September 17, 2024

This entry is part 31 of 32 in the series These Small Hours: Book 1

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I’m getting old, and I need something to rely on
So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute, why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So, why don’t we go somewhere only we know?
Somewhere only we know
Somewhere Only We Know, Keane


Friday, October 3, 2008

 Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Cameron’s eyes lit up when he saw his mother on the sofa that afternoon. “Mommy! You’re still downstairs!” He released Jason’s hand and raced towards her.

“Whoa—” Elizabeth smiled, held up her hands, and Cameron halted just by the sofa. “I can give hugs, but you still have to be gentle.”

“Cause of your owie,” Cameron said. He dropped his book bag on the ground, wiggled out of his coat, then came over to perch on the edge of the sofa next to his mother. He wrapped his tiny arms around her neck, and she hugged him, kissed his temple. Behind him, Jason picked up the belongings Cameron had discarded. He set the bag on the desk, then hung up the coat in the closet.

“Where’s Jake?” he asked, unzipping the bag to remove Cameron’s daily green folder. “Is he down for his nap?”

“Yeah, Gram put him down before she went out to lunch with Bobbie.” Elizabeth accepted the folder. “Thanks for grabbing him. The school pick up line is the worst, so I know it probably took forever.”

“It was fine.” Jason folded his arms. “You okay? Do you need anything?”

“No.” Elizabeth bit her lip. Something felt strange. Off, she thought. They were exchanging information politely. Distantly. Almost like Jason wasn’t really there. She winced, tried to sit up a little more. “Um, Gram said she’d be back for dinner, so if there’s somewhere you need to be—”

“No. Not right now.”

“Oh.” So that wasn’t it. Elizabeth opened Cameron’s folder to see the report from his teacher. “Hey, you got a smiley sticker today! That’s so great! Mrs. Wallace says you took a really good nap.”

“Yeah. I don’t like when they wake me up,” Cameron grumbled. “But then we had snacks and Morgan shared his apples.” He furrowed his brow. “Mommy, what’s a coma?”

Elizabeth’s hands stilled as she stared at her son. “What?”

“One of the helpers, she told Morgan she was sorry his daddy was in a coma, and Morgan didn’t know what that meant, but then she said maybe he was with Michael, and that’s Morgan’s brother who got hurt.”

Behind Cameron, Jason grimaced and dug out his phone.

“What did Morgan say?” Elizabeth asked, thinking about that poor little boy who’d already lost a brother, and didn’t even know yet about his father—

“He said thank you very much, but I don’t talk about my daddy. That’s what his daddy told him to say because people always ask him.” Cameron made a face. “No one asks me nothing about my daddy. They sposed to?”

“No. No, they’re absolutely not.” Elizabeth winced and pulled herself up again. Jason pointed at the phone to indicate he’d connected with Carly, and then went towards the kitchen. “And I’m glad Morgan didn’t say anything.” She kissed his cheek. “You want to go play?”

“Yeah.” Cameron headed over for the play area in the corner, and Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet, grimacing but determined. She paused for a moment, her hand braced against the back of the sofa to catch her breath before resuming her task.

She made it to the kitchen by the time Jason was sliding the phone into his pocket. His eyes widened when he saw her in the doorway. He came forward, put an arm around her waist, guided her to sit at the table. She leaned back, keeping pressure off her middle.

“I would have come to you—”

“It’s—” Elizabeth steadied herself. “It’s okay. I don’t have a lot of pain thanks to the medication, but I need to get around or it will just be harder to get the stamina back later. I wanted to talk to you where Cam couldn’t hear. Is Carly okay?”

Jason sighed, sat across from her. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “She didn’t tell Morgan yet. Mostly because she doesn’t know how to tell him. He doesn’t even really understand about Michael.” He looked away, towards the wall. “Why the hell is a teacher doing that? Saying that to him? Don’t they know better?”

“They’re supposed to, but people are human. It’s terrible that Morgan has to memorize a response for something like that.”

“Learned the hard way with Michael,” Jason admitted. He sighed. “Carly said she’d talk to him tonight. Is Cam okay?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t know what those words mean, which is a blessing, I suppose, since that means Morgan didn’t either.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Is…I mean, is that situation changed? He was supposed to have another surgery wasn’t he—”

“No, nothing’s changed.” Jason rose from the table, went to the fridge. “Should I get Jake’s snack ready now—”

“Jason.”

Something in her tone must have broken through, because he stopped, but didn’t look at her. His hand rested on the handle of the fridge, but he didn’t try to open it.

“I know this is how you handle things. You look straight ahead and focus on what needs to be done. I know that. But—” She bit her lip. “You can’t sit in one spot longer than a few minutes. And you can’t look at me.” Her fingers curled in her lap. “I know it’s been a lot, and I was unconscious for most of it—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got everything under control,” Jason said, but he still didn’t turn around or look at her.

“I never doubted that. You’ve always been calm in a crisis, and it helps everyone around you to steady themselves.” Elizabeth hesitated. “But then it’s over, and you move on to the next thing, and that’s all you’ve been doing for more than a year—”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do.” Jason now looked at her for just a moment, then dropped his eyes to the table. “Move forward.”

