You’re the reason I believe in love
And you’re the answer to my prayers from up above
All we need is just the two of us
My dreams came true because of you
– From This Moment On, Shania Twain

---

Saturday, January 8, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason pushed open the door and found Elizabeth curled up in the chair at the desk, the phone at her ear.

“No, I’m glad—I’m looking forward to it—” She glanced over her shoulder to smile at Jason, and he took a deep breath, because all her smiles hit different now, and he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what to do with this incredibly confident and eager version of Elizabeth, but he thought it would be worth finding out.

“What?” Elizabeth said, looking away from Jason, her cheeks heating. She bit her lip, and he shook his head, went to close the door. “No, sorry, Jason came in, and I got distracted. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone and laughed when he spun the chair around so she faced him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When he started to straighten, to lift himself up, she didn’t move her arms, so he just took her with him. Her legs went around his waist, and he gave serious consideration to the sofa behind them, or maybe the new pool table—

Jason set her on the arm of the sofa, took another deep breath. “Who was on the phone?”

“Oh, that was Emily. She came up for the weekend, and she’ll be here until Monday. We’re going to have lunch tomorrow.” Elizabeth hesitated, and her eyes sobered. “Sonny came over.”

His own mood blackened at the name. He moved past her and dropped onto the sofa. “To talk to you about the reception.”

Elizabeth remained on the arm of the sofa, but twisted, so that she was facing him, her feet on the sofa cushion. “Yeah. He came over pretty quick after you left, and I think—”

“He arranged for me to be gone so he could plead his case.” Jason just shook his head, leaned back against the sofa, his face tilted up towards the ceiling. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t really let him get that far. I told him he was a bad friend and that he doesn’t get to divide and conquer. I also told him to go to hell.”

Jason frowned, looked at her. “You did?”

“When I was a kid, I used to pull that kind of thing. You know, Mom says no, so you go ask Dad, he says yes, and Mom has to look like the bad guy or give in — and, like, yeah, when you’re six, that’s okay. Because you’re six. But it’s kind of…” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a great look for a someone to be pulling that on his friend. Sonny and I are not friends. We don’t have a history or anything. I only know him because I know you. It’s…just irritating. What if you hadn’t said anything to me? What if you’d just said no, and thought it was the end of it?”

“What would you say if Sonny had asked you? If I hadn’t told you I don’t want to do it.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. I probably would have said that I’d do whatever you wanted to do. And I’d still be weirded out if Sonny came to me over it. I don’t like that he doesn’t care if he creates problems for us.”

“Me either.” Jason tumbled her into his lap, and she cuddled against him. “Thank you.”

“We’re a team.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “Now about the bike—”

He just laughed and cut her off with his mouth.

Sunday, January 9, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“Hey.” Elizabeth dropped into the chair across from Emily. “How’s New York?”

“It’s fine.” Emily twisted, looked behind her. “Jason couldn’t be here?”

“No, he had work.” Elizabeth picked up a menu and scanned it. “Maybe if you’re still in town tomorrow, you could—”

“He’s working? Didn’t you just get married? I knew it.” Emily sat back. “I knew something was weird about all of this.”

Elizabeth looked at Emily, baffled. “What?”

“Since the Christmas Party, you’ve both been acting really strange,” Emily said. “I mean, I’m trying to be okay with all of it, and I’m still glad it’s not Carly, but you have to admit, this all feels really forced.”

Her good mood which had been mostly permanent for the last twenty-fours, save for the Sonny confrontation, dimmed. “Forced.”

“Is it about the business?” Emily lowered her voice. “Are you helping Jason cover up something?”

Carefully, Elizabeth set the menu side. “Because he couldn’t possibly want to marry me otherwise, right?” She reminded herself that Emily was partially right, but it was hard to focus on it. After all, she and Jason were actually married. Sharing a bed. Sharing it often. Which was better to focus on, not how the narrow-minded people around her thought.

But this was Emily. Her best friend. Jason’s sister. Who was supposed to know both of them better than anyone else. And some of that confidence she’d been steadily building since yesterday morning—

Well, it wasn’t bullet proof.

“Elizabeth, that’s not what I meant—”

“But it’s what you think. It’s what plenty of people think.” Their opinions didn’t matter, she reminded herself. They just didn’t.

