But I’m a fire, and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade ocean wave blues come
All these people think love’s for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

August 2002

“But just for tonight…I don’t want to be safe.”

The words were soft, almost carried away by the breeze rolling off the lake, but they reached his ears, and Jason turned, looked at her, at her quiet expression.

Elizabeth reached for his hand, tugging it from his pocket, then wrapped her soft fingers around it. He stared down at it, wondering why, even with the bandage on her arm, she was still standing here, looking at him like he wasn’t anything but death and poison to anyone standing too close.

He swallowed, tried to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t release it. Instead, she stepped closer, brought the other hand up to lay it against his chest, her touch searing straight through the black cotton shirt.

“Elizabeth.”

“Tonight. Just tonight,” she said, her hand sliding up to his neck, brushing the line of his jaw. “You can walk away from me tomorrow.”

Jason swallowed hard. “I don’t want to walk away from you at all.” She’d done the walking, hadn’t she? “But I—”

“—have to, I know you believe that.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “But Sonny’s not going home alone tonight, is he? Why should you?”

He closed his eyes, thinking of nothing else but the way her skin felt against his, the caress of her fingers against his cheek. “Elizabeth?”

“Unless you don’t want me.” He heard the uncertainty now in her voice, and his eyes flew back open. Her lips trembled. “I thought I’d misread everything before, and I made a mistake. But then, at the warehouse, y-you looked at me.”

He’d wanted her for too long, and now she was standing here, offering herself — all he had to do was reach for her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I only hurt without you, Jason.” She stepped towards him, closer and closer until her body brushed his. Her hand curved around the nape of his neck, her nails lightly scratching at his hairline—everything tightened, and he thought — why was he saying no? Why wouldn’t he just take what she wanted to give him?

“Just for tonight,” Jason said, and her lips parted. “And you won’t argue with me tomorrow?”

Her lips curved, and a knowing glint sparked in her eye, and he lost his breath at how beautiful she was and how stupid he was for still standing here instead of dragging her to the nearest room. “I’ll make you a deal. If you wake up tomorrow, and you haven’t changed your mind, I won’t say a word.”

He couldn’t help himself — he smiled, shook his head. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you know when I want something, when I really want it, I don’t let anything stand in my way. It just took me a little time to realize that something—someone—is you.” She was wistful now. “I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened—”

He pressed a finger against her lips. “No more apologies,” he said. He stroked the line of her jaw. “Come with me.”

“Anywhere.”

He changed their grip on their joined hands, tugging her towards the dock stairs. Before he lost his nerve, before she changed her mind.

It was a short ride from the parking lot at Kelly’s to the garage underneath Harborview Towers. Her fingers were trembling when she handed him the helmet, and she tried to hide it by smoothing out her hair, mussed from the ride.

Jason caught her hand, felt the tremors. “If you’ve changed your mind—”

“That’s not why I’m—” She leaned up, pressed her mouth to his, backing him against the wall of the parking garage, winding her arms around his neck. Startled, Jason took a half second to register her meaning — she’d been shaking not from nerves, but desire.

He gripped her waist, dragging her tight against him, digging his fingers into the fabric of her black dress. “We need to get on the elevator now,” he murmured against her neck. “Or we’re going to end up on the security cameras.”

Her cheeks were flaming, her eyes dazed when he pulled back. Her hand tucked firmly in his, he headed for the elevators, stabbing his finger at the button, muttering impatiently. What if she changed her mind halfway up, what if he came to his senses—

The doors dinged and Elizabeth pulled him on board. He hit the button for the penthouse floor.  “There are cameras, aren’t there?” she asked, wistfully. “You and Sonny are too careful for there not to be.”

It might be the first time he regretted the security that kept the building safe. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Yeah.”

She sighed. “Fine. I can wait fifteen floors.”

He shook his head, grinning slightly. “Stand over there or I’ll forget the cameras are there.” She shot him another wicked look, but obeyed, backing up against the other side of the elevator. How did she do it, he wondered? Less than an hour ago, he’d been laid low, and now all he could see was her, standing across from him, her hair windblown and tangled from his hands, her lips swollen from his kisses—

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors opened. Elizabeth fisted a hand in his shirt, pushed him out into the hallway, fastening her hot mouth against his. He hit the hallway wall hard, one hand in her hair, the other digging in his pockets for the keys.

“Still cameras,” he managed against her mouth, and she groaned, resting her head against his chest. “Let me get my keys—stop distracting me—”

“Distracting you? You’re the one looking at me like that,” she grumbled, but he towed her towards the door, shoving the key in and twisting it. He threw open the door, didn’t even bother to retrieve the keys from the lock. He pulled her inside, and got the door shut just as she pushed him against it, her hands at his waist, tugging at the belt he wore. She whipped it out of the loops, and dimly he heard it hit something behind them.

His fingers fumbled for the zipper of her dress, but kept losing it in her hair, and getting distracted by her quick hands reaching inside his pants—  “This will be over too quick if you keep that up,” he warned her.

“Promises, promises,” she moaned, but he wasn’t going to let it be like that. With one hand, held both her wrists together over her head, then turned her so that he could get to the zipper on her dress. He tugged it down, then released her hands to peel the fabric over her shoulders—she shimmied and wiggled until it had pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lacy black scraps.

Jason dropped his head to her shoulder, took a deep breath. “Oh, man. I changed my mind.”

Her eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits. “I’m going to kill you—”

“Not about that—” He kissed her, cupping her face with both hands. “About tomorrow.”

“What does that mean?” She drew back, looked at him. “Jason—”

“It means you don’t have to argue with me. I can’t—” Some of the urgency faded, and he brushed his mouth against hers, kissing her reverently, slowly, until she nearly collapsed against him. “If this is what you want. If I’m what you want—”

“You know you are.” She licked her lips. “I know what I’m getting into, Jason, I’ve always known. And if being safe means not having you, then I told you, I don’t want to be safe. I want this. I want you.”

She found the hem of his shirt, whipped it over his head, then splayed her hands against his muscled chest, the feel of the lace scraping against his skin. “Do you want me?”

“More than my next breath.” He kissed her again, then lifted her in his arms. “But I’m going to do this right.”

“Right? What happened to right now?” she asked with a pout as he headed towards the stairs.

“Oh, it’s still right now. But we’ve got all night.”

“Fine. Ravish me in a bed instead of against a door,” she said with a sigh. “We can always come back to that.”

“I like the way you think.”

+21

Betty, I’m here on your doorstep
And I planned it out for weeks now, but
It’s finally sinkin’ in
Betty, right now is the last time
I can dream about what happens when
You see my face again

July 2004

She’d thought about this day for more than a month, since the moment they’d placed her perfectly healthy baby boy in her arms on the day of his birth. A little scrap of life that had no business owning a set of developed lungs when he’d been born well before his due date.

“I don’t understand,” she’d told the doctor. “The doctor said the baby was measuring bigger than expected, but—”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Miss Webber. But that’s not a seven-month preemie you’re holding in your arms. He’s a full-term baby. Count yourself lucky. No trip to the NICU for him. You can both be released tomorrow.”

“Oh, boy,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked down at her son, all the possibilities and improbable thoughts swirling in her head. How could it be true?

But how could it be wrong?

She’d wanted to have all the answers, to be sure, before she went home and complicated everything. Especially with the stories Emily was telling her during their weekly calls. Elizabeth listened as Emily described the grief of losing Nikolas, and the bewildering twists and turns her brother’s life was taking.

“It’s like he’s someone else, Liz. I don’t get it.”

Neither did Elizabeth, but the truth was the truth, so she’d asked her OB to get her records from Port Charles, and he’d been curious, too, reading over the prenatal files she’d brought with her.