“Can you at least look at me long enough to tell me you’re really fine?” Elizabeth challenged.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jason said, and now he did look at her, his jaw clenched, and she took an uneasy breath.

“I just—Sonny’s so important to you. Can we talk about it?”

“Sonny’s in a coma. He’s not going to wake up. I can’t do anything about that. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then sighed. This wasn’t the moment either, not with Cameron in the next room and Jake nearing the end of his nap. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue. I’m just frustrated I can’t do more to help. I can’t go to the hospital, I can’t do anything with my boys. I can’t even do anything for Carly to help her with Morgan the way she helped us.”

Jason’s expression eased and he pulled out another chair, sat down. “There’s nothing you could do at the hospital that isn’t already being done,” he said, and she made a face. “Or help Carly tell Morgan about his father. And if you want to help me—”

“Oh, don’t say it—”

“You can let me take you back into the living room or upstairs to lay down until dinner. The boys and I—and your grandmother—we all need you to get better.”

“Fine. Fine. I give up.” She threw up her hand in mock surrender. “I’ll go back to the couch.” She flattened her hand against the table, pushed herself to her feet, but before she could even take a step, Jason had scooped her against his chest. “I can—”

“I know. But I—” His throat worked, and their eyes met for just a moment before he looked away. “But I want to.”

Maybe it really did help him, Elizabeth thought, as Jason carried her back into the living room and deposited her onto the sofa. To focus on other people. But she just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more she could do. That she should do.

She’d just have to try again. And keep trying until it worked.

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Nadine really didn’t know at what point in her conversation with Jason she’d decided she was all in, but if she had to choose one—it had probably been the look on his face when he’d told her all he wanted was the safety of his family.

His family, which Nadine knew now included Elizabeth and her two boys. The family that also included Carly and her kids. And, until the other day on the docks, Sonny. Jason had protected Johnny, the man responsible for putting his best friend in the hospital bed, because he wanted peace. Needed it.

And if Nadine told the truth or if she backed out, peace would be impossible. Because it would be her fault, and Jason would probably be obligated to keep protecting her even if Johnny ended up in jail and the Zaccharas blamed her. Wouldn’t that be like aiming Anthony Zacchara right at Jason and his family?

Which didn’t even account for how unfair the cops would be about Johnny, especially considering what they were doing to him right now—Scott had dragged him in when Nadine knew they didn’t have any proof.

No. She needed to stick to the plan. The pressure would fade eventually, and then she and Johnny could…figure out how to make this all go away. It was all just insane, and when it was done, she wanted to be able to look back and know she’d done the right thing.

Sometimes the right thing and the legal thing weren’t the same.

Nadine paced the interrogation room, while Johnny sat sullenly at the table. He’d tried to make her go home, but she’d refused. She was his alibi, not that it would get to that she hoped. Johnny’s lawyer would make this all go away, but she wanted to be there just in case.

The door flicked open, and Scott strode in followed by Ric Lansing and, finally, by Mac. The commissioner closed the door and leaned against it. The special prosecutor scowled when he saw Nadine.

“What’s she doing here?” Scott jabbed a finger at her. “She doesn’t need to be here.”

Ric rolled his eyes, pulled out a chair and gestured at Nadine. She frowned, then sat next to Johnny. “Why is my client here?” he asked, sounding bored.

Scott snorted. “You must think I’m pretty stupid.”

“Actually,” Nadine began but Johnny silenced her with a glare. “Well, he shouldn’t give me an opening like that. It’s not fair.”

“Clearly, I was wrong at the trial,” he bit out. “You weren’t protecting Johnny to get in good with Nikolas Cassadine.”

Nadine offered him nothing but a blank stare. She’d expected this line of attack, so it didn’t bother her to hear it now.

“Does he know about this—” Scott gestured at them. “This happy union?”

“My clients are under no obligation to answer any questions, personal or otherwise,” Ric said calmly.

“Ah, bullshit. You can smell the stink on this from a mile away—”

Nadine opened her mouth, and Johnny kicked her. “Ow—” she rubbed her ankle. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Maybe you could just tell us where you were the day of the shooting, and we can get this over with,” Mac said before Scott could say anything.

“No. You tell me why we’re here, and I’ll decide if my clients have anything they want to share.” Ric arched a brow when neither man said anything. “If that’s all—”

“Twenty minutes before the first 911 call, Johnny and Nadine were seen exiting Kelly’s,” Mac said. “They had walked across that very pier to get to Kelly’s, so I assumed their car was parked on Elm Street and not at the diner. They were in the area. And with Sonny arrested last Saturday for going after Johnny, you can understand that we have questions.”

“Is that it? That’s your entire evidence? Fine.” Ric shifted slightly to face his client. “John, tell the cops where you went when you and Nadine left Kelly’s.”

Johnny looked at Scott. “We went for a drive. I proposed. We went to the airport. We went to Vegas. We got married. We came home.”

Scott leaned forward. “You think I believe a word of that?”

“I don’t care what you believe.” Johnny leaned in, too, his eyes locked on the other man’s. “Every single word of that statement is the truth.”

“John.” Ric touched his shoulder, and Johnny sat back. “Satisfied?” he asked Mac.