But Emily’s did. And it stung. Because it was a reminder that the ring on her finger wasn’t hers forever. That there was a built-in exit plan — even if they never used it — it existed.

And Jason was happy right now with what she could offer, but maybe he was just amused by her — she’d been like a puppy, so eager for any piece of affection—

“I just think it moved really fast,” Emily said. “You know I’m not wrong. A week ago, you were worried about—”

“I know what I was worried about—” Elizabeth sat back. “You were ready to run away with Juan after a few weeks—”

Emily flushed. “A few months. And I didn’t—”

“Because Juan got here first.”

“You and Jason, this is like a couple of weeks. Jason was with Robin forever and never married her—where are you going?” Emily blinked in confusion. “You just got here.”

“I lost my appetite.” She jerked away from the table and stalked out.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

He’d figured on distracting himself with a few hours of grunt work to distract himself while Elizabeth went to lunch, but Sonny had just followed Jason down to the warehouse to talk to him again about the damned reception, so Jason had left almost as soon as he’d arrived.

He went back to the penthouse to wait for Elizabeth. Maybe she would want to take a ride. The roads were clear, and they were supposed to get snow the next day. It would be the last chance for a while—

He found her out on the balcony, the doors wide open, letting the swirl of January winds into the penthouse. Not that he cared, but—

Jason stepped out onto the balcony. “Hey, are you okay?”

Elizabeth turned, then blinked at the doors behind him. “Oh. I didn’t realize—” She sighed. “I just got back from lunch with Emily, and she thinks—it doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “I’m just not in the mood to deal with her.”

He joined her on the balcony. “Do you want to talk about it?” He drew off his jacket and dropped it on her shoulders. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I didn’t want to feel anything,” Elizabeth replied, then made a face. “It sounds stupid now. I was in such a good mood and now—”

Jason ran his hands down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. He cupped her face and kissed her, frowning when she remained tense in his arms. “Hey. What’s going on?”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, her lashes sweeping across her cheeks, hiding her eyes from him. “It’s…I’m going to say it out loud, and it’s going to sound stupid because it is stupid, and I know it is, but you know, you can’t always convince your brain—”

“Then let me convince you.” He brushed kisses against her closed eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened with Emily?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t even really say anything bad, but you know—” Her eyes finally opened, and he saw a hint of color sweeping across her cheeks. “She said something that I shouldn’t care about, and I don’t, but it triggered this thought in my brain—and you’re doing that thing with your eyes now where I know you’re trying to listen, but you can’t follow—”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” When she just stubbornly shook her head, he sighed. He lifted her up and carried her inside, setting her on the edge of the pool table. He kicked the balcony door closed behind him. “Elizabeth.”

“I was really…happy yesterday,” she confessed softly, and peeked up at him through the curtain of hair that had tumbled in front of her face. He swept it back, combing through it. “And I know you….I mean, you know. I know. But then Emily started asking questions about why we got married, and how no one thinks it’s because we wanted to, and I know that’s true, but it’s, like, one thing to know it’s true, but for other people to think it, it kind of hurts, which I know—” She pressed her lips together. “I guess maybe I started wondering if maybe I’d…I don’t know. I started to get…”

“Started to get what?”

“I don’t know. Embarrassed?” Elizabeth admitted. “I practically jumped you every time you opened your mouth yesterday—”

“Yeah, real tough day for me,” he replied, and she laughed, a bit startled. She met his eyes. “Yesterday was good. Better than good,” he added, and her cheeks pinked up more. “And I know how nervous you were. How hard it was for you to trust me.”

“It was, until it wasn’t. And I guess that’s the strangest part, almost. Just how much the fear seemed to take over everything—” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck. “And how much room there was for everything else once it was gone.”

“And I think you forget that it wasn’t just you yesterday.” He pressed his thumb against her lip, which she’d bit again. “You don’t need to be embarrassed by anything we share. And I’m sorry if Emily said something to hurt you.”

“She didn’t mean to. I’m still getting used to you…” Her face was cherry red now. “Getting to the idea that I’d…be enough. You know. In bed. Because I want to be. I just—”

“You are perfect, just the way you are.” He kissed her again and this time, she relaxed into his arms, melting against him in the way he’d grown used to. This was better, he thought. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”

“Does it—” She drew back, licked her lips. “Does it have to be upstairs?”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason woke abruptly later that night, though he couldn’t say why. The room was pitch dark, without even a glimmer of moonlight sliding through the curtains. Snow had moved in a few hours ago, clouding out any light in the night sky.

