, and she’d never be able to take it back.
In the end, it was an easy choice. A choice she should have made months ago.
“Mr. Morgan.”
Ric’s face fell and the courtroom exploded in whispers and conversations. Now, Elizabeth looked out in the galley, at the red face of Lucky as he jerked to his feet and stalked out of the room. She bit her lip, regretting that she hadn’t done more to protect him from the truth but—
She looked now at Jason for the first time, at the stunned expression etched into his features, his mouth slightly parted. He’d never expected her to tell the truth —
“Order! Order!” The judge banged the gavel. “Mr. Lansing—”
“You’re telling me that Jason Morgan is the biological father of your son,” Ric bit out, striding forward. “Does he know that?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Are we done with this yet?” Diane demanded.
“Mr. Lansing—”
“No further questions,” Ric retorted, sending Elizabeth a scathing glare. “I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done.”
She lifted her chin. “Are you?” she asked coolly. He clenched his fists. “I told the truth, Ric. You should try it sometime.” She flicked her eyes to the judge. “Am I done?”
“Uh—” The judge cleared his throat, looked over at Diane. “Ms. Miller?”
“I have no questions for this witness.” Diane smirked. “Unless Mr. Lansing wants to recall her—”
“I’m finished with her,” Ric interrupted, offering one last fulminating glance before sitting at the table.
“Mrs. Spencer, you’re dismissed.”
Elizabeth nodded, rose to her feet, looking at Jason one more time, mouthing I’m sorry as she passed. He just smiled faintly, nodding. It’s all right, his eyes told her. They’d figure everything out later.
Outside, the cameras were flashing — reporters had rushed outside ahead of her — questions were being thrown at her, Lucky was glaring at her from across the hallway.
1 I can see you standing, honey
With his arms around your body
Laughin’, but the joke’s not funny at all
When the door slammed behind Elizabeth, Jason had stared at it for a long time, willing it to be different. For this to be a waking nightmare, for her to come back, for himself to run after, to stop her.
But he did none of those things. Instead, he’d climbed the stairs to the second floor, looked down the small stretch of hallway with four doors. The bathroom, two guest rooms, a master bedroom. They were empty now, he thought.
He walked like a zombie to the room at the end of the hall — not the master, he’d given that to Elizabeth — but the smaller room he’d taken for himself, one not much larger than Jake’s. He stripped his clothes and shoes as he walked across the thick carpet, falling into bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.
Waiting for the world to finally stop.
But sleep had never come. The world had slowly turned towards the sun, the streaks of colors more than visible in this room without curtains or blinds. Colors that Elizabeth could have described for him in vivid detail, with names for the specific shades of purple, pink, and gold.
But they’d never seen a sunrise together, not in this room or any other.
He rose from bed, the grit of sleepless nights in his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of clothes that hadn’t been on the dresser when he’d stopped in the night before. Two pairs of blue jeans, three shirts, white socks rolled up into balls, and two pairs of briefs.
She’d done his laundry, Jason thought. He’d never thought about it — the clean clothes that had appeared in his dresser for months. There’d been no time to spare for logistics. He hadn’t questioned the clean clothes, the pot of coffee that always seemed to be ready, the covered plates in the oven.
Jason stood, pulled on his clothes, tied the laces on the boots, and left the rest of the laundry on his dresser. He knew where he’d find her — he’d memorized the schedule the guard had given him, needing to know where she was at every minute, to be sure that one piece of his world was in order. That she was safe.
He stopped in the courtyard, looked through the glass window panes, watched her behind the counter. Had she slept? Were there regrets now in her mind? If he went inside—
But before the thought could form, a familiar form appeared, taking a stool. Blocking Elizabeth from his view. Lucky Spencer.
He waited another moment, waited for Lucky to leave, to move, for just one more glimpse of her, for a sign that she wanted him to come in. That she didn’t mean what she’d said—
Lucky shifted slightly, just enough for Elizabeth’s eyes to drift away from him. To the door.
To Jason.
2 And it took you five whole minutes
To pack us up and leave me with it
Holdin’ all this love out here in the hall
He was here. The fingers clutching the ceramic mug trembled, then tightened to keep her grip. He was here. Standing in the courtyard. Looking at her. Did he want to come in? Did he miss her? Was he sorry? Was she sorry? Did any of it matter? Oh, what would she say if he came in—
“Elizabeth. E-liz-a-beth.”
Elizabeth dragged her eyes away just for a moment to look at her ex-boyfriend, her brows drawing together at the familiar whine in his tone, the irritating way he drew out the syllables of her name. “What?”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Elizabeth looked back to the courtyard and swallowed hard. Jason was gone. Gone. Like all the empty, lonely nights she’d spent in his penthouse, waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to let her look after him, to be with him—it was all gone.
“Elizabeth?” This time Lucky’s voice wasn’t as impatient. He twisted on the stool, followed her gaze. “What am I missing?”
Everything. Nothing.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Never mind. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Well, of course not. Not with all that news about Sonny and Jason.” His mouth pinched. “You didn’t know. I knew as soon as I saw the breaking news — I knew he’d lied to you. I tried to—”
“Don’t. I don’t—I don’t want an ‘I told you so’ today. You said you wanted something. What?”
“Oh. Well, I need to track down my dad, and I thought you might have some ideas—”
Lucky’s voice drifted and she couldn’t focus. Couldn’t absorb any of it. She’d walked out on Jason the night before, had packed her things in a red haze of rage, humiliated, furious—
She’d been in Jason’s room when she’d learned the news. Standing there, her hands clutched around a stack of clean clothes, wondering if she’d see him that night—
And Zander had rushed in, eyes wild, babbling about Sonny being alive, and why hadn’t she said anything? Why didn’t she tell him the truth—
Doing his laundry, cooking, and cleaning for him like a stupid girl, Elizabeth thought. And he’d been lying. Lying for weeks and days and hours and minutes. Spending time with everyone but her. Ignorant little girl.
“Elizabeth? Will you help?”
She tuned back in, then shook her head. “I don’t think I can do anything today, Lucky. I’m just…I’m tired. Maybe some other time.”
3 I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
He’d memorized her schedule at Kelly’s months ago. She opened three days a week, and closed two. And today, she had opened.
It had taken more courage that he’d thought to pull the door open just fifteen minutes before she usually cashed out, and Jason wasn’t sure what it said about him that he’d rather face gunfire that the look in her eyes again. That brief moment this morning—
But nothing would be fixed if he avoided her, and he wanted to fix this. To know what she’d meant by he’d ruined everything—how could he have done that with just one lie? Was that all he’d get?
There was another waitress behind the counter when he entered the diner, and Jason thought for a moment that he’d made a mistake. But no, there was Elizabeth now, stepping in from the kitchen, still facing the inside of the small room, talking to the cook.
“I’m going to cash out—” Elizabeth’s profile turned towards him as she spoke, the words faltering when she saw him at the counter, sitting on the stool. She swallowed hard, her hands fluttering to the top edge of her apron. Their eyes held for a moment, before she broke the contact. “I’m going to cash out now,” she said to the waitress. “Is that okay?”
The waitress—her name started with a P, Jason thought—darted quick glances back and forth between Jason and Elizabeth. “Sure, Liz.”
This was the moment, he thought. He straightened. He’d ask to give her a ride. Just like always. He’d find a way to fix it—
“Elizabeth, great, you’re still here.”
Her head whipped around at the voice from the kitchen. Lucky came in, a bit breathless. “I need your help,” he said.”
“I already told you—”
“But it’s an emergency. There’s no one else I can call—”
Jason sighed, slid off the stool, and left the diner. He didn’t want to know who she’d choose. How many times had it been Lucky? He didn’t think he could do it one more time.
Not today.
4 You’re not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
Elizabeth heard the bell over the door ring, and she knew what she’d find even before she turned around. Jason was in the courtyard, already heading towards the piers. Tears burned. Why had he had come in, looked at her like that, and left?
Why did he always walk away from her? No. That was me last night, she thought. I walked away, and barely let him speak. And now I’m surprised he doesn’t want to wait around?
“I said it’s an emergency—”
“Call Sarah,” Elizabeth snapped, glaring at Lucky. “Or Nikolas. Or Gia. Your aunt. Go talk to your sister. You probably haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Just stop.” She put her hands up. “Stop. You didn’t bother me for two months, Lucky. Why are you suddenly everywhere I look today?”
Lucky made a face. “Nikolas and Gia aren’t going to help me find my dad. Okay? And Lulu needs him. I just need to get Dad home, and figure things out from there. Just hear me out.”
“Not today. Just—not today.” She yanked her purse out from under the counter, and headed for the door.
But by the time she reached the courtyard, Jason was nowhere to be seen. He could have gone to the warehouse, in the early stages of being rebuilt. He could have gone home.
He could have gone a thousand places, and she’d have no reason to know where.
Elizabeth pressed the heel of her palm against her eyes, took a deep breath, then went towards her studio. She needed to sleep. To take a deep breath.
It would all be different tomorrow.
5 You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
I think I’ve seen this film before
Sonny swirled the bourbon in the glass. “Source at the hospital says Alcazar won’t be released for another week, so that buys us a little time to figure things out. I know you hated all the lying—”
“What are we trying to figure out?” Jason interrupted, not interested in hearing Sonny justify himself again. The choice had been made, and he’d followed orders. He hadn’t pushed hard enough to bring Elizabeth into the secret, and that was on him. “He’s in the hospital. Make a call, Sonny. Get it over with.”