“I want to hear her say it.” Scott pointed at Nadine. “You always have something to say. Care to add on? Was it a romantic proposal?” he asked with a sneer.

Nadine wanted to feel sorry for this man who had lost his son in such a brutal, terrible way. And the truth of Logan’s death couldn’t have helped. What would it be like to know your son had died because he was attacking a woman? And Scott wasn’t wrong about any of it. Johnny had shot Sonny. Nadine did know the truth.

But this was not a man who cared about truth. He only cared how he could twist facts to fit into the story he’d already written. And Nadine wasn’t going to let him railroad Johnny again.

“Yes,” Nadine said. “Johnny and I had a great time in Vegas by the way. Let me know if you need a recommendation for a wedding chapel.” She sat back, folded her arms. “It was a very romantic proposal. You should be so lucky.”

“Oh, she’s lying through her teeth!” Scott waved his arm dismissively. “Little tramp would do anything to save the guy she’s currently banging—”

He’d no sooner finished speaking than Johnny shot out of his seat, jerked Scott up from the table and shoved the special prosecutor against the wall. “Don’t you ever speak about her that way again.”

“John!” Ric said. “Come on—”

Scott jerked out of Johnny’s grasp and glared at Mac. “Can you arrest him now?”

Mac raised his eyebrows at the still fuming Zacchara standing just inches from Scott. “For what?”

“Assault!” Scott countered, pointing at Johnny. “He assaulted me!”

“And you provoked him,” the harassed commissioner replied. Mac looked to Nadine. “I apologize on behalf of this department.”

“Accepted.” Nadine hesitated for a moment but crossed to Johnny and put her hand on his arm. “Can we go now? Have we answered all your questions?”

“For now,” Mac allowed. He hesitated and looked at Nadine. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He took Scott by the arm and forcefully steered him towards the door. “You’re just determined to get this department sued, aren’t you?” Mac could be heard saying as they went into the squad room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, obviously he doesn’t believe me,” Nadine sighed, removing her hand. She glared at Johnny. “Do you like being arrested or something?”

“If I had let it go unpunished, Baldwin might have thought he could get away with treating people like that. I had enough of him doing that to Lulu. He wanted me to react, wanted a reason to keep me locked up.”

“Can I please recommend in the future that we refrain from physical interaction?” Ric wanted to know.

“With Baldwin around? I’m not making any promises.”

Jacks Estate: Living Room

Carly looked down at the cell phone again, willing it to ring with a miracle, for some news from the hospital that would stop her from having this conversation. But it remained stubbornly silent, and she knew she was out of time. Morgan had started to pick up pieces, and he’d be even more confused if it continued. She’d already waited too long.

She looked across the living room to her son. Morgan was tucked in his play area, his head bent over a coloring book.

Morgan’s teacher said she was sorry his dad was in a coma. I don’t know if he understood, but—

She scrubbed her hands down her face, and went to sit by her son, arranging herself in a cross-legged position. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hi.” Morgan looked up, flashed her a sweet smile, his dimple winking.

“There’s something we have to talk about. You know how Michael got hurt this year? That he had to go to sleep, and we don’t know when he’ll wake up?” Or if. Her precious baby might never wake up.

“Yeah.” Morgan stopped coloring, raised his head again. “Miss Milly said she hoped my daddy was with Michael, but I didn’t understand ’cause Michael’s sleeping at the hospital, and Daddy got married to Kate.”

“Well, that…. something happened, and Daddy couldn’t marry Kate anymore. Then your daddy…he got hurt.”

Morgan drew his dark brows together. “He’s hurt? Can I see him? Maybe I can kiss it better.”

“You can’t—it’s not that kind of hurt, honey. It’s like Michael. Daddy had to go to sleep. And we don’t know for how long.”

“I don’t want Daddy to sleep. I want you to wake him up. I want you to bring him home!” Morgan shoved his coloring book away and climbed to his feet. “You call him, Mommy. You tell him to get better and wake up right now.”

“I wish I could. I really do. But it doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—”

“You’re a liar! I hate you! You hate Daddy and you sent him away! You were mad at him, and you were mad at Michael and now they’re gone! You made Jax go away too! I hate you!” Morgan shoved her hard and took off for the stairs.

Carly didn’t follow him, just stayed sitting on the living room floor, wishing she could throw a tantrum like a child, and scream at the world.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Are you sure it’s not too late?” Bobbie asked, handing her coat to Audrey. “I kept meaning to come by all day, but things just came up—”

“No, of course not.” Elizabeth sat up, wincing. Bobbie readjusted the pillow behind her back. “Thanks. You’re just in time actually. Gram is going to put the boys down for bed, and Jason had a meeting.” She sighed. A meeting that she wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t made up just to get out of the penthouse. “You can keep me from feeling sorry for myself that I’m stuck on this sofa.”

“Elizabeth is a terrible patient,” Audrey said to Bobbie with a smile. “And trust me, darling, I will happily hand bedtime back as soon as you’re capable of doing it yourself. Until that day, you’ll have to suck it up and let people take care of you.”

