And now I’m crying
Isn’t that what you want
And I’m trying to live my life on my own
But I’m holding on to old times
I do believe I am strong
So someone tell me why do I feel stupid?
– Mad Season, Matchbox Twenty

---

September 2012

General Hospital: Chapel

Elizabeth sat down in the front pew and sighed, rubbing the side of her face. “I’m so tired of funerals.”

Next to her, Patrick shifted and checked his watch. “Not that I wouldn’t follow you into the bowels of hell,” he began, “but why are we at the service for the man who tried to kill you?”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, staring at the altar in the front of the room at the urn holding Ewen Keenan’s ashes. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think because someone should be here. And I don’t—” She looked at him. “I’m not sure he did try to kill me. Or if that was actually the plan before Jason showed up and he panicked.”

“No? Didn’t you tell the PCPD that Jason killed him to save your life?” Patrick asked, his brows raised. Elizabeth’s lips curved into a slight smirk. “Or was that a lifetime of protecting Morgan kicking in?”

“I think Ewen was a desperate man with too many secrets.” She folded her arms. “He always seemed like he wanted to tell me something, but he would always stop short. He would look at me—and I would say or do something to let him down—”

“Oh, what, you should have been an easier mark? Elizabeth, the man manipulated you from the day you met. He constantly put you in a position where you had to defend yourself. Just like everyone else you know,” Patrick muttered. “Whatever secrets that man kept? You’re better off in the dark.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “He knew me. He understood me—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t mean that in a good way—” She paused. “That first night I met him, I knew he was familiar to me. I look back now and I can see that it was a setup. He was painting across the hall from me with ocean sounds playing in the background. He knew I took honey in my tea. And I think—” She paused. “I thought at first that he was just—after he saved my life, that he was trying to get close to me—”

“Freak,” Patrick grumbled.

“But I don’t know. He said he loved me at the end, but it never felt real. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t commit to him. There always seemed to be something underneath I couldn’t touch. That he’d never let me see.” Her eyes burned as she saw the hospital’s chaplain come in and start to set up at the podium. “He was part of this whole plan with Jerry Jacks to poison the town. Why couldn’t I see that in him?”

“Because you’re dealing with enough, Elizabeth, and you shouldn’t have to wonder if every guy you’re dating is in league with a super villain.” Patrick took her hand and squeezed it between both of his. “Whatever secrets Ewen Keenan was keeping, he took them to his grave.”

“I just—what do you think they were? Why do you think he was…”

“Obsessed with you?” Patrick asked. “Maybe it’s nothing more complicated than that. He got fixated on you after he saved your life, and went insane when he couldn’t control you or have you on his terms.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth brushed at the tears on her cheek. “Maybe.”

“We’ll let the chaplain say his nice, comforting words, and then we’ll let Ewen Keenan fade into memory. Whatever he wanted from you, Elizabeth, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re safe. It’s over.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It’s over.”

Monday, November 13, 2017

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Scott stirred sugar into his coffee and studied his sullen son across the table from him, trying to think of the best way to broach the subject of Elizabeth and her children. What she’d told him about Cameron.

“What’s on your mind, Pop?” Franco said finally, setting his fork down. “You’re staring at me like you wanna say something.”

Scott rubbed his chin. “I, uh, had some words with Elizabeth last week,” he said finally. Franco made a face. “We were dealing with some paperwork, and she mentioned that maybe you’ve been bothering her at work—”

“Bothering her?” Franco repeated. “That’s bullshit—”

“She also told me about Cameron.”

His son closed his mouth and his scowl deepened. “Oh, I bet she did. She acts like I backhanded the little snot—” Franco paused, took a deep breath. “Look, I got into a fight with him, okay? I tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t hear it. She always takes his side—”

“His side,” Scott repeated. “He’s sixteen, Franco, and he’s her kid. She’s supposed to take his side. You’re the adult. You don’t get into a shoving match with a kid—”

“It wasn’t like that! I just—I wanted the stupid tablet, and he wouldn’t give it to me. He doesn’t have any respect—I just—” Franco huffed. “I grabbed his shirt—”

“Whatever happened,” Scott said, his stomach rolling at the idea of his son putting his hands on one of Elizabeth’s boys. One of Laura’s grandchildren. “Elizabeth has decided it was the deal breaker. She’s a mother first, Franco. You gotta respect her decision, okay?”