He listened intently—had there been a door creak or footsteps that had jarred him out of sleep? But there was nothing. Just the sound of Elizabeth’s soft breathing. She was curled against his side, her arm hooked across his chest, the tips of her fingers brushing his shoulder.

She was still sleeping deeply, though that didn’t mean anything. Elizabeth barely responded to an alarm clock blaring right next to her head.

But there was nothing in the penthouse. No sounds. No movements. Nothing outside beyond the whirl of wind and sleeting snow against the windowpane. There was no threat. Just his own thoughts.

He closed his eyes, tried to slide back into sleep. He’d done this before, in the studio, when he’d had pain or worry about the world outside. He’d focus on Elizabeth, sleeping just below him on the floor. Her breathing always lulled him back to sleep, and it was even better now. She was in his arms, and he could feel her soft skin everywhere, her breath warm against his skin where her face tucked into his shoulder.

He stroked her back, and she moved slightly. Her breath changed, and he winced. Had he woken her?

She shifted, her hand sliding down his chest, away from his shoulders, towards herself, and then she slid up on her elbow. “Jason?” she asked, her words slurred. “Are you awake?”

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” he murmured. He touched her face, brushing her hair back, but he couldn’t resist sliding his fingers down her cheek to her neck. He couldn’t see her very well in the dark, but he knew she wasn’t going to listen.

“What’s wrong?” She shivered, and he reached for the blanket that had slid down. He tucked it around her shoulders, but he could see the white of her eyes and knew she was awake now.

“Nothing,” Jason said, but Elizabeth didn’t accept that. She reached across him, straining for the lamp on his night table. He squinted when the soft light flooded the room and illuminated her face, worry etched into her features.

“Jason—”

He laid back, stared at the ceiling, the way the light cast shadows above them. She tucked herself back into his side. “We have to do the reception.”

“I know.”

Jason frowned, but he didn’t look at her. Still stared at the ceiling. “How did you—”

“Sonny said yes. It’s why you were so angry.” She tilted her head up so that her chin rested on his shoulder, and now he met her eyes. “Once he said yes, it didn’t matter what you wanted or what I wanted. It was already done.”

And that was it, of course. That was why he’d woken in the middle of the night. Why he’d avoided talking about it with Sonny earlier, refusing to engage. It didn’t matter. Sonny wasn’t asking Jason, and he hadn’t presented it that way. He’d just told him. This was how it was, and there was no choice.

“I don’t know why things are like this between you and Sonny,” Elizabeth continued, “but I know something’s wrong. You don’t have to tell me,” she added. “It’s just that I’m worried. Your job is to take orders from him, isn’t it?”

And it was that simple, wasn’t it? Would Jason be this resistant if that night in December hadn’t happened? If Sonny hadn’t already proved that he was no better than the Quartermaines or Robin or anyone else who thought Jason didn’t know how to think for himself—

“It is,” Jason said hesitantly. “But not about this. Not when it involves you.”

“But it’s not about me—”

Restless, Jason slid out of bed and reached for the briefs nearby on the floor. “Yes it is, but I can’t explain why.” Didn’t want to explain it. Didn’t want to explain to Elizabeth that it all traced back to that horrible moment standing in Sonny’s penthouse, bleeding from a bullet he’d taken for Sonny, watching the woman he thought he loved saunter down the stairs in Sonny’s shirt.

How did he begin to tell her about any of that without making it seem like it was the sex that bothered him? It had in the beginning, but then it didn’t anymore. And after watching Elizabeth’s face change that day in the church—

He didn’t want to go through it again.

“You don’t have to—” Elizabeth began, but for some reason that answer irritated him. He turned back towards her, some of his frustration bubbling up and out.

“Stop that,” he said, and it sounded harsher than he’d meant it to because she flinched, then swallowed hard. She dragged the blanket up more tightly, seeming to draw back inside herself.