“He’s being protected by the government—they need his contacts in South America.” Sonny sighed, scratched his temple. “So we need to make sure Brenda’s secured. You need to talk to her—”
“I’m done talking to Brenda for you,” Jason cut in, and Sonny just looked at him. “Deal with her yourself.”
“Jase—”
“And while you’re at it, find someone else to deal with your sister. I don’t have the time to handle my job and her security.”
“Seems to me your schedule just opened up,” Sonny said almost dryly.
“What does that mean?”
“Uh, Wally on the front desk. Said Elizabeth left last night. With her suitcase. She mad about what happened?”
“What do you think?” Jason bit out, his shoulders tense. “I don’t want to talk about it—”
“Well, if it’s going to distract you—”
“Distract me,” Jason echoed, then shook his head. “Carly walking out on you, would that be distracting?”
“Carly’s my wife, Jase. There’s a difference.”
“No, there’s not. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He yanked the door open and left before Sonny could say something else that made Jason want to put his fist through a wall.
6 I can see you starin’, honey
Like he’s just your understudy
Like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me
She could have called him. If she really wanted to talk to him—
If he really wanted to talk to her—
Either one of them could have simply dialed a number and been connected in minutes. But her phone remained quiet in her hand, nothing coming.
Or going out.
“There you are.” Lucky jogged down the last few steps of the docks steps, bounded over to the bench where she was sitting. “Mike said you just left—”
Elizabeth sighed, tipped her head back, closed her eyes. Two days. He’d given her two days, she thought. The time and space she’d asked for her.
She only wished it had been enough.
“I’ve got a lead on my dad,” Lucky was saying when she looked at him, focused on what he was actually saying. “I think maybe he got picked up in Alabama. Or someone with the same alias.” He paused. “Are you listening?”
She was trying to, but a crane further along the waterfront had swung into action, drawing her attention. Lucky followed her gaze.
“They’re rebuilding again? You’d think they’d take the hint.” He looked back. “You talk to him yet?”
“No.” She looked down again at the phone. Silence. “No.”
“If he was really sorry, he’d have found you. Said something.”
He’d tried to, hadn’t he? Or had he just been at Kelly’s. Was he at the warehouse now, overseeing the rebuild? Out on the bike? Doing a job? Guarding Courtney or Brenda? What was he doing?
Was he thinking of her?
“What did you say about your dad?” Elizabeth asked. “Something about Alabama?”
7 Second, third, and hundredth chances
Balancin’ on breaking branches
Those eyes add insult to injury
She wasn’t behind the counter. Jason peered through the windows, waiting for her to appear from the kitchen or from a corner of the diner not visible to him. She was supposed to open today, which meant her shift should be ending soon.
But that was the last time he’d talked to her about her schedule. Had it changed?
Jason pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts until he found her name on the speed dial. One button. If he had held it down, he could find out for sure where she was. What she was doing.
He could call the guard that still followed her to and from work. Jason didn’t ask for reports, he never had. The man was just there to keep her safe. Not to report back. But he’d wanted to, Jason thought. He’d wanted to ask if she was all right.
But it’d be cheating to ask someone else. He wouldn’t have a reason to talk to her, to look at her.
He looked towards the docks, where her building would be visible. Was she there? It would be getting cold soon. Was her studio heating better than the winter he’d stayed there? Or worse. He could go there. Find her. Talk to her.
He could call her.
But the phone went back in his pocket, and he turned to leave the courtyard.
Then someone called his name.
8 I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
Elizabeth rubbed her arms absently as she walked along Elm Street, closing the distance between the pier and the parking lot at Kelly’s. It was chillier than yesterday, and she should have grabbed a sweater or a jacket.
She had switched shifts with Penny, not wanting the quiet of the opening crowd or the impatience of the breakfast rush, and tips were better at lunch. And maybe Jason was more likely to stop in during the middle of the day.
She turned the corner into the courtyard, stopping when she saw the door half open, and Jason in the entrance. Her heartbeat picked up.
She could do it today. Just talk to him. Say hello. Something. Maybe even smile at him so he’d know it was safe to talk to her.
She wasn’t even angry anymore. Just sad. Lonely. Irritated with both of them for that night in the penthouse. She hadn’t give him a chance to speak — but he hadn’t stopped her.
What had happened to that old, easy comfort before them? The ability to say anything to each other without fear?
She opened her mouth, her lips already forming his name—and then someone else darted out of the diner in front him. A streak of golden blonde hair.
“Thanks so much!” Courtney said, turning back to the doorway. “For walking me home, I mean. I guess I’m just a little nervous with everything going on.”
“It’s fine,” Jason said, though maybe Elizabeth was imagining the reluctance in his tone.
“Oh, hey, Liz!”
Jason turned, saw her, his hand sliding down from the door. Their eyes met.
9 I’m not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
“I didn’t think you were working today!” Courtney said, her eyes overly bright, darting back and forth between them. “Penny asked me to open for her.”
“I switched with her,” Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat. “Jason. Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, the word almost a rush of breath. She’d looked at him, spoken. That was good? It was a sign, wasn’t it? “I…was looking for you.”
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly—was he imagining that maybe it was a smile? “Oh—”
“Well, now you know she’s working this shift,” Courtney said, drawing both their attention. “Jason’s going to walk me home. You know, with AJ still in DC, and what happened on the docks a few weeks ago.”
Elizabeth’s eyes dropped, and she looked away. His stomach tightened. Of course Elizabeth remembered, he thought. It had been the last time they’d seen each other before that terrible night. When she’d seen Courtney’s lipstick on him, and she’d looked at him with those sad eyes.
“I should get inside,” Elizabeth said, taking a small step towards the diner, one hand stretching out for the door. She was close, Jason thought. Too close. He should move, but he couldn’t.
Instead he held the door open for her, but stayed where he was, forcing her to duck slightly under his arm, her arm brushing against his chin, close enough that he could smell the tart citrus of her shampoo. It was almost physically painful, he thought, to be this close to her, and not touch.
He just wanted to hold her. To tell her he was sorry, that he wanted to fix this—
“We’d better go,” Courtney said, forcing him to look at her. To remember that she existed. Jason exhaled slowly. There was nothing he could do right now. Elizabeth was working, and there was no time for conversation.
He’d come back though. She’d looked at him, had almost smiled.
He’d hold on to that until he could come back.
10 You were my crown
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
She never stopped talking. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d noticed that before, or if now everything Courtney did irritated him. If she hadn’t asked him for the walk, would he have seen Elizabeth before her shift? Would there have been time for something more than a few words?
“I really shouldn’t have reminded Elizabeth about the docks,” Courtney chirped drawing his attention.
“What?”
“The night I got mugged on the docks. She talked to me the next day.” Courtney paused at the curb, glanced both ways for cars, then continued across the street. Jason reluctantly followed. “I don’t know what you said, but she thought I’d been hurt or that I was really upset, and I wasn’t—I told her that. But I was really grateful you were there.”
Jason grimaced, muttered his irritation beneath his breath. “Yeah, it’s fine. Listen—”
“You guys are going to fix this, you know. Just apologize. I’m not mad anymore about Sonny lying to me,” Courtney said. She stopped at the door to her building, turning wide blue eyes on him. “And he’s my brother! If I could forgive you and Sonny for lying about my own family, Elizabeth can get over this.”
“It’s not—”
“I mean, it’s not like you guys were serious,” Courtney continued. “She was dating Zander Smith like a month ago, right?”
Jason clenched his jaw, looked away. “Here’s your building. I have to go.”
“You’re not going to walk me up—”
“No. Call Sonny. Get a guard.” Or a dog. Or a friend, Jason thought, almost bitterly, heading back to Kelly’s where he’d left his bike.
He wouldn’t be able to talk to Elizabeth until closing, so he’d have to distract himself somehow.
11 I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Elizabeth set the tub of dirty dishes down behind the counter, frowned at Lucky. “What?”
“Alabama,” Lucky said. “We talked about it this morning.” He furrowed his brow. “You haven’t been listening to me at all have you?”
“Sometimes.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Lucky. I’m not being a very good friend right now.”
“No, but it’s okay.” He twisted off the end of a straw wrapper. “I haven’t been a good friend to you, either. You think it’s too late for us to do that? Be friends?”
“Maybe.”
Lucky made a face. “I don’t want it to be. So, okay, I’m going to sit here, put on my supportive face, and you tell me everything about Jason. I promise I won’t say one word about why you’re better off.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I’m not doing that. Go back for Alabama. I’ll be fine.” Somehow, she thought, she’d made that the truth.
12
So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you
The hours crawled by. The minutes, the seconds, all of it felt three times as long as any other day. She’d looked at him, said his name. Had almost smiled.
That had to mean she was ready to listen to him didn’t it?
He went to the closet, to take down the lock box with his gun. It didn’t matter if Alcazar was in the hospital, or there were no other threats — he never left the penthouse without it. But when he reached for the lock box on the shelf, something caught his eye on the closet floor.
A jacket. Elizabeth’s. He left the box on the shelf, crouched down to pick it up, his fingers sliding over the leather.
He’d bought this for her that Christmas, Jason thought, absently walking towards the desk. She’d worn it that night in her studio, when he’d kissed her. When she’d kissed him.
When everything had seemed so much easier. Before it had gone wrong. And now here they were, further apart than ever.
“Knock, knock—” Carly pushed the door open. “Hey. Sonny wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner—” She straightened. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“You’re holding—what’s that? A jacket? It’s too small to be yours.” She came inside. “It’s Elizabeth’s, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. She must have…” Been in a hurry to leave, he thought, grimacing. “She left it,” he muttered, tossing it on the desk, bracing himself for whatever Carly would say next.