“I hate that,” Elizabeth muttered when her grandmother had disappeared up the stairs. Bobbie, sitting in the armchair, lifted a brow. Elizabeth’s cheeks heated. “I know it sounds ungrateful, but they make me feel like I can’t do anything for myself. Jason almost has a heart attack every time I take a few steps. And don’t tell me how scared everyone was. I don’t care.”

Bobbie just tilted her head in that way, and Elizabeth looked down, her throat tight. “I care, I do. I just—the world keeps falling apart and I can’t help the people I love make it okay—they won’t let me.”

“They? Or Jason?”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, lifted her gaze to Bobbie’s. “Bullseye. Gram fussing over me, that’s normal. But Jason—he uses it as an excuse,” she murmured, more to herself than Bobbie. “And I don’t know where he learned how to guilt trip someone, but he’s good at it. Keeps telling me that all he needs is for me to be okay, so that’s what I should focus on if I want to help.”

“The worst part of that,” Bobbie said, “is that he means every word of it.”

Elizabeth let her head fall back against the pillow. “Oh, my God. I know. And if you push back against that, you’re just an asshole, right? Like, oh, no the man you love wants to wait on you hand and foot, woes me, right? I know I’m lucky to have him and everyone else that’s helped.”

Bobbie leaned forward, picked up the tissue box on the coffee table, then came closer and sat on the sofa, by Elizabeth’s legs. She held out the box, and Elizabeth plucked out a tissue. “But?” she prompted.

“He won’t talk about Sonny, like, at all. He says facts, but he’s not letting himself process it. I know it hasn’t hit him. What happened with Michael, it was too big, too awful, and he’d only barely pulled it together after losing Emily—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t force any more words out. “He loved that little boy. He still loves him like his own son, and I think a piece of him just went away when he found out Michael might never wake up. And I don’t know how to help him.”

Bobbie’s eyes were damp as she reached for her own tissue. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s this enormous hole at the center of all our lives, and I just—I watch Carly struggling with it, and she’s only barely scratched the surface of processing it. For Jason, to lose Emily and Michael so close together, and now Sonny—”

“I should be able to help him. I should be able to get through, you know? Why can’t I find the right words? Gram keeps saying I’ll know the right moment and what to do, but I won’t I’ll just mess it up. I always do. I always hurt him worse, and that’s all I’ll do now, I know it.”

“Honey—”

“I did—he lost Alan, and I asked him to give up Jake a few days later, did you know that?”  She pressed her lips together, struggled to force the words out. “Emily died, and I asked him to let Lucky keep raising Jake. To keep the lie. And Michael—I agreed with him. I let him go, and I shouldn’t have done that. He needed me, Bobbie, and I didn’t hold on. And now, he’s lost Sonny, and I can’t even help him. Of course not, why would he trust me to do that—”

“All right, all right, you need to stop all that because I can’t hug you without hurting you,” Bobbie managed, and Elizabeth laughed, then started to cry harder. Bobbie stroked her hair. “You are doing the best you can, honey—”

“But he deserves better—”

“He deserves you. You deserve each other, and those boys deserve a family.” Bobbie took her hands, held them together between both of hers. “Jason learned a long time ago that it was easier to close himself off than to feel. And he learned that long before you came along. Those were lessons learned from the Quartermaines, from Robin and from Sonny, and Carly.”

“I did my own damage,” Elizabeth said. She twisted the tissue in her hands. “But I used to be able to tease him out of it. I used to…he used to look at me, Bobbie, and I’d feel so much love. When I was in the hospital, before Sonny was shot, he was still doing that. Still looking at me. He was talking. But now I’m here, and he just talks past me. Talks about the boys, talks about me resting, or what’s for dinner. And I’m afraid that I’ll just keep poking at him until he blows up, and that’s not what I want.”

“You want to skip the part where you have to dig and prod,” Bobbie said, and Elizabeth nodded, wrinkling her nose. “Well, that’s fair, enough. But that kind of ease, it comes with time. You and Jason have been around each other for years, but—correct me if I’m wrong—this is the first time you’ll actually be…together. In the open. Building a life where people can see you.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. Just because Jason and I have been in love for years, it doesn’t mean we know what to do with each other now.”

“And your grandmother had a point. The time is going to come when you’ll know what to say. How to reach him. But it might not be easy. And you may fight and hurt each other and keep going in circles. Because he has to be ready. And there’s no amount of pushing, poking, or prodding that’s going to make that happen.”

Elizabeth smiled wryly. “No, that’s true. I guess I’ll just have to be patient. Which is exactly what Gram said. Since you guys are two of the smartest women I know, I guess I have to listen.”

This entry is part 32 of 32 in the series These Small Hours: Book 1

This love is good
This love is bad
This love is alive back from the dead
These hands had to let it go free, and
This love came back to me
This love left a permanent mark
This love is glowing in the dark
These hands had to let it go free, and
This love came back to me

This Love, Taylor Swift


Friday, October 3, 2008

Nadine’s Apartment: Living Room

Nadine dropped her keys on the counter as Johnny followed her in, closed the door behind her. “Well, that was, uh, an eventful day.” She stripped off her jacket and tossed it aside, finally turning to face him.