“She would have forgiven me if Morgan hadn’t showed up,” Franco muttered. “I told you, when he dumps her for Sam again, she’ll remember who actually gives a damn about her.”

Scott highly doubted that Elizabeth was ever going to give Franco another chance, but he didn’t think it would do any good to say that right now. “Fine. But leave her alone at the hospital—”

“You know, I don’t have to listen to this,” Franco snapped. He shoved his chair back and stormed out of the diner, passing Curtis Ashford on his way out. Scott twisted in his chair, frowning after his son.

“What’s his problem?” Curtis asked. He sat in Franco’s empty seat.

“Elizabeth dumped him.”

“About time,” Curtis said.

Scott scowled. “Did you need something?” He really didn’t want to listen anyone else’s diatribe about his son.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking into Drew Cain’s past,” Curtis said. “Knowing which twin is which doesn’t really explain how any of this happened, you know? Drew asked me to figure out how he ended up at the group home.”

Scott furrowed his brow. “And you need me for that?”

“Well,” Curtis drawled, “you were married to Drew and Jason’s biological mother, weren’t you?”

“For a minute, yeah.”

“Then maybe you could help us understand how Drew and Jason got separated at birth.”

Scott shook his head. “You know, I got clients to see.” He tossed some cash on the table. “See you around.”

“Scott—”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

Nero Home: Oscar’s Bedroom

“You’re running late,” Kim said as she leaned against Oscar’s door frame. She sipped her coffee. “You need a ride to school?”

“No,” Oscar said, shoving his books into his backpack. “I’ll get to the bus stop in time. I just slept through my first alarm.” He grabbed his keys from his nightstand, grimacing when he knocked over a frame. He picked it up, then stared at for a minute.

It was the last photograph he had of himself with his parents. With his biological mother. His mother was clearly ill—her skin pale, her eyes slightly sunken. But her arms were wrapped around Oscar, sitting on her lap, grinning at the camera with a flash of his baby teeth. His father standing behind his mother, looking down at them.

He’d only been four when his mother died, nine when his father had gone AWOL. It was crazy to look at this picture sometimes and think that this kid had no idea what was going to happen to his family—

“Oscar?”

He looked up at his stepmother. “Sorry, I just—I got distracted.” He put the picture down, but still stared at the image of his mother. “He used to tell me stories about her.” He looked back at Kim. “But I don’t really remember her. Now he doesn’t either.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Oscar. This—” Kim sighed, stared down into her coffee cup. “You know, we’re signing paperwork to make sure the legalities—I mean—”

“You’re divorcing him,” Oscar said. “I know. Joss told me. She overheard Michael and his sister talking about it. Everyone’s getting a divorce to clear things up. Or something.”

“Yeah. It just—it makes sense to make sure we’re all free to do what right’s for us.” Kim paused. “The thing is, our paperwork says custody of you stays with me right now. Because this is comfortable for us, you know? And Drew wants you to be okay.”

Oscar frowned. “I—”

“But I wondered if it might—” She paused. “If you might want to go live with him. Or stay with him. Or something. I don’t know. Maybe it might help to get you two back on track. You guys were such a team, Oscar. I want you to have that again.”

“I don’t know,” Oscar said after a long moment. “We talked about spending time together, but I’m not—I’m not ready for that, Kim.”

“Okay, okay.” She shrugged and forced a smile. “I just—I want you to do what’s right for you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You’d better get going.” Kim stepped. “Or you really will miss your bus.”

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Dining Room

With great reluctance, Michael slid into one of the empty booths across from Sonny and folded his hands on the table. “You wanted to see me?”

“I, uh, did.” Sonny sat back, stretching his arm across the back of his booth. “We haven’t really talked since everything happened last week.”

“I know.”

Sonny’s lipped thinned as he took in his son’s short, clipped tone. “I’m sorry. Not—” He paused. “Not about what happened years ago. I mean, I am sorry about that—I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life,” he continued when Michael’s eyes narrowed, “but I’m sorry that I didn’t see that we hadn’t resolved it. I’m sorry that I thought we were done with it.”