But Carly bit her lip, sighed. “I felt bad, you know. I almost told her the truth.”
Jason frowned, met her eyes. “What?”
“She cleaned up the penthouse after the funeral. Made me brownies.” A smile flitted across her face. “It was nice of her, you know? And I thought I’d enjoy having a secret from her but I couldn’t. She was so worried about you all the time. Waiting for you to come home.” Carly folded her arms. “I didn’t get to enjoy it at all. I told her you’d explain everything when you saw her, but—”
“I didn’t see her much,” Jason murmured. “I avoided her.”
“I thought so. You know, when Sonny told me she’d left, I thought I’d feel relieved. You know? You deserve so much, Jason. Someone who loves you. And I still don’t know if that person is Elizabeth—”
“Carly—”
“I just wish we’d told her.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the jacket. “So do I.”
13 All this time
We always walked a very thin line
Elizabeth smiled faintly at Don. “No, you go ahead, I’ll finish locking up.”
“You sure?” The cook hesitated, his hand on the door to the alley. “You cool with being alone?”
“I’m not really.” She gestured to the courtyard where a man in a suit was standing. The guard didn’t make himself visible unless she was closing, and she appreciated that small touch. And that Jason hadn’t pulled the guard after she’d left.
“Ah. Well, then you have a good night, Liz.”
Elizabeth went back into the diner, glancing to the courtyard a few times as she cleaned up the diner. Would Jason come back? What would she say if he did?
He’d come looking for her, which was more than she’d did, though she’d done her share of chasing in August, she reminded herself.
Then, of course, she’d been trying to convince him that Zander was a terrible mistake. One she’d give anything to take back, so maybe it was fair that she’d been doing the chasing then. Zander. One of her many, terrible mistakes Elizabeth thought. All the times she’d taken Lucky’s side, even when she’d known Jason wouldn’t have attacked first.
But she’d truly thought she’d known Lucky wouldn’t either. How were you supposed to choose between two people who had never lied to her?
She bit her lip. What would she say if he came to her? What was the point? She’d forgive him, and then do something else to prove she was an awful person who didn’t deserve him.
Oh, God, why had she walked out like that? What was wrong with her?
14 You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
He’d faced gunfire and bombs, and yet his pulse skittered approaching the courtyard. The diner had officially closed a few minutes earlier. Jason saw the guard assigned to her in the corner, though he didn’t speak to him. The tables and chairs had already been stacked, and inside the diner, there was just one lone diner lingering over a cup of coffee.
And it wasn’t Lucky.
Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen, smiled at the customer, and set down a bill. Her lips kept moving, and then a moment later, the customer stood and headed for the door.
Her eyes followed the patron as he left, then found his gaze. She smiled tremulously, and he took that as encouragement.
Jason caught the door when the customer left, and went inside.
15 All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
“Um, hey.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands against the green apron. The door behind Jason swung closed, the bells jingling. “You came back.” She hadn’t been sure if he would.
Or why he’d bother.
“Yeah.” His eyes drifted to the stairs. “Is anyone else around?”
“No. No. Um, Lucky’s the only one renting a room right now, and he left for Alabama.” She rubbed her shoulder. “Something about Luke. I wasn’t really listening.” She cleared her throat. “Did you want some coffee or something?”
“No.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and she realized that this is where it would end. Neither of them knowing what to say. Maybe there was nothing left. Maybe she’d finally ruined everything.
16 ‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
So many signs, so many signs
You didn’t even see the signs
Lucky was gone. Courtney was at her apartment as far as he knew. Carly and Sonny tucked away in their penthouse, Alcazar in the hospital, and Zander having taken off — not that Jason gave a damn.
It just meant there was no one to interrupt. And now he realized he’d never thought that would happen. That there would always be a reason to avoid this.
Did he start with an apology? Would that make her happy?
He opened his mouth, because he was sorry of course. The lie hadn’t been what he’d wanted.
But instead he asked something else.
“Did you mean it?”
Her lips parted, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she squinted. “What?”
“You said I ruined everything. Did you mean it?”
17
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
You’re not my homeland anymore
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, all of the energy draining from her with one question — did she mean it?
She dragged out a chair, sat down, and put her head in her hands, dragging them through her hair. “No,” she said softly, staring at the wood grain. “No, but maybe I ruined it.”
She heard the scrape of the chair against the floor, and in her field of vision, she could see the blue shirt he wore, the warm tone to his skin as he folded his arms on the table. But she couldn’t look up.
“I don’t understand.”
The smile that curved her lips now wasn’t a happy one, and she finally looked up, found his eyes. “Sure you do. You were here this summer. Last year. How many ways did I ruin it?”
He winced, looked away. “We don’t have to talk about that—”
“Yeah, I think we do.” She straightened, but reached for the napkin dispenser. She needed something to do with her fingers, something to concentrate on. “I was angry when I left. And now I’m feeling like I don’t have the right to be angry. That I should forgive you because it’s what you do for me. You always forgive me. And I never deserve it—”
“You get to be angry—” he started.
“Really? You don’t feel even the least bit furious with me for never giving you the benefit of the doubt?” Elizabeth asked, and she saw the way he dropped his eyes, looked away. “I hurt you, Jason. You made that clear to me in a thousand ways, and I still kept pushing. And I’m surprised because you didn’t trust me enough to tell the truth about Sonny? You probably thought I’d tell Zander or something—”
“I never—that’s not why I didn’t tell you—”
“I don’t need to know why anymore. I don’t. I just need—” She sighed, looked away. “I need to turn back time,” she murmured. “But that’s not on the table. So what I need is for you to admit it. I hurt you, and I ruined things long before the other night. I need you to tell me the truth.”
18 So what am I defending now?
You were my town
Now I’m in exile, seein’ you out
There was no easy solution to any of this, Jason realized. An apology wouldn’t work. Not from him, or from her. And they wouldn’t be able to talk around the problem they had a month earlier, when he’d skirted their past knowing he was about to launch a huge lie that she’d be angry about.
“Last year,” Jason began, then paused, because he didn’t even know what to say. “I was angry. And hurt. When I left. After the park.” She closed her eyes, her fingers clenching into fists on the table. “But after I was gone, I could look back and understand it better. Distance helped. I understand what happened then. It was Lucky. Robin and I stayed together too long, too.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t know how to do it. To—let go of a dream. And I didn’t realize that you could be present every day in a relationship, and not realize you’d stopped loving someone. I didn’t know how wrong it all was until you were there.” She swiped at her cheek, looked away. “I didn’t know you could love two people at once. I always thought people were lying about that kind of thing.”
His chest tightened as her words settled in. “Elizabeth—”
“But this year. This year, I screwed up. I screwed up so bad. And I keep rewinding it like a movie in my head, and I’m screaming at myself to stop it. And I can’t ever fix it.”
Jason really didn’t want to talk about any of it. He just wanted to say he was sorry, find a way to make her smile, and maybe she’d go on a ride— but if they didn’t talk about it, it would come back to haunt them. Just like Lucky still lingered.
“Yeah, it hurt,” he said finally, and she looked at him. “I didn’t know where I stood with you. At any point. With Lucky, I could understand it. But Zander? No, I don’t understand it. I don’t think I ever will.”
19 I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door
She’d known that, of course. She’d known it since that terrible day in her studio, when she’d been angry at herself, and pulled open the door, and her world had crumbled—
And everything she’d tried to do to fix it had been built on a broken foundation.
“I—I wish I could give you an answer that would fix it,” Elizabeth said finally. She continued to shred the napkin. “I wish I could say it was a mistake, and leave it at that, but I just…I don’t know. It started with the blackout. I, um, was upset. And scared, and he was there, and I don’t think I thought that would ever happen. And it did. And I can’t explain it. That feels like a copout, I know, but I just—” She exhaled on a shaky breath. “I never wanted you to know. So the fact that you did. And you saw it, and I feel dirty and disgusting—”
“Hey.” Jason reached across the table, laid one hand over both of hers, stilling the napkin ripping. Her eyes flew to his. “You made a mistake. You regret it. That’s enough for me.”
“But I hurt you—”
“I hurt you more—”
“It’s not a contest,” he said gently, and her cheeks flooded, the tears sliding down leaving trails of cool air against her skin. “You hurt me, okay. You’re sorry, aren’t you?”
20 So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying I can do for you
She was crying, and he’d never wanted that. Never wanted her to feel low or ashamed of what she’d done. He reached across the table with his other hand, taking her fists in his, gently uncurling them.
“I’ve made mistakes, too,” he reminded her, and she sighed, looked away. “Robin and Carly. You know about that. You were friends with Emily when that was going on.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I moved Carly into the cottage,” Jason reminded her, and Elizabeth nodded. “I knew Robin and Carly hated each other. And I knew Carly had feelings for me. I just wanted Michael. I was selfish, and I didn’t think about how much I hurt Robin. Until it was too late to fix it. I’d rather have cut my arm off than hurt her like that, and I did it anyway.”
Her smile was thin. “It’s like you’re standing outside of yourself, you know? And it makes sense to you in the minute, but then five minutes later, you’re screaming because it’s all wrong. ”
“I can’t even claim that I knew five minutes later. It’s taken years for me to see what I did. I was so angry with Robin when she told AJ about Michael. But now I see I asked her to live a lie. Michael was conceived when Robin and I were together. People thought I’d cheated on her. And she handled that. She forgave me. And she stood by me. I didn’t deserve it.”