Jason dragged his hands over his face. “Stop telling me I don’t have to explain myself,” he said, a bit more calmly but the damage was done. “This is about you. Don’t tell me what I’m feeling.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Elizabeth tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to. I just—I just don’t think Sonny sees it as it being about me, and maybe that’s the disconnect, you know? He’s seeing it as business, and you don’t—”

Jason just shook his head and walked away, went over to the window to shove aside the curtain. The bedroom sat over the living room, so the view from here was the same as the balcony, over the lake and the harbor though he could barely see either through the snow.

He heard rustling behind him and turned. Elizabeth had reached for the first clothing she could find—the gray sweater he’d discarded somewhere on the floor, and his mood softened. The collar slid to one side, and the hem hit her midway on the thighs. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize—”

“No, I just—” He sighed. “This would be easier if I told you why Sonny and I are having issues, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Because it involves Carly.”

Jason drew his brows together. “How—”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She folded her arms, tucking the ends of the sleeves into her palms. “You talked about Carly doing something that made you see who she really was, and you cut them both out at the same time. Why else would you be so mad at Sonny over me? Because it’s not about me,” she said flatly. “It’s because of Carly. They slept together, right? The night you were shot.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a slow nod, and she sighed. “I’m not mad about that. Not the way you think. I was for a while, but I meant what I told you the day we got married. That I see Carly for who she is, and I’m glad—”

“Jason—”

“And I wouldn’t give a damn about it anymore if it hadn’t been for what Sonny said to me the day after,” Jason hurried to add, and she frowned at him. “He came to the boxcar and told me that now I knew who they both were. He did it because he thought I was better off without Carly.”

She swallowed hard, looked away, and swallowed hard. Jason hurried to explain, “he was right. I know that. But it wasn’t his place to prove it to me.”

“Okay—”

“I thought he understood that. I thought—” Jason shook his head, looked away from her again, out the window to the blinding snow. It had snowed like this the night he’d gone to the boxcar. He’d laid out on the ground, waiting for the numbness to seep throughout his entire body. “I never expected much of Carly, but Sonny was supposed to know better. He was—” How did he explain this? How did he make her understand when he could barely put it into words for himself?

“You told me once that Robin and Sonny had taught you everything you knew,” Elizabeth said. He met her eyes. “And that you grew up in Sonny’s eyes, but not Robin’s.”

That was it. Exactly. He swallowed again. “Robin thought she knew what was best for me. She was right about Carly using Michael, but I didn’t care. I knew she was. But I wanted Michael. It was worth it to me. Robin took the choice away from me. Just like the Quartermaines,” he murmured.

“And Sonny did that again with Carly.”

“Yes.”

“And now he’s doing it again with this reception thing.” Elizabeth reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I was wrong about Carly. I know Robin and Sonny were right. And maybe the Quartermaines were right, too. I don’t know. But it wasn’t their job—” His throat tightened. “I’m not damaged. I’m allowed to make mistakes, and no one—” He couldn’t force out the words anymore. Couldn’t make himself finish.

“No one has the right to make choices for you.” Elizabeth clasped his hand between both of hers, bringing it to her chest, resting it against her heart. “Or tell you what you’re feeling. Or be angry when you don’t live your life the way they think you should.”

He nodded. Cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can keep working for Sonny if this is how it’s going to be.” He met her eyes. “But I don’t know who I am if I don’t work for Sonny. I don’t have anything else.”

“You have me,” Elizabeth said. “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s not nothing, right?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s not where either one of us lives anymore. You told me that the day we got married. That I dragged you back into living. Let me keep doing that.”

He dipped his head, kissed her, wishing there were words. Wishing he could make her understand just what she’d done for him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her in his arms, marveling for just a moment that he could do this now. That she’d trusted him.

“Do you know why this happened yesterday?” She murmured against his lips, hooking her legs around his waist. He carried her back to the bed and set her down. “Because you gave me the choice. When you told me what Sonny had said about not needing the whole year.”

Jason blinked, a bit confused by that. He drew back, but Elizabeth just smiled. “You let me make the choice for myself,” she continued, tracing her thumbs over his cheekbones.  “Trust me to keep making that choice, and I promise you I won’t ever make one for you. We’ll do this stupid reception. And then—when you know what you want to do, I’ll still be here.”

“Yeah?” He leaned down and kissed the shoulder left bare by his sweater. “For the whole year?”

“For however long you want me.”

Jason focused on her, on the way she’d said the words and what she might mean, then he kissed her again, losing himself in how she tasted and felt. He didn’t need anything but her.

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