“I agree with you, your doctor in New York doesn’t appear to have questioned the information you gave him about your last menstrual cycle, but you said you’d had some health issues that year?”

“Oh. So many,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “Why?”

“Well, you know, stress and illness can cause problems with that. But you told me there was a car accident.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, it should have been found then. Was it serious?”

“Sort of. I had a head injury—” But nothing else. Barely a bruise on the rest of her body. She bit her lip. “Can you find out? Can’t we ask them what tests they ran? You could get those files.”

And so he had, and Elizabeth sat in her little rented apartment in Napa, staring at the results. Negative test. Well, that was that, of course.  She hadn’t been pregnant the night of the accident.

“Well, that doesn’t mean anything,” her doctor had said when Elizabeth had reported that. “Looking over the file, it makes sense that you wouldn’t have miscarried. And you said the only possible conception date was a few days prior to this?”

“Yes—”

“It takes ten days for your body to register the pregnancy. I’m sorry, Miss Webber. I know you were looking for some definitive proof before you, ah, informed the interested party, but the only thing that can resolve this is a paternity test.”

That had been the last thing Elizabeth wanted to hear — to go home, to step into the middle of that mess with a maybe you’re already a father, whoops! — was the height of insanity.

But then her son took care of it for her, at least in her own mind. Cameron had been born with clear blue eyes, but so were all babies, she’d told herself. As the weeks passed, and Cam lost some of that newborn look—

One morning, she strapped him into the safety seat on her kitchen counter, and tickled him under his chin— Cameron had opened his eyes, looked at her, and she’d known. Those were his eyes. The color. The shape. And once she’d seen that, there wasn’t much else to argue with herself about.

But still, Elizabeth hesitated, because the situation at home was only more dicey. Nikolas was alive with amnesia, and Emily was in the middle of scheming to get him back. And her baby’s father—well, his situation had gotten more fraught. He’d divorced, nearly married another woman who was also pregnant with his child (though Emily had her doubts, she’d confided during a call), and an ex-boyfriend had come after her—it was all crazy. Elizabeth was lucky she was far away from it all.

To go home and tell him that maybe but almost certainly, he’d made another baby while he’d been engaged to the same woman he’d apparently (maybe) cheated on again after they were married to make a second kid—

Maybe Elizabeth should just live in California forever and no one would ask questions.

But then Cameron turned eight weeks old, and he looked so much like his father that it wasn’t a maybe, almost certainly anymore but a definitely, for sure, holy crap.

And then she got the call that Lila Quartermaine had passed in her sleep.

Elizabeth gave notice to her landlord, apologizing and promising to pay the fee for breaking her lease. She’d packed her baby up, and boarded a plane.

The day was here—she’d plotted and rehearsed the speech a thousand times. Hi, remember me?  No, that was stupid. Hey. One time we had sex which wasn’t a good idea, but now here’s the result—

No, that wasn’t right either. Wanna play guess who’s the daddy?

She rewrote and rewrote the script a dozen times, trying to think of every variation of the truth and every possible reaction he’d have—

And yet, the moment arrived, and she was still blank. What would she say? How would he react? Oh, God, how would everyone else react?

He’d never taken her off the list of visitors allowed unannounced access to the penthouse floor, and Elizabeth appreciated that small reminder that they were friends, and that whatever happened, it would somehow be okay. Eventually.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Elizabeth cuddled her son more closely, took a deep breath. Here it was. No more imagining what would happen. This was it. The last moment to turn back.

But someone downstairs must have called up anyway because the door to the penthouse opened, and Jason stepped out, smiling at her. “Hey. Wally said you were coming up. I didn’t know you were back.” He looked at the baby in her arms, then back at her. “How was the flight?”

“Long. Babies don’t like to fly,” Elizabeth said almost breathlessly. “Um—”

“Yeah, there’s something about the air pressure. I remember that with Michael.” Jason’s smiled faded slightly, and he looked at her. “Is Ric bothering you? Is that what you came by for? Because I’ll take care of it—”

“N-no. No one knows I’m back yet. I’m—” She took a deep breath. “I came to see you.”

Jason tilted his head slightly, opened his mouth, but then another woman stepped out behind him, with dark hair, and a bulging belly. “What are you doing out here?” the woman demanded. Sam. This was Sam. The mother of Jason’s other maybe child. She looked at Elizabeth, at the baby —

And saw what Elizabeth had seen that day in the kitchen. Her dark eyes widened. “Oh. Damn. That’s going to complicate things.”

“What?” Jason asked.

Sam had seen so the truth so quickly that it gave Elizabeth a little bit of courage. “I don’t want to complicate anything,” she told the other woman. “It’s just—I can’t do anything to change what is.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m going to go inside,” Sam said. She pursed her lips, looked at Jason for a long moment, then back at the baby, then at Elizabeth. “Oh, hey, by the way, Jason didn’t knock me up in case that helps—”

“Sam—” Jason started, but the other woman had already headed for the penthouse, tossing a half-hearted wave over her shoulder. “Elizabeth—”

“He was born the first week of May,” Elizabeth said in a rush. “And the doctors were worried because I was only seven months pregnant—but then he was born, and he wasn’t—” She swallowed hard, and now she saw Jason looking at her, the realization creeping into his eyes. “He wasn’t premature. I—I didn’t know that. I would have said something, but I didn’t know.”

Jason stepped closer to her, a hand raising up, hovering just a few inches in front of Cameron, the baby’s eyes following his fingers, then reaching for them. His hand wrapped around Jason’s thumb.

“I know this the last thing you expected, and I wanted you to know that I’m not asking for anything you don’t want to give because I know I can do this on my own, but you needed to know—”

“You still haven’t told me,” Jason said, his voice almost inaudible. He raised his eyes to hers. “Can you—I need to hear you say it.”

“He’s yours,” Elizabeth said, and Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened them, she saw the flood of emotion, the hope— She held him out. “You’re his father, Jason.”

Jason took the baby from her, gently tucking him into the crook of his arm. “I’m his father,” he repeated, then he looked at her and grinned. “He’s mine?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry. I should have come sooner, but—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Jason reached for her arm. “You’re here now. And I can explain what’s going on with Sam. Come inside. I want to know everything.”

+25

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars
From when they pulled me apart
But what you did was just as dark
Darling, this was just as hard
As when they pulled me apart

February 2007

“What about our baby?”

He asked the question, but he knew what she’d say next. What she always said next. How many years had he been trapped in this vicious cycle? One step forward, five steps back, and somehow, Jason never got to be the one who came out ahead. He was always somewhere back at the starting line, never sure why no one had even told him they were competing.

Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment, her beautiful blue eyes heavy with sorrow, and he knew the answer. She wanted him to let her keep living the lie, to keep pretending that Lucky Spencer would ever make her happy—

She opened her mouth to say the words that would reach inside his chest, rip out his heart, and grind beneath the heel of her shoe—

But somehow, this time, he stopped it. He held up a hand. “Don’t say it.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, bewildered. “I can’t hear you say it.”

“Jason—” She sucked in a shaky sob. “Don’t do this—”

“Don’t do what?”  he managed. “Be hurt? Angry?” He shook his head, looked out over the horizon. Even now, he wasn’t really angry with her. Not deep down. Even when she deserved it. He should be. She’d lied to him for months—

But he’d started it by accepting Carly’s words as the truth, and he’d never given her the space to tell the truth. No one had. She’d finally done it, and he’d thought they’d turned a corner.

“You said it yourself,” Elizabeth said. “Sam would be so hurt—”

“I know that—” Jason winced, exhaled, and shook his head. “I know. But I can’t let that matter.” He looked at her, really looked at her, letting everything he felt show in his eyes—the bewilderment, the hurt — “Is Lucky a better father than me?”