“She loved you,” Elizabeth murmured. “And she knew you loved Michael.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you about Sonny,” Jason said, and now the apology felt genuine. “It wasn’t a test or a punishment. As awful as both those options are, the truth is worse.”
21 All this time
We always walked a very thin line
You didn’t even hear me out (didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
“It’s okay. Whatever it is,” Elizabeth said, with a quick shake of her head. “I should have let you explain—”
“And maybe I wouldn’t have come up with anything better than what I said the other night. Which wasn’t true. You were right. You were part of this. Alcazar knows you matter to me. That you’re important. He shot at you. But Sonny said no. And I didn’t push him. I didn’t argue.”
“Sonny said no,” Elizabeth echoed, searching his eyes. “So you asked.”
“Yeah. We didn’t have a lot of time to deal with the details. Carly had to know, but she was it. And I had to push on that,” Jason admitted. “After that, Sonny didn’t want to hear about anything else.”
“You made sure Carly knew. That’s good. I’m glad. I’m glad she wasn’t really—that was the right choice.”
“It was?” Jason said, almost skeptically. “I chose Carly over you—”
“Sonny and Carly are married. I can’t believe he ever thought about not telling her. That’s awful. If you’d been faking your death, and chose to tell Carly and not me, well, okay—” She shrugged. “Then we’d have a problem. But if there was only time to have one argument? I’m okay with it being her.”
“Oh.” He sat back, clearly bewildered. “I—I’m still sorry. And Carly. She told me she wishes she’d told you.”
She looked down at his hands again, still holding hers. So that was that, she thought. Lucky and Zander dealt with. The lies about Sonny.
The air was cleared.
Then why did it feel so unfinished?
22 All this time
I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
His thumb stroked over her knuckles, back and forth. Had they broken open all the wounds? Was it all done and over with? Why didn’t he feel like they were on the other side of all this?
“The docks,” he found himself saying. Their eyes met again. “Courtney.”
She started to shake her head. “No—”
“Sonny sent me to look after her. I don’t know why, and I told him it had to be done. I don’t have time to worry about his sister. I don’t even like her. As a person,” he added, and she smiled hesitantly. “That night, I was angry. I wanted to go home to see you. But I knew I’d have to lie. And I didn’t want to. I tried not to be alone with you because you’d want to take care of me—” Jason winced. That sounded so arrogant. “I mean—”
“I absolutely wanted to take care of you. I thought your best friend was dead. You were grieving, and for all I knew, out searching for his killer. And I wondered if you got hurt, would anyone even remember to tell me?”
He closed his eyes, grimaced. Damn it. “Elizabeth—”
“And it hurt that you were avoiding me. And I couldn’t understand why because I’d thought, God, I thought we’d already settled all of this. But you weren’t there. And you were always with her, and I think I knew deep down that I hadn’t really apologized or fixed what I broke—”
“Elizabeth—”
“And I got jealous, and frustrated. And I didn’t know how to tell you about any of that because how selfish would it have been to explode all of that insanity on you when you were grieving?”
“Damn it,” he muttered. He drew back one of his hands to scrub it down one cheek, then took her hand again. “I’m sorry. I really am—”
“I’m sorry, too. Because I ran. We could have had this fight days ago. And maybe I’d be able to sleep.” Her smile was hesitant. “I haven’t really slept in weeks. I don’t know about you.”
“No. No, I haven’t either.” Longer than a few weeks, he thought, though there were a few nights when she’d first stayed at the penthouse, when he’d been able to catch a few hours because she was safe down the hall.
“So I’m sorry, and you’re sorry,” Elizabeth said slowly, “why does it feel like this doesn’t fix anything? Like there’s still this weight on my shoulders I can’t lift.” Tears shimmered again, clinging to her lashes. “Is it too late?”
23 All this time (so many signs)
I never learned to read your mind (so many signs)
I couldn’t turn things around (I couldn’t turn things around)
What would she do if he said yes? If he thought maybe it was best they stayed friends, or worse, if he said it was just too much? Could she change his mind? Did she even have the right to?
“A few days ago, when you’d left,” Jason said, his words halting, painful, “I thought maybe it was for the best. For the last few months, it’s just been—”
“One terrible thing after another,” she muttered. “I know. I know. I started it. I know I did. It would all be different if I could have just—” Done what? “Thrown your phone into the damn harbor.”
Instead of looking annoyed at that, his smile was genuine, and quick, and it lightened that weight just a little. “Yeah, maybe I could have accidentally ran over it,” he admitted. “Or told Carly and Sonny to fix their own problems.”
Remembering it had been Carly’s call that day of the blackout—that he’d left for her — Elizabeth nodded. How different everything could have been, she thought.
“So we’re both sorry,” she said again, “but being sorry is only part of it. We have to forgive each other. I, um, I don’t know that I have as much to forgive. I mean, I was angry about Sonny, but you explained your side, and I’m okay with that. But can you forgive me?”
24 ‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (you never gave a warning sign)
She was right. Offering apologies wouldn’t do any good if they weren’t accepted. And could he honestly accept her apology this time and let go of the swirl of hurt that he’d let fester so deep he hadn’t realized it until she’d pried it out of him. Had that been part of his anxiety and uncertainty in approaching her? Had he avoided her thinking she might have truly decided to give up on him? Or that he’d have to admit how hurt he’d been—
“That night in your studio, when we kissed,” Jason said, and her cheeks pinked up. “If I had come over the next day and kissed you again, would that have changed things?”
She tipped her head. “What?”
“Or after the crypt. When you came home, and I was showing you how to swing the bat, I wanted to kiss you that day. Every day,” Jason continued. “I should have told you how scared I was when you were missing. When I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you. If I’d told you I loved you, would that have changed things?”
She stared at him, her lips parted, her hands going slack in his, and he thought maybe he’d gone too far.
“What if I told you,” Elizabeth said, “that day you bought me the baseball bat, I wanted you to kiss me. And that I wasn’t trying very hard to learn because I liked your arms around me. Would you have kissed me?” Her voice faltered. “Would you have stayed?” She smiled tremulously. “What if I’d told you I loved you? I don’t know if you can believe that—”
Jason shoved back his chair, and she was startled into silence. He never let go of their hands, using them to drag her up from the chair and into his arms, kissing her the way he had that night in the studio, all the pent up frustration and want and desire spilling out—
Elizabeth dropped her hands to dive into his hair, her nails scraping against the hairline at his neck. He yanked her hard against him, and she gasped, sucking in air, his mouth trailing down her jawline.
Their foreheads rested against each other, their mingled breath heavy, warm against their skin. “If you’d told me that,” Jason murmured, “I’d never have left.”
“Then I’ll say it every day. I should have said it every day since you came back.” Her fingers curled into the collar as his shirt, her eyes searching his. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”
“We won’t. We won’t,” he promised her, dropping his head into the crook of her shoulder, the feel of her in his arms. All the words they’d left unsaid — how close they’d come to just walking away. “We won’t,” Jason promised against, cupping her face, brushing his lips against hers once, twice, softly, but she used her grip on his shirt to bring him in again for another long, lazy kiss.
“Can we go home?” she asked, tremulously.
“Yeah,” he managed, his voice almost inaudible, reverent as he kissed her again—he couldn’t stop himself, sliding the tips of fingers through her hair, down her soft skin. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace ‘Cause when I’d fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet
January 2003
At least they hadn’t been in bed.
It was the only consolation, she told herself, though of course now that she’d thought it — the image was in her head, so it no longer brought any comfort.
None of it did.
Elizabeth flipped the chair, rested it on the table, gripping the legs tightly. Such a moron. Such a stupid, stupid little girl. Mistake after mistake after mistake — just how much grace was Jason supposed to give her?
Hadn’t he tried to talk to her after she’d walked out of the penthouse? Hadn’t he forgiven her after every terrible, awful thing she’d done last summer? Hadn’t he forgiven her for everything she’d put him through with Lucky—
The one time—the one time—she’d been in a position to show him a single ounce of understanding and empathy, she’d failed. She’d had perfection on a silver platter and thrown it in his face.
Her body began to tremble first, a slithering of rage and fury and shame spiraling up from her toes, skin tingling—
And with a broken sob, Elizabeth hurled the chair still in her hands towards the door, shattering the glass, jagged shards falling to the ground, glittering like broken diamonds on the tiled floor.
She stared blindly at it for a long moment, then raised her eyes to the broken glass, slowly walking towards it. There was a long piece still stuck in one of the panes. Elizabeth gripped it in both of her fingers, tugged it out.
“Well, that didn’t solve anything,” she muttered, sighing and dropping it to the ground. The anger had burned itself out, and all that was left was numbness. Nothing. Nothing, that’s all that was left.
And now she’d have a broken door to deal with, so that wasn’t great. Maybe Bobbie and Mike would understand she’d gone a little crazy.
She went to the kitchen to retrieve a broom and dustbin, and when she came back, she saw a familiar figure in the courtyard scrutinizing the door, a cell phone in his hand.
Well, at least he wasn’t in bed with that blonde bitch right now, Elizabeth’s traitorous mind thought.
Shut up.
“Elizabeth?” Jason’s voice carried through the locked door. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” She twisted the bolt, then pulled it open. “Um, there was just—there was an accident.”
Jason stepped over the threshold, glanced down at the chair next to the door, then lifted his eyes to hers. “An accident,” he repeated.
“Yeah.” She stepped back, biting her lip. “I accidentally let go of the chair when I was still holding it.” She carefully swept up the shards of glass. “I need to go find cardboard and call Mike.”