“Yeah. Never a dull moment.” Johnny cleared his throat. “I’m sorry—that you got dragged into this.”

“I dragged myself into it.” Nadine perched on the arm of her sofa. “At least that part is over. They don’t have any real evidence against you.”

“Not yet.” Johnny rested his hands on the back of the sofa, leaned forward. “But they didn’t have anything against me with Logan, and that didn’t seem to stop them—”

“That’s true.” She examined her thumb nail. “Um, so, maybe we need to talk about things. Now that you’re, uh, here in Port Charles. That we’re both here. And that people know.”

“Yeah, good news travels fast.” Johnny made a face. “You have some run-ins with well-wishers, too?”

“Just Leyla, a friend from work. Well, not much of a friend now, I guess. I guess—I mean, I knew people would look at me like this, I guess I just didn’t really understand how it would feel. People who know Lulu looking at me like I’m this terrible person,” Nadine said, shaking her head, looking towards the window. “And I can’t even pretend that I’ve got some moral high ground, that I married you because of that day on the pier. I mean, I did, but—”

“But it didn’t stop there.”

“No. It didn’t.” Nadine sighed. “From your question, I guess you didn’t get anyone congratulating you either, huh?”

“Maxie was angry.” Johnny paused. “Lu, you know, she’d understand the wedding part. She’d be irritated by it,” he added, “but her old man was in the business, and she grew up around Sonny. She’d deal with it. It’s just…”

“What came after is harder, I guess. How else do you explain jumping into bed less than a week after her breakdown?” Nadine bit at her thumb.

“If it weren’t for the whole marriage part of it,” Johnny said slowly, “I bet I could spin that, too. Lonely. Tired. Wanting to feel something.” He met her eyes, straightened. “She’d understand, too.”

“Very understanding girlfriend—” Nadine stopped. “I don’t want to be like this. To feel jealous about what Lulu might or might not understand. Especially when all of this is happening because she’s not here. Because she’s not well. And I hate myself for not thinking that part of it through. For just leaning into impulse. I should know better by now.”

“Yeah, acting on impulse hasn’t gotten me much success, either,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. You were right in Vegas. It was a mistake. We should have stopped it then.”

“Definitely.” Nadine stood up. “But look, it was just a few times, right? We’ll stop now. It was a crazy few days, but it’s over now. Things are settled down. The PCPD took their swing, and they struck out. Ric will tell your family that I took your side, and that you’re in the clear, so you’re okay there.”

“Guess it’s a good thing Scott saw me and got annoyed. You’re right. Things will go back to normal—I’ll, uh, move out here—” He gestured at the sofa. “And we’ll just be roommates.”

“Right.” Nadine smiled. “I’m glad we got that sorted out. I feel better.”

“Me, too. It’s smarter this way,” he added. “Keeps everything cleaner. It’s all complicated enough, no point in making it worse.”

“Right,” she repeated, wondering why they were going in circles on this. “This is a good idea. I’m glad you said it first, but I was going to.”

“You were?” Johnny looked at her, and she swallowed hard, because he was looking at her.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

She huffed, walked away a few steps, then whirled around, jabbing a finger at him. “You know what you were doing, so don’t do it again—”

“I absolutely don’t know what I was doing except agreeing with you.” He smirked. “You don’t want me to agree with you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. So we’re not having this conversation anymore.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Nadine fidgeted, folded her arms. “Okay.”

“You said that already.” Johnny’s mouth twitched. “Do you always repeat yourself?”

“Do you always—” She pressed her lips together. “Never mind. We need to get along for however long this lasts, so let’s just—I’ll go find the takeout menus.”

“Nadine.”

She stopped, her hand on the drawer, turned to find him still standing by the drawer. “What?”

“I don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I just wanted to say your name. Because when this conversation is over, it’s over. And we’re not going to have it again. So maybe I just want to keep it going.”

Nadine frowned, her hand falling away from the drawer, stepping towards him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want the conversation to keep—” She stopped. “Johnny. We’re going to be smart about this, remember?”

“I do. It was my idea.”

“Okay, so it’s…done. Decided.” She licked her lips, and his eyes dropped. “Don’t do that—”

“Don’t do what?”

“You—we’re going in circles again, and you know what—I’m going to stop it. I’m going out.” Nadine snatched up her keys. “Because if we’re in the same apartment, we’re going to be stupid, and we decided we were done with that.”

“Yeah, I know but—” Johnny snagged her arm as she passed. “I’m trying to remember why again.” He drew her against him.

“Johnny—” Nadine bit her lip. “This is a really stupid idea.” She pressed her hands against his shoulders, intending to push him away, but instead her fingers curled into his shirt. “Never mind, we’ll be smart tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank God—” He yanked her against him and took her mouth.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth was tired of not being able to move without pain, of being stuck in one place, and having to think before she even took a breath. She wanted to be the one who put her boys to bed, listening to Jake babble through his bedroom routine, or Cameron retell his day at preschool for the fifth time.

But she’d done too much again today, and had been ordered by her grandmother to rest — they’d compromised by letting her sit in an oversized armchair in the bedroom, while Audrey had brought each boy in for a few minutes to cuddle with her, only to be whisked away to their room.