“No! Of course not—”

“Then why? I’m telling you I want to be this child’s father. I’m telling you how much it matters to me—” His voice was rough, almost broken, because why wasn’t he ever good enough? “And you’re going to take that away from me.”

Tears shimmered, then slid down her cheeks. “I just—the truth is going to hurt so many people—”

“Are you sorry that this baby is mine?” he cut in.

“No, I told you on the elevator—” She closed her eyes, turned away. She flattened both her hands against the ledge. “But how can you believe me when I’m doing this to you?” she said almost to herself. “How did I get myself right back into this situation?”

“Elizabeth—”

“I keep doing and saying the wrong thing, and all I do is hurt people. Nothing I do is ever right. I’m so tired, Jason. Of hurting you. I don’t know why I keep doing it. I knew what I was asking was awful. Terrible. Especially after Alan, and I was doing it anyway.” She looked at him. “I keep hurting you. Why? Why do I always pick the wrong choice?”

“What do you want?” he asked, taking her by the shoulder. “If you really want Lucky, if you want to rebuild your life with him, I can accept that. I know you loved him before he got hurt. I know how seriously you take your promises. You married him, Elizabeth. That matters to you. But what kind of life can you have built on a lie?”

Her lip trembled. “I don’t know.”

“You’re asking me this because you know he won’t marry you again if he knew.”

She closed her eyes, nodded. “No. He’d be furious.” She opened her eyes again, tears clinging to her lashes. “You asked me to marry you even before you knew this baby was yours. Did you mean that?”

Startled, Jason dragged a hand through his hair. “Y-Yes. I meant it. Every time I asked you—”

“Says something doesn’t it.” Her exhale was shaky. “I’m not going to ask you. You deserve better. My child deserves better,” she murmured. “Lucky wouldn’t have gone to rehab if he’d known. I wasn’t enough.”

“Elizabeth.”

“Cameron and I weren’t enough to get sober. That’s why I left. Why I divorced him. And this baby was only enough because it was supposed to be his.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not asking you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I started this conversation, I’m sorry I put you through any of this.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Jason said, touching her shoulder. “I just want you to be okay. To be happy.”

“Happy,” she repeated, with a sigh. “I’m not sure I even know what that is anymore. You weren’t even angry with me. Frustrated. Disappointed. Hurt. But not angry.” She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Why aren’t you ever angry with me? Why do you let me keep hurting you like this?”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “Because you’re usually hurting yourself worse than whatever you’re doing to me. You’re the one that would have had to live with this lie, Elizabeth. Day in and day out. Watching Lucky with this baby, knowing it’s not his. What if he looks like me? How long before the guilt would eat you alive? I know you, Elizabeth. You always put Lucky first, and you think that’s what you’re doing now. But maybe Lucky deserves better, too.”

“Maybe we all do.” She rubbed her cheek, then sighed. “It’s so hard, and it really shouldn’t be.” She smiled faintly. “I’m going to tell him the truth. That you’re the father of my child, and that you’re going to be in my life. You’re the father. And you deserve to be, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

“And you’ll tell Sam?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll go home and do that.” It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to, but they’d get past it. At least Sam knew the situation existed, which was more than Lucky did. “But I’ll wait for you to tell Lucky. In case—”

“In case I change my mind.” Elizabeth held his gaze for a long moment, then reached into her pocket, retrieving her cell phone. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she raised it to her ear. “Lucky? Hey. Do you have a minute? Okay. I have to tell you something, and I have to do it before I lose my nerve, so don’t interrupt—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason said, keeping his voice pitched low. “You don’t have to—”

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for months, but I keep finding reasons not to, but it stops today. I slept with Jason in August, and he’s the baby’s biological father.” The words tumbled out in a rush. Even from here, Jason could hear Lucky’s raised voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t marry you again without you—” Her voice broke, and she held out the phone. “He hung up.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was easier,” she murmured. “If I’d been looking at him in the eye, I’d might never have done it. I couldn’t even tell you until I thought I was going to die.”

“Okay, but—”

“You should probably…go find Sam. Tell her. Lucky knows now, and I don’t know how he’ll handle it.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that part.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t think—” He cleared his throat. “I should go then. Do you need—”

“We’ll deal with all of that later, Jason.” She managed a smile. “I feel better, you know. Not great, because I’m pretty sure I just blew up my life, but at least—well, at least there are no more lies. I can live with whatever happens next.”

“Thank you—”

“Don’t thank me for doing what I should have done months ago. I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I never had a right to keep you out of this, and I won’t do it again. Thank you for not letting me do it this time.”

+20

Now I breathe flames each time I talk
My cannons all firin’ at your yacht
They say, “Move on”, but you know, I won’t
And women like hunting witches, too
Doing your dirtiest work for you
It’s obvious that wanting me dead
Has really brought you two together

September 2007

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been filled with this kind of fury — this overwhelming, all-consuming blind rage.

For over a year, she’d been walking around in a fog of lies, guilt, and secrets, twisting herself inside and out to do what she believed was right for her children. She’d done unspeakably horrible things to people who deserved more from her in the name of saving her marriage because she’d been so sure he was the father her boys deserved.

And now, in the middle of the living room that she’d used to dream about calling her own, the last of those blind shields faded away. Elizabeth looked at her husband, at the man she’d pledged to love and to honor and to cherish, and wondered exactly when all of those words had become lies to them both.

“We don’t need to make this difficult,” Lucky said, shoving his hands in his pockets, his tone cool and confident. “The house is mine, you knew that when Dad offered it—but you can take all the time you need if you don’t want to go to Audrey’s—”

“We don’t need to make this difficult,” Elizabeth repeated. “I’m sorry. You just walked in this door, told me you were sleeping with another woman, and now you think you’re going to dictate the terms of walking away from me?”  Her lips curved. “Really? You think that’s how it’s going to go?”

Lucky sighed. “I understand that you’re hurt, but you lied to me—”

“You think I feel guilty because I didn’t tell you I slept with Jason? Hey, let’s talk about that night, huh? Do you remember what you were doing? Or should I ask, who you were doing? In our bed?”

Lucky pressed his lips together. “So, what, Maxie was your get out of jail free card—”

“You’re damn right she is. Because my night with Jason was one night. And your affair with Maxie? Continued. Or did you think Nikolas wouldn’t tell me he found you with her in Kelly’s before I filed for divorce?”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, listen—”

“Go on, explain to me why somehow that’s still not your fault. Just like shoving me to the ground, telling so many people that I’d been sleeping with Patrick that Epiphany and Kelly thought he might be Jake’s father.” She folded her arms. “I am dying to know how you’re going to get yourself out of this one.”

“Okay—look, maybe we don’t talk about last year—”

“Why? Isn’t that why you went out and slept with Sam? Revenge for Jason?” Elizabeth stepped closer to him. “Because she made you feel like a man? She paid attention to you? She stroked your…ego? All the things I refuse to do? Isn’t that how it happened?”

“I shouldn’t have had to go to another woman to get some damn affection—” Lucky retorted.   “You’re just angry that I could get it from someone else—”

“I’m angry because I twisted myself into pieces I don’t even recognize to be good enough for you, and I’m asking myself why the hell I ever thought you were worth it.” She tossed her hair back. “You’re not. You are nothing more than a little boy screaming that he’s a man while we all laugh at your face.”

His face was florid. “Shut up—”

“You think Sam gives a damn about you? You think what you have is real?” She snorted, and his flush darkened. “Let me tell you something about Sam. Something I found out a few days ago—she knew Maureen Harper had kidnapped Jake. She watched her do it.”