“You’re all alone here?” Jason frowned, looked around the diner. “Where’s the rest of the staff?”
“Gone. I took my time cleaning up. It’s really fine. I—” Elizabeth drew her brows together, looked at him oddly. “What are you doing here? We’ve been closed for a half hour.”
“I was passing by. I heard the glass.” Jason shoved his hands in his pocket. “Do I get to ask why you threw a chair at the door?”
“No,” Elizabeth said shortly. She went into the kitchen, dumped the trash, then found a piece of cardboard and some tape. She’d hoped Jason would take the hint, but he was still in the diner, his phone at his ear.
“Yeah, I’ll hang out until you get here. Thanks.” Jason slid the phone back in his pocket. “I have a guy coming to handle that.”
“I didn’t ask you do anything. I can call Mike. He can take it out of my paycheck.” She gestured at the door. “So you can go back to whatever you were doing.” Or whoever, she thought bitterly.
Jason’s mouth tightened. “So we’re back to this?”
“Back to what?” she asked dully, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about. Elizabeth returned to the counter, pretending to look through receipts. Now that he’d arranged to have the door fixed, there was no chance he’d leave.
Why had he shown up tonight of all nights? Was it the universe making her pay for a lifetime of sins?
“It’s been months—”
“You want to know why I threw the chair?” Elizabeth snapped, jerking her head up. “Because I tried to do someone a favor today, and instead I got slapped in the face. Metaphorically speaking. And I have no one to blame but myself for being a stupid little girl who can’t do anything right. I didn’t ask you to fix the damn door, Jason. I made this problem, I’ll handle it.”
Jason exhaled slowly, nodded. “I’ll have him send you a bill then. But I’m not leaving the door broken overnight when I can handle it. Bobbie and Mike have always been good to me. I’d do it for any waitress who worked here.”
Any waitress. Because that’s all that she was now. Just another waitress. Her throat tightened, her eyes stung. No one’s fault but her own. She’d made it this way. He was being nice, and she was being an ungrateful bitch.
God, he was so lucky to be done with her.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said after a moment. “I’m not in a good mood. It’s not fair to take it out on you. Especially since you didn’t do a-anything to deserve it.” Her lip trembled, and she had to look down, staring hard at her bundled receipts.
“I don’t want you to be sorry—” His voice was closer now, and the pressure was building behind her eyes—he needed to go, she had to make him go.
Elizabeth raised her head, a pithy, smart remark about Courtney on her lips, but it died when she saw him looking at her the way he always had. And she simply had no defense for that. The first tear slid down her cheek. “Well, too bad. Because sorry is all I have to offer.” Her voice broke. “Because I am, you know. Sorry.”
His hands gripped the edge of the counter, and something in his eyes changed, a twitch in his cheek. “Elizabeth.”
“It’s too late for that, I know. I’m really good at knowing when I was wrong about three months too late. That’s how long it took last year.” She brushed at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “After the park. Three months. And it’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I know. Because I know.” She met his eyes, even as her voice faltered. “I know it’s too late, and it’s okay. It really is.” She wanted it to be okay. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”
He swallowed hard, opened his mouth, but then closed it. “I’m on trial for murder in a few weeks,” he offered, and she let out a choked sob mixed with a giggle.
“Oh, well, yeah, I didn’t think about that. Fair enough.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s all I want, you know. You deserve that. To be happy with…someone who deserves you.” Her smile was wobbly. “Finally, right?”
Jason grimaced, started around the counter. “How did you—”
“I found out on my own,” she added. “I know—I know you can’t—that no one can know. Because of the trial. And Brenda. I won’t say anything. I’m not saying anything now.”
“There’s—I mean, there’s something to know,” Jason admitted. “But it’s not what you think—” He grimaced, looked away. “I didn’t think you’d find out.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What?”
“Listen—”
There was a knock at the door, and they both turned to find one of Jason’s men there—she recognized him from the warehouse. And there was someone with him. “That must be your repair guy.” She cleared her throat, took a step back. “Thanks, I mean. Now that he’s here, you can go, right?”
“Hey. Can we talk about this—” Jason snagged her arm as she passed him, and she looked back at him. “We can talk, can’t we?”
“What’s left to talk about?” she asked. “I told you, I’m happy for you.”
“Then why are you crying and throwing chairs at doors?” he asked, his voice a bit rougher. He stepped closer and she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes. “We’ll talk. The door will get fixed. And I-I can walk you home.”
“I don’t know—” She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she managed. “For either of us. Or for the people outside that door.”
“I don’t care about them—”
“That’s not true,” she said gently, and he sighed. “Jason—”
The knock came again, and this time he released her, but his longer legs carried him more quickly to the door. “Hey, sorry. Paulie, you can stay while he fixes it, can’t you?” he asked.
The guard raised his brows. “Uh, okay. Sure.”
“Good. Lock up when you’re done.” He looked back to Elizabeth. “Go get your things. I’ll take you home.”
She nearly argued with him, but it felt different with the strangers in the diner. If they worked with Jason, then Mike wouldn’t mind if she left them here to lock up.
Silently, she went into the kitchen, found her jacket and bag, then followed Jason into the courtyard. “Jason, this really isn’t necessary. And it’s in public—”
“I’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Jason said.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but when they’re putting you in the electric chair, don’t blame me,” she muttered, stalking towards the street.
“New York hasn’t executed anyone since 1963,” he said dryly, falling into step next to her.
“Trust you to know that.”
They reached her building quickly, and Elizabeth reluctantly climbed the stairs to her studio, hearing his boots echoing in the stairwell behind her. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the deadbolt and the two other locks he’d had installed after her kidnapping.
“Well, I’m here,” she said, almost lamely. She stripped off her coat. The moment had passed, she thought. He’d realize it, say his goodbyes, and they’d go back to the way things had been.
Jason closed the door, took a deep breath. “Zander.” He looked at her. “I could never understand what you were doing with him.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” she muttered, folding her arms, and glaring at the floor. “Is there a reason you’re bringing up one of my worst mistakes? Because you could have left me at the diner—”
“I understand it now.”
She closed her mouth, stared at him. “What?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable, and looked away. “I wanted you to look at me. To…just give me a minute to explain things. After that night at the penthouse,” he added. Her cheeks flooded with shame. “And you didn’t. And it wasn’t exactly fun to carry that around. I knew I’d hurt you. I knew—” Jason grimaced, shook his head. “And maybe I deserved a little of that—I know I lied—but it was just too hard. And it hurt too much to keep trying. Not that I was trying very hard,” he admitted.
“It was more than I did,” Elizabeth said softly, and he offered a half smile.
“Maybe. It hurt too much,” he repeated. “And it was easier…with someone else. Someone without all that history.”
Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Right. I get that. You really didn’t need to come all the way over here to tell me Courtney makes you happier than me—” She stalked past him, started to twist the deadbolt.
“I never said that.”
Her fingers stilled on the bolt, and she glanced at him over her shoulder suspiciously. “Then—”
“Were you happier with Zander?” he added, and she sighed, looked back at the door, staring at it hard. “But it was easier with him, wasn’t it?”
“Well, he didn’t answer his phone and run off to Carly every five minutes,” she bit out, then exhaled slowly as the shame spiraled through her. “I didn’t have to wonder how he felt about me. If it was real. Or in my head. If maybe I was just seeing things that weren’t there.” Tears clung to her lashes again. “So, yeah, it was easier with him. But it didn’t matter. Because he wasn’t you.”
Jason gently took her by the elbow, and she turned so that they faced each other again. “It’s easier with her,” he said, and Elizabeth sucked in a harsh breath. “But it’s not better. She’s not you.”
“Oh, God—” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m dreaming. I’m hallucinating. I fell into the harbor or something—and now I’m dead—”
“Hey.” His voice was soft, his touch gentle as he covered her hands and pulled them away, holding onto them, lacing their fingers together. “I’m right here, Elizabeth. And I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”
“How can you even look at me after everything I’ve done to hurt you?” she managed. “Jason—”
“Because it’s you. And I get to decide who I look at.” He released her hand to curl a finger beneath her chin, lifting it slightly. “So do you want me to leave?”
“No.” The word was nearly inaudible as it escaped her lips, but he heard it and smiled, and then her lips twitched. “But you should probably go. Your wife is at home, isn’t she? And there’s that murder trial—how would it look if someone told Scott Baldwin you were seen leaving my studio?”
“Then I guess I have to make sure I’m not seen.” Jason was grinning even as he lowered his head to kiss her smiling mouth, knocking the smirk right off her face.
I want you to know I’m a mirrorball I can change everything about me to fit in You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten
March 2001
The white silk was just barely visible beneath a newspaper he’d carelessly tossed on the top of the dresser after she’d made a hasty exit that day.
Or maybe it hadn’t been careless at all, Jason thought, sliding yesterday’s edition of the Port Charles Herald aside to reveal the gloves Elizabeth had peeled from her arms the day before. She’d come to him, dressed like a character from one of the old movies Robin had loved to watch — the strapless black dress that revealed more than he’d ever let himself think about, the tiara in her air, the false diamonds glinting in the dim lights—
The layers of makeup she’d begged him to remove—
And the gloves she’d pulled off when he’d hesitated too long in washing her face. She’d tugged them, sliding them down her arms, revealing even more soft skin he knew would feel as silky as the gloves—
Jason picked them up now, sliding his fingers across the material, knowing now that he was right about that, but the lingering frustration that he didn’t know how her lips would taste—
His fingers clenched around the gloves, holding them tight, as he remembered their last conversation, her refusal to see what had building between them for weeks. Longer. Months. Before he’d ever left Port Charles in the first place.