Jason had gone out after dinner for a meeting, but she also wondered if he was avoiding her. Since their brief interaction in the kitchen earlier that afternoon, they hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes—and she wondered if there was even a point in attempting another discussion tonight —

Jason wasn’t ready to talk about Sonny, or maybe he’d said all there was to say. They’d connected a little the night he’d brought her home from the hospital, but she’d caught him at the end of the day when he was probably exhausted from everything that had happened, from her medical emergency to Sonny’s shooting—

She shouldn’t have to wait until he was at the end of his rope before he talked to her, and it had always been this way.

The penthouse fell silent as one by one, its residents went to their rooms and went to sleep. Elizabeth remained in the chair, determined to wait up for Jason, to try just one more time today—

But even she couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes open. Her head listed to the side, her eyes growing heavy—she fell into a light doze, jerked awake when she felt hands trying to lift her.

“I’m awake—I’m—” Elizabeth opened her eyes—the lights had been switched off, the lamp on the night table the only source of illumination. She caught Jason’s face in the shadows, and her hands, which had curled into fists, unfurled against his shoulders. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” Jason knelt by the chair. “You should have gone to bed. It’s late.”

“I—” She stifled a yawn. “I wanted to wait for you.”

Jason sighed, dipped his head. “Why?”

“Why—” Elizabeth stared at him, a bit incredulously. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve barely had a quiet moment together since all of this happened—oof—” Her words were cut off when Jason lifted her in his arms. “Hey. I was talking—”

“You can talk from the bed,” he said, almost in a grunt. He laid her gently against the pillows, sat at the foot of the bed to tug off her socks. “What do you want to wear to sleep—”

“Stop!” At her abrupt words, Jason let her foot drop, then looked at her. “Stop ignoring me and stop changing the subject and stop making it all about my health! I am fine! Just stop.”

She hadn’t meant to do that, hadn’t meant to blow up, and shame crawled up her spine when she saw Jason just standing there at the end of the bed, his arms at his side, looking at her with bewilderment. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s like you’re not listening to me, and you’re treating me like a child. Like I don’t know how to take care of myself. That I can’t figure out how much sleep or rest I need.”

Jason opened his mouth, then shook his head. “You’re pushing too hard—”

“You mean, I’m pushing you too hard,” Elizabeth bit out and he closed his mouth. “I didn’t even say a word about Sonny—and there you go. You just shut down again.”

“I didn’t do anything—”

“Your entire body just went into that stone routine that I hate and I don’t know how to make it stop.” Her eyes filled and she looked away. “All I did was wait up to see you, and you’re making me feel stupid for even bothering. What am I even doing here? What’s the point?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “If you want to go back to your place—”

Now the tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s that easy, isn’t it? It’s so easy for you. I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how you’ve always been able to do that, since the day we met. It gets too hard, and you just walk away, and I have to run after you to get anywhere—”

Something close to anger flashed in his eyes, and she saw his hand tighten in a fist at his side. “You think any of this is easy?”

“We’re having a fight, and you’re ready to ship me back to my house instead of just listening—”

“You said you didn’t know why you were here—I thought you wanted to—”

“Well, don’t think, okay? Because if I want to leave, I’ll tell you.” Elizabeth shifted, then winced, biting down on her lip. “I just—I waited to see you. That’s all. And you weren’t even…” She looked away. “It’s like I’m existing here. A piece of furniture you have to move around and deal with. I’m sorry, should I strip naked so you’ll pay attention to me?” she demanded. Jason’s eyes widened, and she pressed a fist against her mouth, wishing she could claw the words back.

But she couldn’t, and they just hung between them for a long terrible beat of silence. She could almost hear the sound of her heart pounding.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Elizabeth said finally.

“But you said it, so you must think it.” Jason’s tone was almost dull, lifeless, and she knew he’d crawled inside himself again. He’d already started to shut down, and she’d slammed the door.

“I don’t.” Elizabeth grimaced. “Not entirely.”

“Not entirely,” he echoed. Jason nodded, dragged a hand down his face. “Okay. Okay. I’m just—I’m going to go.”

“Wait—” But he was already at the door and in the hallway before the word had formed on her lips, and she was alone.

General Hospital: Kate’s Room

It was nearly midnight, and while the hospital never quite went quiet, there were fewer shoes squeaking along the hallway floors and the lights were dimmed. Kate lay awake, unable to sleep, her mind cluttered with regrets, grief, and bewilderment.

A week ago, she had been fitted for her wedding dress. She’d sent out the invitations. She’d been blissfully planning her future as Sonny’s wife, a dream from her childhood that she’d tucked away in a box. It had gathered dust all these years until they’d met each other again, and she’d thought she’d finally get to live out her girlish fantasy.

And now it was all over.

She heard the scuff of a different set of shoes, and turned her head on the pillow, watching as Jax appeared in the doorway of her hospital room.

“Visiting hours are over,” she said, her voice hoarse, scarcely above a whisper.

“I have some friends in the right places,” he said. He came in, closed the door, and came forward stopping to pick up the water pitcher. He filled the plastic glass on her tray, then held it out.

Kate reluctantly accepted it, sipped. “I don’t want you here.”