“No, that’s—”

“And a few weeks ago, she hired men to threaten me and the boys in the park. Did you know that, Lucky? Did you know your precious Sam who makes you feel like a big man is nothing more than a scheming liar out for blood? You didn’t think it was strange that she picked you to be her bodyguard? The husband of the woman Jason slept with? I know you’re not that bright, Lucky, but come on. She reeled you in like a fish on a hook, and you let her.”

“You have no right to talk about her or me like that!”

God it felt so good to say all the things she’d only felt for the last six months—for a year. How she’d made herself into someone Elizabeth didn’t recognize—

“Here’s how this divorce is going to happen, Lucky,” Elizabeth said. “I am going to pack my boys up tonight, and we’re going to a hotel. And then I’m calling a lawyer to file for complete and sole custody. I don’t want a dime of child support from you. You’re getting out of my life, and this time, it’s for good.”

“You think you’re going take my boys from me? You got another thing coming—”

“I think I’m going to take my boys out of this house of lies and forget you ever existed. Cameron’s not your son. He wasn’t good enough for you to get sober for, and he wasn’t enough for you to keep your pants zipped with two different women, so you don’t get to use him now.”

“Jake is mine—”

Elizabeth stopped at the base of the stairs, quirked a brow. “Oh, really? Another thing Sam hasn’t told you. What a shocker. Why didn’t she help us when Jake was kidnapped? Why didn’t she tell anyone about Maureen? Because she knows the truth.”

Lucky stared at her. “Shut up. Don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear—”

“You should have heard it ten months ago. But I thought you were worth the lie. I thought I was responsible for fixing you, Lucky. So I lied to you, and I lied to the world, and I lied to Jason, who never deserved it. You aren’t Jake’s father.”

He took two steps towards her, his hand curling into a fist at his side. “You’re lying now. To hurt me.”

“Am I?” Elizabeth rested her hand on the banister. “Rewind the last year in your head, Lucky, and ask yourself if I’m lying.” Some of the anger had burned away. “I thought I’d feel guilty telling you the truth, that I’d feel awful for what I’d done to you, but all I feel is humiliated for ever thinking you were worth the effort. You’re not worth the breath I’m using to tell you the truth. But, hey, if you really think I’m lying. Go get a paternity test. Pick the doctor. Pick the lab. The truth is what it is.”

“How could you do this? How could you lie to me, to Jason—”

“I didn’t lie to Jason. He’s known for months.” Her voice faltered. “And I will never forgive myself for asking him to let it continue. To let you raise his son as if you were ever the better man. But that’s the only mistake I feel regret for. Any guilt I felt over you died the minute you walked in this door and told me you were having another affair.”

“I want you out of this house.”

“Finally. Something we agree on. I’ll be out in an hour. I’ll send Emily for the rest of my things. I hope you and Sam are happy until she gets bored with her revenge.”

Elizabeth climbed the rest of the stairs, heard the front door slam just as she reached the top, then took a deep breath. Her hands were trembling as she reached into her pocket for her cell phone.  She dialed a familiar number.

“Jason? Are you busy? I have something to tell you.”

+25

But I can see us lost in the memory
August slipped away into a moment in time
‘Cause it was never mine
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
‘Cause you were never mine

August 2006

Her smile was bright and wide when she saw him at the top of the stairs, and though he’d been on his way to the warehouse, Jason couldn’t stop himself. Drawn to that smile like a moth to a flame, he sat next to her.

“Hey,” he said, and her smile widened. Maybe she was remembering the last time they’d seen each other. When she’d left his penthouse after spending the night together.

“Hey,” Elizabeth echoed. “It’s been a few days.”

Too many, Jason thought, but he didn’t say that. “How are you?”

“Good. Good. I called Alexis. She filed for divorce.” The smile dimmed slightly, and those beautiful eyes looked out over the lake. “Lucky was in the apartment when I got home that morning. He said he wanted to get help for the pills.”

Jason squinted a little. “But that’s good, isn’t it?”

“For him. But I’ve known people with a drug addiction. You’ve known people mixed up with drugs. Do they all have affairs?” Elizabeth asked, and Jason sighed, looked away. “That’s what I thought. I know the drugs lowered his inhibitions, but that just means he wanted to sleep with her. I mean, we were drinking that night. Do we blame the alcohol?”

His head snapped up, and he scowled. “I wasn’t drunk.”

“Neither was I.” And now she was smiling again. She held a cup from Kelly’s in her hand, played with the top of the straw. “And I’m not sorry.”

“Me either.” He stretched his arm along the top of the bench. “Did he take the news okay?”

“He’s angry, but I just reminded him he was having an affair with his boss’s barely legal stepdaughter, so if he wanted to make problems, I’d make them right back.” Her lips curved into a smirk. “Do you know how good it felt to say that? Imagine, all these months, he’s been second-guessing me, accusing me of having an affair with Patrick, and he had the nerve to blame me.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, I heard him blaming me again for the pills, and I just—I stepped outside myself, and I looked at him, and I thought — is this who I want to be with? This…person…who always blames me when something goes wrong?” She shook her head.

It was refreshing to see her talking about Lucky Spencer this way, a jackass who’d never deserved half the love and affection she’d lavished on him over the years, Jason thought. But he knew not to trust it. Lucky would probably talk her around in a few months. He’d stay clean, and remind her of promises she’d made when she’d been young, and manipulate her back into his life. Just like he always did.

But he’d enjoy it while it lasted. “I’m sorry you’re going through that—”

“Are you?” Elizabeth slid a suspicious look from beneath her lashes. “You’re a better person than me. Nothing’s happening now that wasn’t a problem the last time I was with Lucky. I thought he’d changed. Grown up. But he’s got an inferiority complex that I can’t spend the rest of my life fixing. He’s going to have to figure out how to feel like a man without me patting his head.”

She sipped her drinking, wrapping her lips around the straw, and it made him think of other things— “What?” he asked, distracted when he heard his name, lifting his gaze from her mouth to her eyes which were sparkling, suggesting she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I was saying thank you. That night—if I hadn’t gone to you, if I’d just gone to my grandmother’s, I might have changed my mind. I might have let Lucky explain himself and use the pills to blame everything.”

“I didn’t do anything—”  Jason stopped when she just lifted her brows. “If you hadn’t come to me that night, I would have finished the tequila bottle and put my fist through the wall,” he admitted. “But instead….”

“Instead…” She lifted the straw to her lips again and he had to look away this time. “I was thinking that it felt out of time and place. You know, like we were in this little bubble that existed outside everything in our real lives. No cell phones to interrupt, no one living across the hall anymore.” She sighed. “Just you and me. I wish it had always been like that.”

“Me, too.”

“Why wasn’t it?” Elizabeth looked at him now, some of that sparkle and light fading. “Why did we wait so long to get it right? Why does our timing suck so bad?” she asked, echoing his words from that night.

Jason considered his answer carefully, because he wanted to get it right. And he wanted to understand it, just like she did. Why, if they’d had all that inside of them, why couldn’t they have had it years ago when they’d both been free?

“I think maybe we didn’t trust each other,” Jason said finally, and she bit her lip. “I didn’t trust you to stay, and you didn’t trust that I cared about you. And we had our reasons. I answered my phone too much.”

“And I thought I needed words more than actions.” Her eyes were sad now, and he didn’t like that at all. “I thought that if you didn’t say it, you didn’t feel it. So I ran towards anyone who would tell me. And it was always a mistake.”

“I know you said…” Jason hesitated, knowing he was putting himself in a position to be hurt, but if he didn’t ask, the answer would always be no. “You said that night it was the only night we could spend together. Why?”

Her lips parted, and she gripped the fabric of her skirt tightly. “Because I wanted to say it before you did.”

His voice dropped. “Why did you think I’d say it?”

Their eyes met. “Because you always said it before. You kissed me at Vista Point and walked away. And you told me you wanted to try, and you left me alone. You always left first.”