If the soft knock at the door had come any later, Jason knew he would have been able to tuck away his irritation, to talk himself out of the frustration that came less from Elizabeth pulling away and more from how much he’d wanted to pull her close and take the choice out of her hands.
But it didn’t, and Jason knew almost before he’d yanked the door open, who he’d find on the other side.
She stood there, her hand still raised, maybe she’d meant to knock again. Her hair was loose now, a jumble of soft curls falling down around her cheeks. She wore makeup again, but not as heavy as the day before, her lips painted a dark red and not the soft candy pink.
“What?” Jason demanded, almost harshly, angrily, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back, just looked at him. Maybe she understood, he thought, maybe she had admitted to herself somewhere deep inside that something had almost happened, and it wasn’t fair to keep coming back to him like this—
“I have to return the gloves to Laura,” Elizabeth said finally. Her eyes dropped to his hands, his fist curled around one of them, the knuckles almost white. She lifted her gaze to his. “I quit.”
“W-What?” Jason stepped back reflexively, so stunned by the words, but she thought he’d meant to admit her entry so she came forward and he kept backing up because away was safer, away meant he wouldn’t do anything stupid like grab her by the waist, and—
“I quit,” Elizabeth repeated. She didn’t look away from him, kicked his door closed with the heel of her boot, then cleared her throat. “I told you—I told you Lucky and I would go to Italy with my modeling money. And I heard those words. I heard myself say them. And they were awful. I don’t want to be a model.”
His chest eased slightly, because at least that was something. The first honest words she’d spoken in weeks. “Okay.”
“And I’m angry at myself for not telling Lucky no. For not saying it. At Lucky for not listening.” Tears clung to her lashes. “And I’m furious with you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “What did I do?”
“You came home.” Her voice faltered. “You came home and you made me see. I didn’t know I wasn’t happy. I didn’t know that I hated my life and everything in it. I didn’t know I was miserable. I thought it was just how things were. And then you came home. And you came to the studio. And you gave me the glass, and you talked to me, and you listened, and now I know it doesn’t have to be that way, and it was just so much easier when you weren’t here.”
“Easier to be miserable? Is that what you want?”
“No. No. But—” She closed her eyes, and a tear made a slow journey down her cheek, to the tip of her jaw, leaving a streak to mark its descent. “No. But it’s so hard to throw away dreams. A miracle. I got a miracle, and I don’t want it.” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her mouth, turned away. “What kind of person does that make me? He talks about how he thought about me all the time. How thinking about me got him through being kidnapped.”
Any lingering frustration faded, and Jason saw for the first time the weight that had been put on her shoulders. “Elizabeth.”
“I don’t want to go to Italy with Lucky. That’s what I thought. When I heard myself say it, I knew I’d never go. Because I don’t want him.” She looked at him, tears still clinging to those dark lashes. “He was right to say I shouldn’t see you. Because he knew before I could even let myself say it. I don’t want him, Jason. I don’t love him anymore.”
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t produce a single word. He stood there like a block of concrete, frozen.
“And if I hadn’t come here yesterday—if you’d never touched me or looked at me the way you do—” Elizabeth came towards him then, and Jason couldn’t look away, couldn’t think of anything else. “I wanted you to kiss me. And you didn’t.”
“I—I wanted to,” he finally managed. “I didn’t want to scare you.” Or have her flee from the room, never to return.
Elizabeth reached forward, took the glove he still held in one hand and gently tugged. He released it. She tossed it to the side, to the dresser where its twin still lay.
“I was afraid yesterday,” she said, tilting her chin up. She swallowed. “Because I don’t think I could have kissed you and gone back to my life. I think it would change everything, and I didn’t know if I was ready for that.”
He raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed her jaw. “Are you ready now?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. The corners of her lips curved up just slightly. “But I can’t go one more minute without finding out.”
He dipped his head low, bringing their mouths closer, until their breaths mingled. His thumb swept over the dip in her chin, and then he kissed her.
Sweet tea in the summer Cross my heart, won’t tell no other And though I can’t recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We’ll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs Our love lasts so long
July 1987
Steven Lars Webber was mortified to the bone, his cheeks flaming red, his brow scrunched up, fists clenched at his side. “You’re a no good liar, Lizzie,” he bit out with every ounce of rage the twelve-year-old could summon. “And Gram’s going to be so mad you followed me!”
All he’d wanted to do was play with his summer best friend, running through the patch of woods, pretending to be Rambo, running from the bad guys. But then there’d been a sharp cry, a crack of wood, and now here he stood, in the middle of a clearing, with his youngest sister a crumbled, sobbing mess, and embarrassing him in front of his friend.
He jabbed a finger at her. “And stop crying! That doesn’t work on me!”
His baby sister inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together, holding back the choked sobs because she idolized her brother and he wanted her to stop crying, and maybe if she did, he wouldn’t tell their mother, but oh, it hurt so bad—
“S-sorry, I just—” The words were stuttered out between huge gulps of air as the six-year-old sat crumbled on the ground, her knee bleeding. Her hands were scraped, dirt packed underneath her fingernails. Her brown hair had begun the day tied back into twin braids dangling down her back, but one of the bands had fallen out. Half her hair was tangled, and the other braid wasn’t in much better condition, curly tendrils poking out.
Steven sighed, looked at the boy next to him with derision. “You’re so lucky you don’t have sisters, man. They’re the worst.”
“You’re lucky you’re the oldest,” the boy said, but he knelt down in front of the crying girl. “Lizzie, right?”
Elizabeth nodded, then swiped her arm across her face to wipe away her tears. “T-That’s w-what they c-call me but I don’t like it—”
“Oh, cripes, Lizzie, this isn’t the time—” Steven rolled his eyes. “No one cares—”
She dipped her head, the sobs she tried to hold in trembling her tiny frame.
“Dude, chill out. You keep making her cry,” his friend said, whacking him in the leg. “Go find my brother. Tell him to get the first aid kit. And water.”
“What if he tells on us?” Steven demanded.
“He won’t. AJ’s my brother,” the boy told Elizabeth. “My older brother. He won’t say anything if I tell him not to.”
“Sisters,” Steven said, but jogged off back towards the house.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I ruined your fun.”
The boy shrugged and grinned. “Blood is cool, and I’m going to be a doctor, so I can fix this.” He looked at her knee, made a face. “It’s not that bad. This is your first summer with your grandparents, right?”
“Y-Yes. I’m old enough, Mom said.” She sniffled again. “Because she and Dad have more important things to do so I can be a pain to my grandparents for a change.”
“I’m Jason.” He stuck out his hand and she frowned at it, confused. “You shake it,” he added, with a grin that wasn’t mean or snide. Not like Steven and Sarah.
“I know.” Her lips pressed together in a mutinous line. “I’m not a baby.” She shook it. “I’m Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth,” Jason repeated. “Do you like Port Charles?”
“I like my Grampy,” she said in a small voice. “He’s nice. But—” she shrugged. “Steven and Sarah don’t like me. I’m only one year younger than Sarah, but they act like I’m a baby.”
“I wish I had a little sister,” Jason said, but she didn’t believe him. He was nice enough to lie.
“I wish I was the oldest,” she muttered. “Being the youngest sucks. No one lets me do anything.”
Steven ran back into the clearing, then dumped the water bottle and first aid at Jason’s feet, before dropping to the ground, sitting cross-legged. “AJ said you owe him.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Jason twisted the cap from the water, then poured it over Elizabeth’s knee. She hissed when it stung, tears welling up again.
“Oh, you’re going to cry again.” Steven sighed as if weighed down by the burden of her. “You always ruin everything, Lizzie. If you weren’t such a pain, maybe Mom and Dad wouldn’t have made you come with us this year. But they don’t want you either.”
Her lip trembled and she lowered her head, tucking her chin against her chest. The truth stung more than the water against her banged up knee.
“You’re such a dick,” Jason said, flatly, all the friendliness gone from his tone. Steven frowned at him, and Elizabeth’s head snapped back up, her blue eyes wide at the bad word. She’d only ever heard her dad say that word, when he’d talked about someone at work.
“Dude,” Steven said, offended. “What did I do?”
“She’s your little sister, man. She’s hurt.” Jason unwrapped a bandage and pressed it against the wound. “You’re supposed to take care of her.”
“Oh, you know so much,” Steven retorted. “You don’t have a sister—”
“So?” Jason challenged. “I know a dick when I see one.”
Steven scowled, scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, well, you’re—you’re an asshole!”
Oh, no. She’d ruined everything — now Steven was fighting with his best friend and he’d be so mad at her.
“Don’t fight.” Elizabeth climbed to her feet. “Don’t fight. I’m going. I’m sorry. I’ll go and I’ll never follow you again. It was my fault.” She sniffled, wiped her dirty hands against her denim pants. “I’m sorry. Don’t fight. I just wanted to play. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jason assured her, then he looked at her brother. “Did she?”
Steven clearly wanted to disagree, but he made a face, looked at Elizabeth. “No,” he muttered. “It’s fine, Lizzie. I just don’t want to get in trouble for you getting hurt. Gram will be mad. You look like you lost a fight.”
“I’ll go home and sneak in the back way,” Elizabeth promised. “A-and I’ll clean up. No one ever has to know.”
“IF you tell—” Steven threatened.
“Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” Elizabeth said solemnly, crossing her chest. “I promise.” She looked at Jason, smiling shyly. “Thank you for helping me. Bye!”