“I know. I heard you earlier. And yesterday.” He rocked back on his heels, took a deep breath. “I went home—well, I went to my room at the hotel. I don’t really have a home right now.”

“You don’t expect me to feel sorry for you, do you? Your wife is available. You could go home tonight.”

“She doesn’t want to see me at the moment, either.” Jax took a long, unsteady breath. “I told myself that I was protecting you, that I was keeping you safe. I’d seen Sonny’s life do nothing but hurt people, year after year, and I was finally in a position to stop it.” He looked up, met Kate’s gaze. “But it was vindictive. It was spite. I wanted to see him miserable, and I had the power to see it done. It gave me pleasure, Kate, to keep him from you.”

Her mouth trembled, and she closed her eyes. “You did it to hurt him.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t care what I’d want.”

“I—” Jax rubbed his chest. “I arrogantly assumed you’d wake up, realize you’d been a victim of Sonny’s life one too many times, and that you’d walk away. That’d you be glad—”

“Well, I’m not. God, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? You just so desperately need to believe that any woman who might love Sonny is just some silly twit who doesn’t know her own mind and can’t make choices. Can’t stand by them. Is that who Carly is?”

“No, no, it’s not.” Jax sighed. “He came here that day, Kate. Just before the shooting. Maybe an hour. He tried to see you.”

Kate’s eyes filled, her lips parted. “W-What?”

“He tried to see you, but you didn’t know yet we’d limited the visitors. So…the desk didn’t let him up. And then…”

“Then he went somewhere and got shot. That wouldn’t—he’d have been here. With me. It wouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t—Carly told me that my actions—that it put Sonny on that pier—” Jax pressed his lips together, his voice faltered for a moment. “That what I did, what Olivia did—that we put Sonny on that pier, the way Carly’s choices put Michael in the warehouse. And I don’t give a damn about Sonny,” he bit out. “But you—I do care about you. And Morgan—” He looked away, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I love that little boy, and he’s lost his brother. His father. Carly doesn’t even know that Sonny was here that day. Doesn’t know that we could have—”

“So, what, you’re here to apologize? Beg for forgiveness?”

“No.” His smile was quick, humorless. “For years, I’ve believed myself to be the better man. But when the time came to show it, I failed. As a husband, as a father, and as a friend. I wasn’t thinking of the people who loved Sonny. Who needed him. I knew he was upset, I knew he wasn’t handling any of this well, and I enjoyed telling him no. I learned something about myself with all of this, Kate, something I’m not proud of. I don’t like who I turned out to be.”

“That makes two of us. You can go now.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason made it down the stairs and to the front door before he stopped. He flattened both hands against the door, leaned his head against it. He could leave. He could climb on the bike, ignore all the speed limits, and just let it all disappear in the roar of the engine and wind—

But Elizabeth would still be upstairs, still waiting for him to stop running. Waiting for him to look at her, to listen to her.  He’d brought her here, plopped down in the center of his world, and he’d hoped it would be enough, but wasn’t. It would never be enough.

She’d tried over and over again to talk to him, to get him to open up, to look at her, and he’d shut her down at every turn. He wasn’t surprised she’d grown frustrated and lashed out, striking at him with harsh words. She hadn’t meant them, and he knew that—

But maybe there was a piece of her that wondered, that worried, that after this last year when most of their meetings had been at the safe house or a hotel room, and sex was all they’d really had time for—

Maybe she believed that there was nothing else she could give him. The fear that she still didn’t know, after all this time, how much he loved her, how much just looking at her helped to keep him grounded, gave him the strength to keep moving—

It was enough to make him stop running. He didn’t know what to say to her, but it wasn’t fair to keep avoiding it.

Jason stepped back, then went to the stairs. When he opened the door to the bedroom, he found Elizabeth by the dresser, one hand bracing against the wall, the other digging in a drawer. They stared at each other for a long moment, then he came fully into the room, closed the door.

“Can I help you find something?” he asked.

“I have it,” Elizabeth said, retrieving something blue from the drawer. “But, um, I can’t—I can’t get it on by myself. Could…could you help?”

“Yeah.” Jason wound her arm around his neck and helped her to sit on the bed. He helped her change from the T-shirt and leggings into a long, blue nightshirt. “I’m sorry,” he said, still kneeling in front of her, staring at a blue swirl on her shirt. He rested a hand on her bare knee, preparing to stand—

Instead, she stroked the top of his head, combing her fingers lightly through his hair. “I’m sorry, too. You know I didn’t mean what I said. Not—not the way it sounded. I just—I was so upset, and, well, it’s easier, sometimes, to pick a fight than it is to say I’m worried. You don’t like it when I worry about you.”

He liked it too much, he thought, closing his eyes, focusing on her touch. He leaned his cheek against her thigh, wishing he could just stay this way. Stay in this room. That everything outside of it would just…stop.

“I know you want me to tell you what I’m feeling, but I can’t.”

“I know.”

“You don’t.” Jason slowly lifted himself up, sat next to her, stared down at the carpet, at her toes curling into it. “Because I’m not feeling anything.”

“Jason.”