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Jason told her, and she took a deep breath. “And I don’t want you to say it, either.”

“Jason.”

“It would always be like that. Us. You know that. I didn’t want you to go home. That night. That morning.”

“I didn’t want to go—” Her breath caught, tears clinging her lashes. “What are you saying, Jason?”

“I’m saying what I should have four years ago. We stood in our own way then. Are we going to make the same mistakes again?” Jason reached for her hand, laced their fingers together the way she’d done that night. “Or do you want to find out what happens next?”

“I want—” Her smile returned, tremulous and hopeful, and he knew his own mirrored it. “I want to get it right this time. Just you and me. The way it always should have been.”

+24

July 2004

It was a sweltering summer day, with the sun high in the sky, burning down on everything its rays touched. But in the middle of Port Charles park, underneath the canopy of trees, it was just a little bit cooler.

Not that Jason ever noticed — he didn’t feel temperature the way everyone did. He could still freeze to death, still pass out from heatstroke — but he wouldn’t know he was in danger until it was too late.

So he didn’t notice the heat or think much of it as he crossed through the park, taking the short cut from downtown Port Charles towards the waterfront. The northern edge of the park was just a few blocks from Courtland Street, and he had a bookie to track down.

He followed the path as it wound through the heart of the park, then dipped into one of the clearings with a stone fountain and circle of benches in matching material, then he stopped because a familiar figure was sitting on the edge of the fountain, holding an infant in one arm, the other hand gliding across the surface of the water, then flicking a few drops in the baby’s face. There was a gurgle, almost a laugh.

She smiled at her son, then that smile widened when she saw him at the edge of the clearing. “Jason!”

“You’re back.” Jason cleared his throat, closed the distance between them, and sat a few feet away from her on the fountain ledge. The bookie completely forgotten. “Emily didn’t say anything—”

“I got home a few weeks ago. I, um—” Elizabeth settled the baby on her lap, wrapping her arms around his pudgy middle. “I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t want to…intrude.” The smile faded slightly. “I didn’t feel right saying anything.”

He hadn’t seen her there. Hadn’t even known to look for her. They’d been in the same church, same cemetery, and he hadn’t known? “You could have. You wouldn’t have intruded. We’re friends.”

“Friends,” Elizabeth repeated. “Who don’t talk.”

“We—” And he realized, no, they didn’t. Outside a handful of conversations after Emily’s cancer battle the year before, the brief interactions that spring after her marriage had deteriorated, they hadn’t been friends in nearly two years. “We’re always friends,” Jason said firmly.

“All right. Then—” Elizabeth slid closer to him. “This is Cameron. Cam, this is Mommy’s friend, Jason.” She flashed another smile at him. “You’re having a baby, Emily said. I’m so happy for you. You’re such a great father—”

“I’m—” Jason grimaced, looked away. “No, I’m not.”

Her brows drew together quizzically. “What? You were so good with Michael. Don’t worry about being out of practice or whatever. I mean, I’ve only been a mother for a few months, but I think about what you used to say about babies being aware—”

“I’m not having a baby.”

The words hung between them for a long moment, and she exhaled slowly. Looked at the water pooling behind them. “Emily wondered, but she didn’t know how to ask you. Didn’t know if you’d tell her the truth.” A corner of her mouth twitched.  “She didn’t want you to lie to her.”

“I—”

“I told her not to be silly. Jason doesn’t lie.” Her eyes found him. “After all you never told me Sonny was dead. You avoided being alone with me so you didn’t have to lie to me.”

Jason dipped his head, stared hard at the ground. “You didn’t think that then. You were angry.”

“Not because you lied. Because you didn’t trust me. But you’re lying now. Because of Sonny and Carly, right?”

“The boys—” Jason exhaled slowly. “The boys deserve their family together. Sonny and Carly will drag them into court—”

“And living with their miserable parents screaming at each other is better? I grew up in a house without love. Children can feel that, too. You think Michael is better off this way?”

“I don’t—” Jason straightened. “No. But I promised Sam—”

Elizabeth sighed, smoothed her hands over Cameron’s soft dark hair, and he knew he’d disappointed her again, but what did she want from him? “Okay, you promised Sam you’d lie to the whole world for her. Just like you promised Carly.”

At that, Jason looked at her sharply. “What?”

“You promised Carly you’d claim Michael. Even though it meant that you’d slept with Carly while you were with Robin. And you got to be a father for a little while, but that didn’t last, did it?” Elizabeth tugged the stroller closer with her toe, leaned down to strap Cameron into it.

“It’s—it’s not the same—”

“No, because at least Carly makes sense. You were friends, weren’t you? But this Sam woman—” Elizabeth shrugged. “But you’re your own person, Jason. You make your choices. I just can’t believe after everything you went through with Michael, you’d put yourself in the same position.” She stood up, went to the handles of the stroller, her smile was sad. “But then again, maybe it shouldn’t surprise me. You’re doing it for Sonny.”

“I’m doing it for Michael—” Jason stood, his voice tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t I?” Elizabeth sighed, looked away for a long moment. “I guess I don’t. After all, it’s not like we’re friends, right? It’s not like I haven’t watched you go through this before. It’s not like I wasn’t the one you confided in the last time you claimed a child that wasn’t yours for a woman who can’t be trusted to tell the same story twice.” Her eyes were sad. “It’s not like I wasn’t someone you lied to because Sonny told you to. What do I know?”

“I—”

“I won’t say anything. Thank you for not lying to me. But like I said, we’re not friends anymore.”

Jason covered the top of her hand, resting on the handle of the stroller. “It wasn’t about trust. With Sonny—”

Her eyes searched his, then she smiled again. “It doesn’t matter. A long time ago, maybe. I made mistakes. I walked out when I should have stayed. I thought about going to see you, but then you married Brenda. Why did you do that again?” she asked, and he looked away. “To keep her out of Sonny and Carly’s hair, right?”

“Elizabeth—”

“It’s like I said that night. It’s Sonny for you. First, last…always.”

+28

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting
I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back
I have a lot of regrets about that
Pulled the car off the road to the lookout
Could’ve followed my fears all the way down
And maybe I don’t quite know what to say
But I’m here in your doorway

April 2001

He hadn’t brought much with him to Port Charles — everything he owned fit into one duffel bag. He’d never really accumulated a lot of things — almost everything could be bought if you needed it, so it never bothered him to leave behind clothes or books.

Clearing out the drawers at Jake’s wouldn’t take long, Jason thought, maybe five-ten minutes, and that was only because he wanted to save Jake the trouble of cleaning the room. And he needed to go now—

There was a knock at his door, and Jason muttered something under his breath. He hoped it wasn’t something he had to handle. The leads on the bomb sent to Sonny at the party would go  cold fast—

He yanked open the door, then grimaced. “I don’t have time for this,” Jason snapped, and the harsh tone—one he’d never used with her — had Elizabeth stepping back, her eyes widened. He winced, then took a deep breath. “I don’t have time,” he repeated. Not to hear her say whatever it was she was going to say. Especially if she said Lucky’s name one more time—he might actually put his fist through a wall.

“Oh. Oh. I understand. Um—” She looked past him, and he followed her gaze to the duffle on the bed. “You’re leaving.”

And because that was true, because he was going to cut himself loose from whatever insanity they’d been living for the last two months, Jason stepped back, holding the door open. “You have the five minutes it’ll take for me to pack to say whatever you came to say.”

“I—”

Jason opened a drawer, but in his frustration, yanked it too hard and it fell, spilling the small collection of shirts and jeans to the floor. Elizabeth stooped to help him, but he held out his hand.