Michael exhaled slowly, some of the tension draining from his shoulders and expression. “I made a choice,” he said slowly, “to let you and Mom think I was done with it. I did that because the anger was going to eat me alive. Keeping you away from Avery, making sure Joss and Morgan were always in the middle—even Krissy felt the strain when she was around. It was going to destroy our family if I let it.”

“But keeping it locked up, Michael, it just makes it harder for you. I don’t want that. I don’t,” Sonny insisted when Michael just stared at him. “I can’t go back and do things differently. I did what I did. I shot your biological father and stayed silent about it for months. I sat by your side while you grieved and denied you justice—”

“You left him to die,” Michael said. “And you knew for sure Ava had murdered Connie. You could have cleared my father’s name. You knew he was innocent.” His eyes burned. “But you let people think he was a murderer. You and Mom can tell me all you want that it was to protect me—but I know you. I know you,” he repeated, “and there’s a part of you that isn’t sorry.”

Sonny swallowed hard. “Michael—”

“You’re sorry you hurt me. You’re sorry it created problems with Mom,” Michael continued. “But part of you is not sorry my father is dead. And that you were the one to end him. And that’s the part of you I can’t forgive.”

“You have to—” Sonny paused, uncomfortable with the truth in Michael’s words. “You have to understand that AJ and I were at odds for a long time—”

“I know it. I also know you chose to put yourself in the middle of all of that. You and my mother spent my entire life lying to me about how I ended up as Michael Corinthos. You made me think my father was a monster—” Michael tipped up his chin. “And you’re not sorry you did it.”

“I—”

“Jason’s sorry,” Michael continued. “I can understand his choices back then. But I don’t understand yours.”

“Listen—”

“You knew my mother was married when you had an affair with her, and you helped my mother get custody of me in the divorce. I know Jason did that, too,” Michael added. “But AJ didn’t mean anything to you. He’d never done a damn thing to you. At least Jason can point to the accident—”

“Michael—”

“You made sure AJ lost custody of me. And then you hung him on the meat hook to make sure he terminated his paternal rights. Yeah, I know about that,” Michael added when Sonny swallowed hard. “And by then, Sonny, you knew he didn’t push my mother down those damn stairs. You knew you were taking me away from him because you wanted to punish him. And then you made sure he could never get me back.” Michael shoved out of the booth.

“I lost a lifetime with my father because of you. Because of my mother—” Michael paused. “And because of Jason,” he added reluctantly. “But you know, I think only Jason is actually sorry. You and Mom? You’d do all it over again, even knowing how it turned out. Because you both feel justified. You feel righteous.”

“That’s not true—”

“Isn’t it?” Michael demanded. Sonny slid out of the booth. “Tell me. Are you sorry my father is dead?”

Sonny waited a beat, but he knew if he lied in this moment, he’d never get a chance to make this right. “No.”

“You raised me,” Michael said after a long moment, after absorbing the answer. “And there’s a part of me that will always love you. Will always think of you as my father. That’s why I was able to put this away. It’s why I’m going to put it away again,” he added. “Because we can’t fix this. You can’t go back. You can’t stop yourself from murdering from my father. He’s dead. He never gets another chance to get things right.”

“Michael, I don’t want this to hang between us—”

“It will always be there. Always,” Michael repeated. “But I lost Morgan, too. All I have left is my sisters. And Dante,” he added. “Avery—” He looked away, towards the front of the restaurant. “She’s too young to be dealing with this. She deserves her family to be together. So I’m putting it away.”

“But you won’t forgive me.”

“I—” Michael paused. “I thought I had,” he admitted. “I thought I could push it down, pretend it didn’t happen because I had forgiven you and Mom. But, no. There is no redemption for you, Sonny. Or my mother. Because in order to be redeemed, you have to show remorse. You’re sorry you hurt me. She’s sorry she hurt me. But the both of you? You’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He turned to face Sonny fully. “I’m sorry. But that’s how it is. We can bury it again, we can put it away for the sake of the people we love. But I’m never going to be your son again. Not the way I was.”

“If that’s all I can have,” Sonny said, forcing the words out, “then that’s what I’ll have to accept. Thank you for coming to talk to me about this. It’s—these are things we needed to say.”

“Yeah, I guess they are.”  With that, Michael left and Sonny sat back down in the booth, staring blindly down at the surface of the table.