And then she bolted, running towards the edge of the woods, and was gone after another minute.
“Sisters,” Steven muttered, but his ire had faded. He looked back at Jason, calmly cleaning up his first aid kit, not leaving any trash behind. “You’re still an asshole,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. “But you don’t got sisters, so you don’t know how they are. Everything is always your fault because you’re supposed to know when they’re being dumb and stop them. It’s annoying.”
“And you’re still a dick who made her cry,” Jason said, getting to his feet. “Some brother.”
“Oh, whatever. I hope you get a sister one day, and you see how much they ruin everything.” Furious, Steven stomped in the same direction his sister had gone.
Steven and his sisters went back to Colorado a month later, and when they came back the next summer, Steven didn’t tell Jason he was coming. And they never hung out again. Which was awful because Jason was rich and had a pool and tennis courts and woods and so many cool things to play with. But Steven had his pride. And he never forgave his stupid sister for ruining his friendship with the wealthier boy.
But Elizabeth went home that day, snuck into her grandparents’ house, and managed to clean herself up. No one ever found out she’d left. She went into her room—it was so nice in Port Charles, she didn’t have to share with her stupid sister—and she found a notepad from her grandfather’s office.
She doodled Jason’s name in hearts on most of the pages, practiced writing her name as Mrs. Jason Quartermaine, and Elizabeth Quartermaine. But then she got so embarrassed, she tore all the pages to shreds and dumped them in the trash, shoving them all to the bottom.
By the time she moved to Port Charles with her sister, and befriended Emily Quartermaine, she’d forgotten most of that day in the woods. She’d only been six that day, of course, and sometimes you forgot your first crush.
Jason never gave much thought to Steven Webber or his little sister after that summer. His parents were divorcing again, and they were sending him to boarding school, along with his older brother. And then, of course, there was the accident that made him into Jason Morgan, so he never gave any thought to the girl his sister was friends with.
But then one day in August, he went to the boxcar to let Lucky Spencer to let him know he was out of a job unless he wanted to work at the garage Jason was opening. And Lucky introduced him to his girlfriend, Elizabeth Webber with big blue eyes and hair that curled at the ends.
She’d been so nervous meeting him, and her cheeks had flushed when she’d asked about whether Lucky was safe with Jason changing jobs. He’d smiled at her, with reassurance, and she’d smiled back, and it was the strangest feeling for both of them—
But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time ‘Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine ‘Cause you were never mine
August 2006
Her smile was bright and wide when she saw him at the top of the stairs, and though he’d been on his way to the warehouse, Jason couldn’t stop himself. Drawn to that smile like a moth to a flame, he sat next to her.
“Hey,” he said, and her smile widened. Maybe she was remembering the last time they’d seen each other. When she’d left his penthouse after spending the night together.
“Hey,” Elizabeth echoed. “It’s been a few days.”
Too many, Jason thought, but he didn’t say that. “How are you?”
“Good. Good. I called Alexis. She filed for divorce.” The smile dimmed slightly, and those beautiful eyes looked out over the lake. “Lucky was in the apartment when I got home that morning. He said he wanted to get help for the pills.”
Jason squinted a little. “But that’s good, isn’t it?”
“For him. But I’ve known people with a drug addiction. You’ve known people mixed up with drugs. Do they all have affairs?” Elizabeth asked, and Jason sighed, looked away. “That’s what I thought. I know the drugs lowered his inhibitions, but that just means he wanted to sleep with her. I mean, we were drinking that night. Do we blame the alcohol?”
His head snapped up, and he scowled. “I wasn’t drunk.”
“Neither was I.” And now she was smiling again. She held a cup from Kelly’s in her hand, played with the top of the straw. “And I’m not sorry.”
“Me either.” He stretched his arm along the top of the bench. “Did he take the news okay?”
“He’s angry, but I just reminded him he was having an affair with his boss’s barely legal stepdaughter, so if he wanted to make problems, I’d make them right back.” Her lips curved into a smirk. “Do you know how good it felt to say that? Imagine, all these months, he’s been second-guessing me, accusing me of having an affair with Patrick, and he had the nerve to blame me.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, I heard him blaming me again for the pills, and I just—I stepped outside myself, and I looked at him, and I thought — is this who I want to be with? This…person…who always blames me when something goes wrong?” She shook her head.
It was refreshing to see her talking about Lucky Spencer this way, a jackass who’d never deserved half the love and affection she’d lavished on him over the years, Jason thought. But he knew not to trust it. Lucky would probably talk her around in a few months. He’d stay clean, and remind her of promises she’d made when she’d been young, and manipulate her back into his life. Just like he always did.
But he’d enjoy it while it lasted. “I’m sorry you’re going through that—”
“Are you?” Elizabeth slid a suspicious look from beneath her lashes. “You’re a better person than me. Nothing’s happening now that wasn’t a problem the last time I was with Lucky. I thought he’d changed. Grown up. But he’s got an inferiority complex that I can’t spend the rest of my life fixing. He’s going to have to figure out how to feel like a man without me patting his head.”
She sipped her drinking, wrapping her lips around the straw, and it made him think of other things— “What?” he asked, distracted when he heard his name, lifting his gaze from her mouth to her eyes which were sparkling, suggesting she knew exactly what he was thinking.
“I was saying thank you. That night—if I hadn’t gone to you, if I’d just gone to my grandmother’s, I might have changed my mind. I might have let Lucky explain himself and use the pills to blame everything.”
“I didn’t do anything—” Jason stopped when she just lifted her brows. “If you hadn’t come to me that night, I would have finished the tequila bottle and put my fist through the wall,” he admitted. “But instead….”
“Instead…” She lifted the straw to her lips again and he had to look away this time. “I was thinking that it felt out of time and place. You know, like we were in this little bubble that existed outside everything in our real lives. No cell phones to interrupt, no one living across the hall anymore.” She sighed. “Just you and me. I wish it had always been like that.”
“Me, too.”
“Why wasn’t it?” Elizabeth looked at him now, some of that sparkle and light fading. “Why did we wait so long to get it right? Why does our timing suck so bad?” she asked, echoing his words from that night.
Jason considered his answer carefully, because he wanted to get it right. And he wanted to understand it, just like she did. Why, if they’d had all that inside of them, why couldn’t they have had it years ago when they’d both been free?
“I think maybe we didn’t trust each other,” Jason said finally, and she bit her lip. “I didn’t trust you to stay, and you didn’t trust that I cared about you. And we had our reasons. I answered my phone too much.”
“And I thought I needed words more than actions.” Her eyes were sad now, and he didn’t like that at all. “I thought that if you didn’t say it, you didn’t feel it. So I ran towards anyone who would tell me. And it was always a mistake.”
“I know you said…” Jason hesitated, knowing he was putting himself in a position to be hurt, but if he didn’t ask, the answer would always be no. “You said that night it was the only night we could spend together. Why?”
Her lips parted, and she gripped the fabric of her skirt tightly. “Because I wanted to say it before you did.”
His voice dropped. “Why did you think I’d say it?”
Their eyes met. “Because you always said it before. You kissed me at Vista Point and walked away. And you told me you wanted to try, and you left me alone. You always left first.”
“I wasn’t going to say it,” Jason told her, and she took a deep breath. “And I don’t want you to say it, either.”
“Jason.”
“It would always be like that. Us. You know that. I didn’t want you to go home. That night. That morning.”
“I didn’t want to go—” Her breath caught, tears clinging her lashes. “What are you saying, Jason?”
“I’m saying what I should have four years ago. We stood in our own way then. Are we going to make the same mistakes again?” Jason reached for her hand, laced their fingers together the way she’d done that night. “Or do you want to find out what happens next?”
“I want—” Her smile returned, tremulous and hopeful, and he knew his own mirrored it. “I want to get it right this time. Just you and me. The way it always should have been.”
I’ve been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could’ve followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don’t quite know what to say But I’m here in your doorway
April 2001
He hadn’t brought much with him to Port Charles — everything he owned fit into one duffel bag. He’d never really accumulated a lot of things — almost everything could be bought if you needed it, so it never bothered him to leave behind clothes or books.
Clearing out the drawers at Jake’s wouldn’t take long, Jason thought, maybe five-ten minutes, and that was only because he wanted to save Jake the trouble of cleaning the room. And he needed to go now—
There was a knock at his door, and Jason muttered something under his breath. He hoped it wasn’t something he had to handle. The leads on the bomb sent to Sonny at the party would go cold fast—
He yanked open the door, then grimaced. “I don’t have time for this,” Jason snapped, and the harsh tone—one he’d never used with her — had Elizabeth stepping back, her eyes widened. He winced, then took a deep breath. “I don’t have time,” he repeated. Not to hear her say whatever it was she was going to say. Especially if she said Lucky’s name one more time—he might actually put his fist through a wall.
“Oh. Oh. I understand. Um—” She looked past him, and he followed her gaze to the duffle on the bed. “You’re leaving.”
And because that was true, because he was going to cut himself loose from whatever insanity they’d been living for the last two months, Jason stepped back, holding the door open. “You have the five minutes it’ll take for me to pack to say whatever you came to say.”
“I—”
Jason opened a drawer, but in his frustration, yanked it too hard and it fell, spilling the small collection of shirts and jeans to the floor. Elizabeth stooped to help him, but he held out his hand.