“I got the call that Sonny was shot and that it was bad, and I just—” He shook his head. “There’s nothing. I don’t feel anything.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Help me to sit back?”

“Yeah, okay.” He settled her back against the pillows, and went to change into a pair of sweatpants, thinking maybe he’d said enough for now, and she would let it go. He crawled into bed next to her.

“Come here.” Elizabeth held out her hand, and he frowned at her. “Come here.”

Jason slid towards her, and she put her arm around him, guiding him so that his head lay against her chest—the way he’d seen her hold Jake the other night. She stroked his hair, then his shoulders, her fingers dancing near his spine, and oddly, it felt right. Comforting.

“You’ve lost so many people, Jason.”

He tensed, but she kept stroking him. “I’m fine—” But there was a lick of something in the back of his throat. An itch. He swallowed, trying to get rid of it, but it was still there.

“I know you regret not having more time with Alan. And all the stress with Jake—that’s on me, I know. The trial. All of that couldn’t have helped. Then…Emily.”

He closed his eyes, but the tears were hot against the lids. His sister. His vibrant, precious little sister. “You lost her, too.”

“I know. But I didn’t lose my father, my sister, my son, and my brother in less than two years. You’ve been dealing with so much, and we kept asking for more. Me. Carly. Sonny. The world. It’s no wonder you can’t feel anything.”

“You can ask me for anything—”

“I know that. I’ve always known that. But I wish you knew you could ask me, too.”

Jason sighed, leaned up on one elbow, to find her looking at him somberly. “I—”

“I know that’s not always been true. I know it’s been hard to trust me—”

He wanted to argue with her, to say he’d always understood, but he couldn’t. She was right. He hadn’t always been able to turn to her. Hadn’t always been able to rely on her to stand by him.

“Since I woke up after the accident, and I realized you’d decided to change everything while I was unconscious, I’ve been bracing myself for you to take it back. To change your mind again, like you did in April. I don’t think I realized until tonight you’ve been doing the same. Not until you talked about me going back to the house, and I saw that you’d already accepted it.”

“I—” Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know.” Elizabeth stroked the side of his face, and he leaned into her touch, kissing her fingers when they brushed his lips. “You’ve been waiting for Lucky to come back from California, change his mind, and me to let him. Because that’s what I always do. But I’m not going to do that this time. The boys, me, we’re yours, and we’re not going anywhere. When you know that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be able to trust me the way you used to. I love you, and I’ll wait as long as it takes until you believe that.”

He closed his eyes and laid back down because she wasn’t going to push. Wasn’t going to ask questions. She understood, and he let that settle. Let himself settle. He could drift asleep just like this, with her fingertips dancing across his skin.

But then he spoke. He didn’t even know where it came from or that he was going to say the words, until they were already in the world.

“He’s not going to wake up.”

She said nothing, just continued running her fingers along his back. He continued. “The doctors are talking around it, not saying it’s permanent. They can’t say that yet, but they’re thinking it. They did another surgery, but it didn’t change anything. It’s…Michael. All over again. Michael won’t ever wake up. He’ll get older, but he’ll never grow up.” Pressure built behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

The tears spilling down his cheeks now, but he still had words to say. “The last thing I told him was to handle it himself. I didn’t have time for him. Robin had called me, and you were in trouble, and I stopped thinking about him. He tried to handle it himself, and it didn’t work. Now he won’t wake up.” He closed his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. “I won’t get that moment back. He’s gone. Just like Michael.”

He said nothing else after that, and they laid there until sleep claimed them.

TO BE CONTINUED


Author’s Note

This may seem like an abrupt ending for a book, but, well, I never intended These Small Hours to be split into two, much less three, books. (That should be in my obituary, honestly: She never meant to write a series.) I planned it as a tightly focused story on Jason & Elizabeth with Johnny & Nadine providing a secondary romance.

But then I started to write.

I wrote about Carly’s spiral after Sonny’s loss, I wrote about Patrick’s struggle to live up to his job while preparing for fatherhood, and I found myself writing about Jax finding that victory over Sonny was a bitter one—I love these dumb characters. Even when they make my life difficult. I even love the ones I hate, finding myself expanding on Lucky & Sam in rewrites, and even more Maxie. I just love ensemble stories and the way one event can ripple out and change the world if you let it.

Anyway, that’s a really poetic way of saying that during my rewrites, I realized that this story was just too long to finish in one release. It expanded to seventy-two chapters – we’d be here until sometime this spring with me trying to slog through the draft with how long each step of the process takes me.

Breaking it into pieces gets you the story faster, and it keeps me fresher.

Book 1 (Undone) breaks the world into pieces. Book 2 begins the painful process of stitching it back together. Book 3 reveals the world changed.

I left Book 1 here because this is a chance for our characters to take a breath. Patrick sees some light at the end of the tunnel. Kate, Jax, Carly – they’re all at a crossroads. And Johnny and Nadine are just beginning to learn that they’re stronger together, even if they don’t understand why. Jason is finally facing the magnitude of what’s happened to him. Elizabeth found the words she worried would never come, and with it – a new sense of strength and confidence in what comes next.

As for what that is – you’ll just have to wait and see.

These Small Hours, Book 2: Shadows coming December 17, 2024