Davis House: Living Room

“Mom?” Sam set Scout’s car seat on the ground and then hung up her jacket. “Mom, are you around?”

Hearing nothing but silence, Sam wrinkled her nose and leaned down to unsnap her daughter from the seat then lifted her into her arms. “Let’s go find Grammy,” she told Scout and headed into the kitchen.

Finding no one, Sam started up the stairs and went down the hallway towards her mother’s bedroom, then heard sound coming from her sister’s bedroom.

Not just sound.

Her own voice.

“Have you and the District Attorney ever had intimate relations?”

“What?”

“Objection, Your Honor!”

Sam shoved the door open to find Kristina curled up in her desk chair, her phone in her hand, and voices floating out from a decade ago.

“And wasn’t the District Attorney married to your mother at the time?”

“…Yes.”

“And then you go running back to Jason Morgan so he can continue to financially support you, correct?”

“She made me sound like a gold digger,” Sam said faintly. Kristina looked up, blinking at her. “I think that’s what hurt the most. The only way Diane knew what happened was Jason told her. He told her that to use against me—”

Kristina carefully clicked a button her phone and the voices slid away. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Mom about Thanksgiving,” Sam said, hoisting Scout higher in her arms. “Why are you watching it again? Wasn’t once enough?”

“They televised this,” Kristina said. She set her phone down, and twisted the chair until she was facing Sam. “Everyone knew. Mom got humiliated.”

“I know that.” Sam set Scout on the floor and handed her the bottle in her hand. “It was a lifetime ago, Krissy. You get to be mad and hurt because for you, it’s now. And I regret it—”

“I wanna know how it happened,” Kristina interrupted. Sam shook her head. “No, I deserve to know how you ended up in bed with Ric. He never treated me any differently than he did Molly. And back then, before I got closer to my dad, Ric was always there. He still calls and writes me just as much as he does Molly.”

“I—” Surprised, Sam sat on the edge of Kristina’s bed. “I didn’t know that.”

“No. Because it doesn’t matter to you, does it?” Her sister narrowed her eyes. “So tell me. I wanna know.”

“You don’t, Krissy. It doesn’t reflect well on anyone—but—” Sam rubbed the side of her face. “Mostly me—”

“If you tell me the truth, I’ll know you’re really sorry. You destroyed my life. You humiliated my mother—”

“Fine. Fine.” Sam made a face. “You know that I didn’t grow up with Mom. In fact, I only found out she was my mother about a year before that trial. I found out and kept it quiet because I really—I hated her for a lot of reasons that don’t really make sense to me now,” she admitted. “And when Mom found out who I was, it was because I’d been hurt. Jason told her. I never wanted her to know.”

Sam paused, but Kristina just lifted her brows. “And Mom’s first priority was making sure Jason broke up with me because I’d been shot by Manny Ruiz. I blamed her for that—”

“Why? She just wanted you to be safe. Jason’s the one that did the breaking—”

“I get that. Now. But at the time, it was—it was devastating. I didn’t understand how I’d built my entire life around him. When he sent me away, I didn’t have anything. And I blamed Mom.” Sam swallowed hard. “So I decided—God, I decided that I was going to make her hurt the way I did.”

Tears clung to Kristina’s lashes as she swallowed a sob. “You did it deliberately. It wasn’t—it wasn’t like you were drunk one night—”

“I did it deliberately,” Sam confirmed, almost inaudible. “I didn’t really know her. Or you and Molly. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I just wanted revenge. And Mom—she knew she was sick. She was struggling with it and pushing Ric away. They were arguing more and more. And Ric—” This was the part that hurt the worst. “He was hurt because they’d worked hard to get to a place where they were a family, and Mom flipped overnight. I played on that, Krissy. If I hadn’t been there—”

“He wouldn’t have gone out to cheat on her. He did it with you because you were there and you were trying to hurt her.”

“Yes.” Sam rubbed her chest, closing her hand into a fist as she admitted what she’d never said out loud. “And I did it to hurt Jason. He’s always hated Ric for pretty damn good reasons. So, I thought— two birds, one stone.” She squeezed her eyes shut as tears burned down her cheeks. “When it was over, I played it off like it was a mistake and then got up going to over to tell Jason. But I lost my courage when I got there. I tried again the next day. I was ready to throw it in his face—I was going to throw it in Mom’s—”

“What changed your mind?”