“What did you want?” Jason repeated. With both hands, he gathered it all, then dumped it into the bag. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.” Her lower lip trembled slightly, but she sucked it in, biting down hard. “I got halfway home, and I realized how badly I handled all of this, and I needed to say I was sorry—” the words were tumbling out faster than he could almost follow, “—and that you deserved so much better than the way I’ve treated you. It’s just that I was really confused and it’s not exactly easy—I mean, I had—neither of you have ever lied to me before and it was all so insane, you know? A knife—how could—” Her eyes were shimmering with tears. “It was just too much, and I think my brain shut down. I’m sorry.”

Jason exhaled slowly, some of his irritation fading. “I’m not doing this anymore,” he said, carefully. “I know I said I’d always be there, and I will, but right now, I can’t. I can’t—” He looked at her, at her beautiful eyes, hating that he was part of the reason she was so upset. “I can’t until I can figure out how to just be your friend. ”

He cleared his last drawer, with the socks and briefs. Elizabeth looked away, her cheeks pinking up.

“Um, but that’s why I came. Because I was wrong. I mean I was right, but I was wrong.” She made a face. “This isn’t coming out right, and I had it in my head, and it made sense in there. But now I’m trying to produce words, and I’m down to my last two minutes, and you’re angry. You should be angry. I was horrible to you. I-I sent you mixed signals, and that’s not fair—”

“Elizabeth—”

“—and maybe I was a little mad, too, because I never thought I’d be that stupid girl who was all about her boyfriend, but that’s exactly what I did. I-I threw away all my dreams for Lucky, for this modeling thing, and he’s running around, lying about you, attacking you—” Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. “And I picked him, so clearly I’m not the brightest, so I don’t even know what you’d want with me in the first place, but that’s not my point.”

Jason stared at her, bewildered. “You have a point?”

“Y-Yes.” She licked her lips. “I’m looking for it. I’ll find it if you can give me an extra minute. I just got distracted because you were so angry, and you should be, but I wasn’t expecting it which just tells you I’m as selfish as everyone says I am, because it’s all been about me, and that’s—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath. “You’re leaving right now, you said.”

“Yes. Or after that extra minute.”

“Okay. Okay. Well, then I’m coming with you.”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d heard that wrong. That wasn’t at all what she’d— “What?”

“I mean, unless you changed your mind.” Her cheeks were cherry red, her eyes bright with embarrassment. “You changed your mind. Oh, of course. Right. This is really awkward—”

“Just—wait.” Jason took a minute to collect himself. I’m coming with you. “You came here to say you were sorry and that you’re coming with me.”

“Which is so arrogant of me,” Elizabeth muttered. “To think I could say no, and that you wouldn’t have come to your senses. This is why my mother always told me to think before I leap, but I told you, I got halfway home, and nearly crashed into the back of a bus because it just slammed in my head how stupid I was, and so I went to Lucky so I could tell him, and that took longer than I wanted because he was really annoying—”

“You told Lucky,” Jason repeated, mystified.

“And I’m never going to be able to go back to Kelly’s after this because he’s going to know you changed your mind, and I’ll be the dumb girl who threw away Jason Morgan and forgot to check if the offer was still good before breaking up with her boyfriend over it—oof—” Elizabeth’s ramble came to an abrupt stop when Jason backed her up against the door and kissed her.

He didn’t mean to do it, but she’d kept talking, and he’d always thought about cutting off one of her rambles with a kiss, wondering if she’d pick up where she left off when he let her go—

And she’d already told Lucky.

Elizabeth’s hands slid up his chest, curling into his t-shirt to drag him closer. Panting when he finally released her, she looked at him with a dazed expression. “You kissed me.”

Instead of answering, he kissed her again, slower, and she melted against him, making him rethink the hasty exit because there was a bed behind them—No.

Jason pulled back. “I need to go,” he told her.

“I know. That’s why I came here. So I can go with you.”

Jason leaned his forehead against hers. He couldn’t take her with him right now. Could he? But what if he left her here and Lucky guilted her into changing her mind?  “If I take you,” Jason said slowly, and her eyes lit up, “If I take you, you have to do what I say and stay where I put you. At first. I have to do something for Sonny. It’ll take a week. Maybe more. And you can’t go if you won’t do what I tell you.”

“You can trust me,” Elizabeth said. “I mean, maybe my credibility is a little shot after the last few weeks, but that was personal and I fixed that. Mostly. I think I did. You kissed me and you’re talking about taking me with you, so it sounds like I did —”

“You fixed it,” Jason confirmed, and was rewarded with a grin — one of her smiles that lit up her whole face. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled like that. “And I know I can trust you.”

“Okay. So finish packing, and we’ll go. I’ll leave a message for my grandmother.” Elizabeth pushed away from the door.

“Don’t you want to pack anything?” Jason asked, zipping the duffle.

She opened the door, and leaned into the hallway, retrieving a backpack stuffed to the brim. “I figured I’d leave it out here so if you said no, the humiliation wouldn’t be complete.”

She’d already packed. She’d broken up with Lucky before she’d arrived. “Are you sure about this?”

“Mostly. I know I need a change,” Elizabeth said, her smile fading slightly. “And if I stay here, I’ll just slide right back into the same old things. And I’ll be miserable in a few months. Maybe you’ll get annoyed with me after a few weeks—”

“Not possible,” he said, with a quick shake of his head. He lifted his bag, looped it over his shoulder, then reached for her bag. “But any time you change your mind, I’ll make sure you get back.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

+22

And you wanna scream
Don’t call me “kid”
Don’t call me “baby”
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors
You know I can’t see with anyone else

February 2001

The alley was bitterly cold, their breaths little puffs of air, and yet, all she could feel inside of herself was more ice. It seeped in from the pores of her skin, down into the marrow of her bones, until she was frozen inside and out.

They stood on either side of his bike, but it might as well have been the Grand Canyon. She’d done the hard part — she’d told him that they couldn’t see each other anymore. And yet, here they stood, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, and somehow this felt like the worst part.

She’d told him her decision, and now she had to go inside and make it real.

She licked her lips. “Thank you for the ride,” Elizabeth said softly.

He looked at her then, his beautiful blue eyes unreadable. Her heart was pounding so fast and loud she could hear it in her ears. “Sure,” Jason replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The exchange finally dislodged her feet and she started past him, towards the back door of Kelly’s. But his hand snagged her elbow, and she turned slightly, looked at him. Their eyes met and now she couldn’t look away.

“The statue of the girl,” Elizabeth found herself saying, “was she wearing a long dress or a short dress?”

Jason’s eyes squinted slightly at the inane question, but maybe he understood why she was asking it. Because she needed something—anything—to prolong this moment. “Long,” he said.

“Is she smiling?” Because Elizabeth couldn’t imagine herself ever smiling again, and why did it hurt so badly to walk away from Jason? They were friends, in and out of each other’s lives—why did it feel like she was slicing off a piece of her soul—

Jason looked away. “I don’t know. Why don’t you hike up and see it? Maybe you can go with Lucky.”

Her lungs seized and tears stung. “No—” God no. She’d never take Lucky somewhere Jason had shown her—could never see him there— “I hate this.” The truth slid from her lips before she could stop them.

He looked back at her, his gaze focused, sharp. “Then why are you doing it?”

An excellent question. She reached for the answer she’d given him earlier, but somehow because her boyfriend didn’t like them being friends didn’t answer the question anymore.

Why did Lucky hate Elizabeth having a male friend? He was fine with Nikolas. Because he sees what you won’t say out loud.

She licked her lips. “Because Lucky—because he doesn’t trust me.” She swallowed hard. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“And he’s right.”  Admitting that, God, it was so freeing. The weight lifted from her shoulders, even as the first tear escaped, frozen to her cheek within seconds. “He’s right. Because the idea of never seeing you again, it hurts too much, and it shouldn’t. You’re not supposed to matter this way.”