“What did you want?” Jason repeated. With both hands, he gathered it all, then dumped it into the bag. “Elizabeth—”
“I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.” Her lower lip trembled slightly, but she sucked it in, biting down hard. “I got halfway home, and I realized how badly I handled all of this, and I needed to say I was sorry—” the words were tumbling out faster than he could almost follow, “—and that you deserved so much better than the way I’ve treated you. It’s just that I was really confused and it’s not exactly easy—I mean, I had—neither of you have ever lied to me before and it was all so insane, you know? A knife—how could—” Her eyes were shimmering with tears. “It was just too much, and I think my brain shut down. I’m sorry.”
Jason exhaled slowly, some of his irritation fading. “I’m not doing this anymore,” he said, carefully. “I know I said I’d always be there, and I will, but right now, I can’t. I can’t—” He looked at her, at her beautiful eyes, hating that he was part of the reason she was so upset. “I can’t until I can figure out how to just be your friend. ”
He cleared his last drawer, with the socks and briefs. Elizabeth looked away, her cheeks pinking up.
“Um, but that’s why I came. Because I was wrong. I mean I was right, but I was wrong.” She made a face. “This isn’t coming out right, and I had it in my head, and it made sense in there. But now I’m trying to produce words, and I’m down to my last two minutes, and you’re angry. You should be angry. I was horrible to you. I-I sent you mixed signals, and that’s not fair—”
“Elizabeth—”
“—and maybe I was a little mad, too, because I never thought I’d be that stupid girl who was all about her boyfriend, but that’s exactly what I did. I-I threw away all my dreams for Lucky, for this modeling thing, and he’s running around, lying about you, attacking you—” Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. “And I picked him, so clearly I’m not the brightest, so I don’t even know what you’d want with me in the first place, but that’s not my point.”
Jason stared at her, bewildered. “You have a point?”
“Y-Yes.” She licked her lips. “I’m looking for it. I’ll find it if you can give me an extra minute. I just got distracted because you were so angry, and you should be, but I wasn’t expecting it which just tells you I’m as selfish as everyone says I am, because it’s all been about me, and that’s—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath. “You’re leaving right now, you said.”
“Yes. Or after that extra minute.”
“Okay. Okay. Well, then I’m coming with you.”
Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d heard that wrong. That wasn’t at all what she’d— “What?”
“I mean, unless you changed your mind.” Her cheeks were cherry red, her eyes bright with embarrassment. “You changed your mind. Oh, of course. Right. This is really awkward—”
“Just—wait.” Jason took a minute to collect himself. I’m coming with you. “You came here to say you were sorry and that you’re coming with me.”
“Which is so arrogant of me,” Elizabeth muttered. “To think I could say no, and that you wouldn’t have come to your senses. This is why my mother always told me to think before I leap, but I told you, I got halfway home, and nearly crashed into the back of a bus because it just slammed in my head how stupid I was, and so I went to Lucky so I could tell him, and that took longer than I wanted because he was really annoying—”
“You told Lucky,” Jason repeated, mystified.
“And I’m never going to be able to go back to Kelly’s after this because he’s going to know you changed your mind, and I’ll be the dumb girl who threw away Jason Morgan and forgot to check if the offer was still good before breaking up with her boyfriend over it—oof—” Elizabeth’s ramble came to an abrupt stop when Jason backed her up against the door and kissed her.
He didn’t mean to do it, but she’d kept talking, and he’d always thought about cutting off one of her rambles with a kiss, wondering if she’d pick up where she left off when he let her go—
And she’d already told Lucky.
Elizabeth’s hands slid up his chest, curling into his t-shirt to drag him closer. Panting when he finally released her, she looked at him with a dazed expression. “You kissed me.”
Instead of answering, he kissed her again, slower, and she melted against him, making him rethink the hasty exit because there was a bed behind them—No.
Jason pulled back. “I need to go,” he told her.
“I know. That’s why I came here. So I can go with you.”
Jason leaned his forehead against hers. He couldn’t take her with him right now. Could he? But what if he left her here and Lucky guilted her into changing her mind? “If I take you,” Jason said slowly, and her eyes lit up, “If I take you, you have to do what I say and stay where I put you. At first. I have to do something for Sonny. It’ll take a week. Maybe more. And you can’t go if you won’t do what I tell you.”
“You can trust me,” Elizabeth said. “I mean, maybe my credibility is a little shot after the last few weeks, but that was personal and I fixed that. Mostly. I think I did. You kissed me and you’re talking about taking me with you, so it sounds like I did —”
“You fixed it,” Jason confirmed, and was rewarded with a grin — one of her smiles that lit up her whole face. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled like that. “And I know I can trust you.”
“Okay. So finish packing, and we’ll go. I’ll leave a message for my grandmother.” Elizabeth pushed away from the door.
“Don’t you want to pack anything?” Jason asked, zipping the duffle.
She opened the door, and leaned into the hallway, retrieving a backpack stuffed to the brim. “I figured I’d leave it out here so if you said no, the humiliation wouldn’t be complete.”
She’d already packed. She’d broken up with Lucky before she’d arrived. “Are you sure about this?”
“Mostly. I know I need a change,” Elizabeth said, her smile fading slightly. “And if I stay here, I’ll just slide right back into the same old things. And I’ll be miserable in a few months. Maybe you’ll get annoyed with me after a few weeks—”
“Not possible,” he said, with a quick shake of his head. He lifted his bag, looped it over his shoulder, then reached for her bag. “But any time you change your mind, I’ll make sure you get back.”
This entry is part 10 of 17 in the series folklore
And you wanna scream Don’t call me “kid” Don’t call me “baby” Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors You know I can’t see with anyone else
February 2001
The alley was bitterly cold, their breaths little puffs of air, and yet, all she could feel inside of herself was more ice. It seeped in from the pores of her skin, down into the marrow of her bones, until she was frozen inside and out.
They stood on either side of his bike, but it might as well have been the Grand Canyon. She’d done the hard part — she’d told him that they couldn’t see each other anymore. And yet, here they stood, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, and somehow this felt like the worst part.
She’d told him her decision, and now she had to go inside and make it real.
She licked her lips. “Thank you for the ride,” Elizabeth said softly.
He looked at her then, his beautiful blue eyes unreadable. Her heart was pounding so fast and loud she could hear it in her ears. “Sure,” Jason replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
The exchange finally dislodged her feet and she started past him, towards the back door of Kelly’s. But his hand snagged her elbow, and she turned slightly, looked at him. Their eyes met and now she couldn’t look away.
“The statue of the girl,” Elizabeth found herself saying, “was she wearing a long dress or a short dress?”
Jason’s eyes squinted slightly at the inane question, but maybe he understood why she was asking it. Because she needed something—anything—to prolong this moment. “Long,” he said.
“Is she smiling?” Because Elizabeth couldn’t imagine herself ever smiling again, and why did it hurt so badly to walk away from Jason? They were friends, in and out of each other’s lives—why did it feel like she was slicing off a piece of her soul—
Jason looked away. “I don’t know. Why don’t you hike up and see it? Maybe you can go with Lucky.”
Her lungs seized and tears stung. “No—” God no. She’d never take Lucky somewhere Jason had shown her—could never see him there— “I hate this.” The truth slid from her lips before she could stop them.
He looked back at her, his gaze focused, sharp. “Then why are you doing it?”
An excellent question. She reached for the answer she’d given him earlier, but somehow because her boyfriend didn’t like them being friends didn’t answer the question anymore.
Why did Lucky hate Elizabeth having a male friend? He was fine with Nikolas. Because he sees what you won’t say out loud.
She licked her lips. “Because Lucky—because he doesn’t trust me.” She swallowed hard. “He doesn’t trust me.”
“Elizabeth—”
“And he’s right.” Admitting that, God, it was so freeing. The weight lifted from her shoulders, even as the first tear escaped, frozen to her cheek within seconds. “He’s right. Because the idea of never seeing you again, it hurts too much, and it shouldn’t. You’re not supposed to matter this way.”
“Don’t—don’t cry—” Jason stepped towards her, their bodies nearly brushing against each other. “It kills me—” He raised his hand to her cheek, his thumb caressing the trail left by the tears.
She was never quite sure who made the first move, but later, she thought it might have been her. She lifted her chin, leaned in, but he was already tilting his head, and then his mouth was closing over hers. His hand, still on her cheek, slid around to the back of her neck, drawing her in closer. The ice in her veins burned away, leaving nothing but heat and urgency because now that she’d given in to what she’d wanted to do for weeks—
There was a slamming of a door. Jason broke away, and Elizabeth spun around, her eyes wide. The back door to Kelly’s had opened, then slammed shut. Someone had come out, seen them, then run back inside.
Elizabeth exhaled slowly, then looked back at Jason, her pulse racing. Oh, God. She’d done the unthinkable, what she’d only dreamt about—
She touched her lips with the tips of her trembling fingers. “Oh, that was a bad idea,” she breathed.
“Elizabeth—”
“I—I shouldn’t have d-done that—”
“We did that,” Jason said, almost roughly. “You know there’s something between us— it’s why Lucky wanted you to stay away from me.” His blue eyes were hot and impatient. “Are you going to give him what he wants?”
“I—” She swallowed hard. “I should. That’s—that’s what I should want to do, right? Because I promised him, but—” Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “But it’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?” he murmured, caressing her cheek again. She leaned into it, closing her eyes. What would those hands feel like all over—
Her eyes snapped open and she spoke the first words that leapt to mind. “I want to get on your bike and never look back.”
He went to the bike, retrieved the helmet. “Then, let’s go.”
Was it really that easy? Elizabeth wondered. To throw away everything for— She looked at Jason. What was she really throwing away? Maybe it was time to run towards something and not away.