“He already knew,” Sam said softly. “And what he didn’t tell me is that Mom knew, too. She’d seen us, and had a breathing attack. Jason was coming over to tell me he’d made a mistake and wanted me back. He took her to the hospital, and when he came back — I was—he saw us, too. They both saw us that night. But he didn’t tell me until months later that Mom knew.” She hesitated. “He also told me that he’d been with Elizabeth that night. And I realized, oh, God—” She dragged her hands through her hair. “I’d made a horrible mistake. If I hadn’t done it, Jason would have been with me. Not her. And because of all of that—”

Because of her burning need to make Alexis pay — Jason had reconnected with Elizabeth and created a child.

And nothing had ever been the same.

“I told you, Krissy. Everything about that night—about what I did leading up to it—it makes me a terrible person.” And the things she’d done afterward trying to keep Jason with her, only to have him slide out of her grasp—the desperation only growing—

Kristina took a deep breath. “Thank you. For being honest with me. I—” She paused. “I get that Mom has forgiven you. And I mostly get that it’s not just you. Ric did it, too. But it’s hard. Because it feels like this just happened. And I just—” She swiped at her eyes. “I feel like I’m a mess, you know? Like I keep doing everything wrong, and every time I get my feet under me, it falls apart. I just—I want to be better. And I look at you, and I thought—well, you used to be a mess, and now you’re better—”

“Krissy—”

“But it’s not that simple, is it?” she asked quietly. “You did what you did. And I get that you’re sorry about hurting Mom, and she forgave you. But you meant to destroy my family. And it’s just going—it’s going to take a minute, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.” Sam got to her feet and picked up Scout. “I’ll give you your space on this, Krissy. I just—I love you. I didn’t understand what it meant to have a family, not really. My father always used me for his cons, and my mother never loved me. Danny—he loved me, and I loved him. But I had to take care of him. No one ever took care of me until Mom. No one ever really loved me until she did. You, Molly, and Mom. You’re the people that matter. I’d do anything to protect that.”

“Molly should know,” Kristina said. Sam shook her head. “No, she deserves to know why her father isn’t in her life. She knows he’s not a perfect person, but she deserves to know.”

“No, look, I wouldn’t even tell you—”

“If you’re really sorry,” Kristina retorted, “then you’ll tell her.”

“I’m not doing this, Krissy. I get that this happened to you. To you and Molly, but at the end of the day, I’m not ripping open my veins so that you can judge me. I’m not telling Molly. Please don’t—don’t do this to her.”

Kristina narrowed her eyes. “Sam—”

“You remember Ric being here more than she does. She was just a little girl when he left. She doesn’t have the memories the way you do. Please. I can’t—I can’t take another hit right now. With Drew and Jason, and you—” Sam tightened her arms around her daughter. “Please.”

“If I don’t tell her, it’ll be like lying to her. She’s my sister. She deserves the truth. So either you tell her or I do.”

Metro Court: Restaurant

Carly stepped off the elevator and spied a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. She perked up and hurried over. “Spinelli!” She sat down across from him and grinned at the little girl sharing his table. “And Georgie. Hey!”

“Hi.” Georgie flashed her a shy smile. “Daddy and I are having brunch.” She looked at her father. “When is Mommy getting done at the doctor?”

“Soon,” Spinelli said, forcing a smile. He handed her a sippy cup with orange juice before turning his attention to Carly. “What’s up? I haven’t seen you since I got back.”

“No, I’ve been busy with the holidays,” Carly said. “You know how busy it gets at the hotel.” And Jason hadn’t asked her for help. Hadn’t brought Spinelli by the house. He was probably holed up at that stupid safe house. She wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to talk to you about Jason.”

“Uh, I’m not really sure Stone Cold would appreciate that,” Spinelli began.

“I’m just worried about him. He’s been through so much,” Carly said, ignoring his discomfort. “I just want him to be okay, you know? I want him to get his life back—”

“He’s only been back a few weeks, Carly. It’ll take some time.”

“I know, I know. And I’m glad he’s spending so much time with Jake. I am,” she repeated because it was the truth. She might not like that Jake apparently came as a set with Elizabeth freaking Webber, but Sonny was right. Elizabeth was opening the door, and Jason deserved to have his son.  “But I’m sad he’s not getting to know Danny. Aren’t you?”