“Don’t—don’t cry—” Jason stepped towards her, their bodies nearly brushing against each other. “It kills me—” He raised his hand to her cheek, his thumb caressing the trail left by the tears.

She was never quite sure who made the first move, but later, she thought it might have been her. She lifted her chin, leaned in, but he was already tilting his head, and then his mouth was closing over hers. His hand, still on her cheek, slid around to the back of her neck, drawing her in closer. The ice in her veins burned away, leaving nothing but heat and urgency because now that she’d given in to what she’d wanted to do for weeks—

There was a slamming of a door.  Jason broke away, and Elizabeth spun around, her eyes wide. The back door to Kelly’s had opened, then slammed shut. Someone had come out, seen them, then run back inside.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, then looked back at Jason, her pulse racing. Oh, God. She’d done the unthinkable, what she’d only dreamt about—

She touched her lips with the tips of her trembling fingers. “Oh, that was a bad idea,” she breathed.

“Elizabeth—”

“I—I shouldn’t have d-done that—”

“We did that,” Jason said, almost roughly. “You know there’s something between us— it’s why Lucky wanted you to stay away from me.” His blue eyes were hot and impatient. “Are you going to give him what he wants?”

“I—” She swallowed hard. “I should. That’s—that’s what I should want to do, right? Because I promised him, but—” Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “But it’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?” he murmured, caressing her cheek again. She leaned into it, closing her eyes. What would those hands feel like all over—

Her eyes snapped open and she spoke the first words that leapt to mind. “I want to get on your bike and never look back.”

He went to the bike, retrieved the helmet. “Then, let’s go.”

Was it really that easy? Elizabeth wondered. To throw away everything for— She looked at Jason. What was she really throwing away? Maybe it was time to run towards something and not away.

She took the helmet.

+21

Sweet tea in the summer
Cross my heart, won’t tell no other
And though I can’t recall your face
I still got love for you
Pack your dolls and a sweater
We’ll move to India forever
Passed down like folk songs
Our love lasts so long

July 1987

Steven Lars Webber was mortified to the bone, his cheeks flaming red, his brow scrunched up, fists clenched at his side. “You’re a no good liar, Lizzie,” he bit out with every ounce of rage the twelve-year-old could summon. “And Gram’s going to be so mad you followed me!”

All he’d wanted to do was play with his summer best friend, running through the patch of woods, pretending to be Rambo, running from the bad guys. But then there’d been a sharp cry, a crack of wood, and now here he stood, in the middle of a clearing, with his youngest sister a crumbled, sobbing mess, and embarrassing him in front of his friend.

He jabbed a finger at her. “And stop crying! That doesn’t work on me!”

His baby sister inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together, holding back the choked sobs because she idolized her brother and he wanted her to stop crying, and maybe if she did, he wouldn’t tell their mother, but oh, it hurt so bad—

“S-sorry, I just—” The words were stuttered out between huge gulps of air as the six-year-old sat crumbled on the ground, her knee bleeding.  Her hands were scraped, dirt packed underneath her fingernails. Her brown hair had begun the day tied back into twin braids dangling down her back, but one of the bands had fallen out. Half her hair was tangled, and the other braid wasn’t in much better condition, curly tendrils poking out.

Steven sighed, looked at the boy next to him with derision. “You’re so lucky you don’t have sisters, man. They’re the worst.”

“You’re lucky you’re the oldest,” the boy said, but he knelt down in front of the crying girl. “Lizzie, right?”

Elizabeth nodded, then swiped her arm across her face to wipe away her tears. “T-That’s w-what they c-call me but I don’t like it—”

“Oh, cripes, Lizzie, this isn’t the time—” Steven rolled his eyes. “No one cares—”

She dipped her head, the sobs she tried to hold in trembling her tiny frame.

“Dude, chill out. You keep making her cry,” his friend said, whacking him in the leg. “Go find  my brother. Tell him to get the first aid kit. And water.”

“What if he tells on us?” Steven demanded.

“He won’t. AJ’s my brother,” the boy told Elizabeth. “My older brother. He won’t say anything if I tell him not to.”

“Sisters,” Steven said, but jogged off back towards the house.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I ruined your fun.”

The boy shrugged and grinned. “Blood is cool, and I’m going to be a doctor, so I can fix this.” He looked at her knee, made a face. “It’s not that bad. This is your first summer with your grandparents, right?”

“Y-Yes. I’m old enough, Mom said.” She sniffled again. “Because she and Dad have more important things to do so I can be a pain to my grandparents for a change.”

“I’m Jason.” He stuck out his hand and she frowned at it, confused. “You shake it,” he added, with a grin that wasn’t mean or snide. Not like Steven and Sarah.

“I know.” Her lips pressed together in a mutinous line. “I’m not a baby.” She shook it. “I’m Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth,” Jason repeated. “Do you like Port Charles?”

“I like my Grampy,” she said in a small voice. “He’s nice. But—” she shrugged. “Steven and Sarah don’t like me. I’m only one year younger than Sarah, but they act like I’m a baby.”

“I wish I had a little sister,” Jason said, but she didn’t believe him. He was nice enough to lie.

“I wish I was the oldest,” she muttered. “Being the youngest sucks. No one lets me do anything.”

Steven ran back into the clearing, then dumped the water bottle and first aid at Jason’s feet, before dropping to the ground, sitting cross-legged. “AJ said you owe him.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Jason twisted the cap from the water, then poured it over Elizabeth’s knee. She hissed when it stung, tears welling up again.

“Oh, you’re going to cry again.” Steven sighed as if weighed down by the burden of her. “You always ruin everything, Lizzie. If you weren’t such a pain, maybe Mom and Dad wouldn’t have made you come with us this year. But they don’t want you either.”

Her lip trembled and she lowered her head, tucking her chin against her chest. The truth stung more than the water against her banged up knee.

“You’re such a dick,” Jason said, flatly, all the friendliness gone from his tone. Steven frowned at him, and Elizabeth’s head snapped back up, her blue eyes wide at the bad word. She’d only ever heard her dad say that word, when he’d talked about someone at work.

“Dude,” Steven said, offended. “What did I do?”

“She’s your little sister, man. She’s hurt.” Jason unwrapped a bandage and pressed it against the wound. “You’re supposed to take care of her.”

“Oh, you know so much,” Steven retorted. “You don’t have a sister—”

“So?” Jason challenged. “I know a dick when I see one.”

Steven scowled, scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, well, you’re—you’re an asshole!”

Oh, no. She’d ruined everything — now Steven was fighting with his best friend and he’d be so mad at her.

“Don’t fight.” Elizabeth climbed to her feet. “Don’t fight. I’m going. I’m sorry. I’ll go and I’ll never follow you again. It was my fault.” She sniffled, wiped her dirty hands against her denim pants. “I’m sorry. Don’t fight. I just wanted to play. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jason assured her, then he looked at her brother. “Did she?”

Steven clearly wanted to disagree, but he made a face, looked at Elizabeth. “No,” he muttered. “It’s fine, Lizzie. I just don’t want to get in trouble for you getting hurt. Gram will be mad. You look like you lost a fight.”

“I’ll go home and sneak in the back way,” Elizabeth promised. “A-and I’ll clean up. No one ever has to know.”

“IF you tell—” Steven threatened.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” Elizabeth said solemnly, crossing her chest. “I promise.” She looked at Jason, smiling shyly. “Thank you for helping me. Bye!”

And then she bolted, running towards the edge of the woods, and was gone after another minute.

“Sisters,” Steven muttered, but his ire had faded. He looked back at Jason, calmly cleaning up his first aid kit, not leaving any trash behind. “You’re still an asshole,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. “But you don’t got sisters, so you don’t know how they are. Everything is always your fault because you’re supposed to know when they’re being dumb and stop them. It’s annoying.”