“I hadn’t—” Spinelli paused. “It’s not ideal,” he admitted. “But it’s not up to Stone Cold, you know?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like Jason has even gone to see Sam. He should. I was thinking you might help me with that,” Carly said. “You could get him to come to the park or the pier or something, and I could get her there—”

“I am not getting involved in any of that,” Spinelli said flatly. “I came back to Port Charles for two reasons. I wanted my daughter to be closer to her mother, and to help Jason find out who did this to him. He hates when I get involved in his personal life—”

“Spinelli—” Carly saw the set of his jaw and switched tactics. “I just want him to be happy. He was married to Sam—”

“He was, but it’s been five years.” Spinelli softened his voice. “I get you want to help, Valkyrie. I know how fierce you are when it comes to the people you love. But forcing Jason into a room with Sam is only going to make things more awkward—”

“She shouldn’t be allowed to keep his son from him,” Carly snapped. “Jason deserves to be with his kids.”

Spinelli rubbed the back of his neck. “This isn’t my fight, okay? Jason is aware of Danny, and he’s gonna have to figure that out.”

“Why doesn’t anyone even—” Carly cleared her throat. “Fine. Fine. No one wants to help me get Jason’s life back, I’ll just have to do it myself.”

She shoved away from the table and stalked away. Spinelli followed her with his eyes, wincing.

“Daddy, is she okay?” Georgie asked.

“Hard to tell, princess,” Spinelli said, troubled. “Let’s finish our food and head over to see Mommy, okay?”

“Okay.”

A few tables away, hidden behind the menu she’d jerked in front of her face, Nelle Benson’s lips curved into a smile. Sometimes information just fell into your lap.

Joe’s Bar: Parking Lot

Elizabeth pulled her car into an empty space, wrinkling her nose and turning her attention back to the voice coming out of her dash. “Spinelli, I think you’re overreacting.”

“Stone Cold was very quiet when he left,” the tech told her. “And then you said he didn’t come to dinner tonight.”

“I know, but—”

“He would never miss a chance to see Little Stone Cold. I just—” Spinelli paused. “He was okay, and then today he seems like he’s not.  I had a run-in with Valkyrie that just makes me worried. He usually tunes me out, but he talks to you.”

“I see his bike,” Elizabeth said, spying the familiar colors parked among a few others. “I’ll text you later.”

“Thanks.”

Elizabeth switched off her ignition and the call disconnected. She sent a text to Cameron to remind him to get Jake and Aiden in bed before midnight, then got out of the car.

Inside, the bar was exactly the atmosphere she’d once enjoyed at Jake’s. It was badly lit, terribly decorated, and the beer on tap was sub par. Its entire clientèle came from the docks and everyone minded their own damn business.

And she found exactly who she was looking for, in the corner of the bar by the pool table, a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of him and—her eyes widened—two empty shot glasses.

Jason almost never drank hard liquor.

She hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder and wound her way through the tables towards him—but he’d seen her the minute she walked in.

“Hey.”

He stared at her, then scrubbed his hand over his face, some life coming into it—that horrible empty expression gone. “Hey,” he said.

“I’ll go if you want to be alone,” she offered, but was relieved when he shook his head. She set her purse on the table and took off her coat, tossing it over a chair. “Be right back.” She nodded at the shot glasses. “You wanna do a round?”

A ghost of a smile flitted across his lip. “Yeah, sure. Your choice.”

“Great.” She drew out her wallet and went to the bar. When he came back, she had her own beer and was followed by the bartender who set down a few slices of lime, a canister of salt, a bottle of tequila, and empty shot glasses. “Thanks,” she said to him, then dismissed the man.

Jason watched the bartender go back and leveled a glare when the man kept staring at Elizabeth. The guy blanched and hurried to occupy himself with the few customers at the bar.

“I think the last time I drank anything more than one margarita was when Patrick almost married Sabrina,” Elizabeth said as she poured the tequila. “I was going to be his best person, and I wanted him to know I could do the job just as well as a guy.” She made a face. “I did it, but I also don’t remember a lot of it.” She slid the tequila over to him along with a piece of lime and the salt. “Now, I’m sure it’s been a while—”

“Not that long,” he said. He picked up the salt, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and tapped the salt onto the back of her hand. “I taught you how to do this. A long time ago.”

“I know. And then I taught Robin and Emily and Kelly, and they were really impressed because they think I just knew.” Her eyes danced with a wicked gleam. “Lick it, slam it, suck it. Ready?”

“Sure.” He licked the salt, tossed back the tequila, wincing at the burn, then reached for the lime wedge.

“I used to be a lot younger,” Elizabeth muttered, wiggling her shoulders. “Yikes.” She set the shot glass aside and sipped her beer. “I told you, Joe’s is almost as good as Jake’s.”

“Yeah, it’s quiet and no one is bothering me.” He lifted his brows. “Well, until you showed up.” She snorted, and he picked up his own beer. “Spinelli call you?”

“He did. I thought he was overreacting, but the kid knows you.” Elizabeth put her chin on her palm, her elbow resting on the table. “You also haven’t missed a single dinner invitation since you came home. Not that you don’t get to do what you want, but—” She focused on him, her eyes soft. “What can I do?”

“This. What you’re doing.” Jason paused. “I don’t even—” He leaned forward, trying to put his thoughts in order. “I don’t even know what it was,” he admitted. “We were talking, and then his kid—his daughter came over. Spinelli’s a dad. He’s a good one, too. She’s, um—” He hesitated. “Everything just kept moving. Everyone. And I wasn’t here.”

He took a long pull from the bottle, then rolled it in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about Jake. About you seeing on Spoon Island and me not doing enough—”

“Jason—”

“And you’re right. I know you’re right. We had no reason to think it wasn’t a hallucination, but just the idea that he was right there all that time, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save him. And Michael—he’s going through this crap with Sonny and Carly, and I can’t be sure I wouldn’t have made it worse—” He paused. “I’m just—I’m not having a good day.”

“It makes sense. You’ve been putting one foot in front of the other, keeping your head looking forward. But you took a minute to breath, and it hit you all over again.” Elizabeth paused. “You came home to people who already thought they had you back. I know it must have been hard to—” She pressed her lips together. “It must have been hard to come home and find out Sam had married someone else. And I know it’s hurting that she’s not—she’s not—I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’d rather she be here right now.”

Jason squinted at her, then slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t. I—” He paused. “Yeah, when I woke up in the clinic, I tried to call her. I went to the penthouse because that was home. But she made a choice that night, and she’s made that choice every day since. She gets to do that. I wouldn’t want her sitting here feeling obligated because of what happened to me.”

“I guess I can understand that.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave the boys to come—you didn’t have to.” Jason straightened, glanced down at his phone. “It’s late—”

“I’m not working tomorrow,” Elizabeth told him. “And yeah, I did. I want to be here for you, Jason. I’m glad I can be. How many times did I run to you when I was in trouble? When I was hurt, or struggling—and it’s not like I’m keeping track or paying off a balance,” she added when he opened his mouth. “It’s just—” She leaned back. “This is how it started. You and me. Sitting in a bar. You let me talk, and it wasn’t just because I was Emily’s friend or because you were nice. I refuse to believe that. No one is that nice.”

He made a face. “I’m not nice,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna ruin your reputation,” she teased. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But you were kind that night, Jason. And all the times afterward. I was able to see a future for myself because of you. It was a long time before I had to remember what nothing felt like again.”

“Me either,” Jason said with another hesitant smile. “That winter—I thought I did, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Exactly.” She tipped her beer against his. “This is what we do, Jason. We take care of each other. We don’t keep score. We don’t worry about obligation. That’s not us. I’m right where I want be because if the tables were turned—I know you’d be doing the same for me.”

“I didn’t always take care of you,” he forced out, and she sighed. “With Jake—”

“And I didn’t always take care of you,” she reminded him. “But I’m not keeping score on that either. This isn’t a ledger, Jason. There’s no black or red. There’s just us.” When he smiled again, it was more genuine and she relaxed. “Now, we can either start a bar fight, which I’m not opposed to, or we can keep drinking and we’ll call an Uber to drive us home.” She lifted the tequila. “You wanna do another round?”

“Yeah.” Jason shoved the shot glass towards her. “Let’s do another.”

← Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Three →