“And you’re still a dick who made her cry,” Jason said, getting to his feet. “Some brother.”

“Oh, whatever. I hope you get a sister one day, and you see how much they ruin everything.” Furious, Steven stomped in the same direction his sister had gone.

Steven and his sisters went back to Colorado a month later, and when they came back the next summer, Steven didn’t tell Jason he was coming. And they never hung out again. Which was awful because Jason was rich and had a pool and tennis courts and woods and so many cool things to play with. But Steven had his pride. And he never forgave his stupid sister for ruining his friendship with the wealthier boy.

But Elizabeth went home that day, snuck into her grandparents’ house, and managed to clean herself up. No one ever found out she’d left. She went into her room—it was so nice in Port Charles, she didn’t have to share with her stupid sister—and she found a notepad from her grandfather’s office.

She doodled Jason’s name in hearts on most of the pages, practiced writing her name as Mrs. Jason Quartermaine, and Elizabeth Quartermaine.  But then she got so embarrassed, she tore all the pages to shreds and dumped them in the trash, shoving them all to the bottom.

By the time she moved to Port Charles with her sister, and befriended Emily Quartermaine, she’d forgotten most of that day in the woods. She’d only been six that day, of course, and sometimes you forgot your first crush.

Jason never gave much thought to Steven Webber or his little sister after that summer. His parents were divorcing again, and they were sending him to boarding school, along with his older brother. And then, of course, there was the accident that made him into Jason Morgan, so he never gave any thought to the girl his sister was friends with.

But then one day in August, he went to the boxcar to let Lucky Spencer to let him know he was out of a job unless he wanted to work at the garage Jason was opening. And Lucky introduced him to his girlfriend, Elizabeth Webber with big blue eyes and hair that curled at the ends.

She’d been so nervous meeting him, and her cheeks had flushed when she’d asked about whether Lucky was safe with Jason changing jobs. He’d smiled at her, with reassurance, and she’d smiled back, and it was the strangest feeling for both of them—

Had they met before?

+19

I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace
‘Cause when I’d fight, you used to tell me I was brave
And if I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?
Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
Look at how my tears ricochet

January 2003

At least they hadn’t been in bed.

It was the only consolation, she told herself, though of course now that she’d thought it — the image was in her head, so it no longer brought any comfort.

None of it did.

Elizabeth flipped the chair, rested it on the table, gripping the legs tightly. Such a moron. Such a stupid, stupid little girl. Mistake after mistake after mistake — just how much grace was Jason supposed to give her?

Hadn’t he tried to talk to her after she’d walked out of the penthouse? Hadn’t he forgiven her after every terrible, awful thing she’d done last summer? Hadn’t he forgiven her for everything she’d put him through with Lucky—

The one time—the one time—she’d been in a position to show him a single ounce of understanding and empathy, she’d failed. She’d had perfection on a silver platter and thrown it in his face.

Her body began to tremble first, a slithering of rage and fury and shame spiraling up from her toes, skin tingling—

And with a broken sob, Elizabeth hurled the chair still in her hands towards the door, shattering the glass, jagged shards falling to the ground, glittering like broken diamonds on the tiled floor.

She stared blindly at it for a long moment, then raised her eyes to the broken glass, slowly walking towards it. There was a long piece still stuck in one of the panes. Elizabeth gripped it in both of her fingers, tugged it out.

“Well, that didn’t solve anything,” she muttered, sighing and dropping it to the ground. The anger had burned itself out, and all that was left was numbness. Nothing. Nothing, that’s all that was left.

And now she’d have a broken door to deal with, so that wasn’t great. Maybe Bobbie and Mike would understand she’d gone a little crazy.

She went to the kitchen to retrieve a broom and dustbin, and when she came back, she saw a familiar figure in the courtyard scrutinizing the door, a cell phone in his hand.

Well, at least he wasn’t in bed with that blonde bitch right now, Elizabeth’s traitorous mind thought.

Shut up.

“Elizabeth?” Jason’s voice carried through the locked door. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She twisted the bolt, then pulled it open. “Um, there was just—there was an accident.”

Jason stepped over the threshold, glanced down at the chair next to the door, then lifted his eyes to hers. “An accident,” he repeated.

“Yeah.” She stepped back, biting her lip. “I accidentally let go of the chair when I was still holding it.” She carefully swept up the shards of glass. “I need to go find cardboard and call Mike.”

“You’re all alone here?” Jason frowned, looked around the diner. “Where’s the rest of the staff?”

“Gone. I took my time cleaning up. It’s really fine. I—” Elizabeth drew her brows together, looked at him oddly. “What are you doing here? We’ve been closed for a half hour.”

“I was passing by. I heard the glass.” Jason shoved his hands in his pocket. “Do I get to ask why you threw a chair at the door?”

“No,” Elizabeth said shortly. She went into the kitchen, dumped the trash, then found a piece of cardboard and some tape. She’d hoped Jason would take the hint, but he was still in the diner, his phone at his ear.

“Yeah, I’ll hang out until you get here. Thanks.” Jason slid the phone back in his pocket. “I have a guy coming to handle that.”

“I didn’t ask you do anything. I can call Mike. He can take it out of my paycheck.” She gestured at the door. “So you can go back to whatever you were doing.” Or whoever, she thought bitterly.

Jason’s mouth tightened. “So we’re back to this?”

“Back to what?” she asked dully, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about. Elizabeth returned to the counter, pretending to look through receipts. Now that he’d arranged to have the door fixed, there was no chance he’d leave.

Why had he shown up tonight of all nights? Was it the universe making her pay for a lifetime of sins?

“It’s been months—”

“You want to know why I threw the chair?” Elizabeth snapped, jerking her head up. “Because I tried to do someone a favor today, and instead I got slapped in the face. Metaphorically speaking. And I have no one to blame but myself for being a stupid little girl who can’t do anything right. I didn’t ask you to fix the damn door, Jason. I made this problem, I’ll handle it.”

Jason exhaled slowly, nodded. “I’ll have him send you a bill then. But I’m not leaving the door broken overnight when I can handle it. Bobbie and Mike have always been good to me. I’d do it for any waitress who worked here.”

Any waitress. Because that’s all that she was now. Just another waitress. Her throat tightened, her eyes stung. No one’s fault but her own. She’d made it this way. He was being nice, and she was being an ungrateful bitch.

God, he was so lucky to be done with her.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said after a moment. “I’m not in a good mood. It’s not fair to take it out on you. Especially since you didn’t do a-anything to deserve it.” Her lip trembled, and she had to look down, staring hard at her bundled receipts.

“I don’t want you to be sorry—” His voice was closer now, and the pressure was building behind her eyes—he needed to go, she had to make him go.

Elizabeth raised her head, a pithy, smart remark about Courtney on her lips, but it died when she saw him looking at her the way he always had. And she simply had no defense for that. The first tear slid down her cheek. “Well, too bad. Because sorry is all I have to offer.” Her voice broke. “Because I am, you know. Sorry.”

His hands gripped the edge of the counter, and something in his eyes changed, a twitch in his cheek. “Elizabeth.”

“It’s too late for that, I know. I’m really good at knowing when I was wrong about three months too late. That’s how long it took last year.” She brushed at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “After the park. Three months. And it’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I know. Because I know.” She met his eyes, even as her voice faltered. “I know it’s too late, and it’s okay. It really is.” She wanted it to be okay. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

He swallowed hard, opened his mouth, but then closed it. “I’m on trial for murder in a few weeks,” he offered, and she let out a choked sob mixed with a giggle.

“Oh, well, yeah, I didn’t think about that. Fair enough.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s all I want, you know. You deserve that. To be happy with…someone who deserves you.” Her smile was wobbly. “Finally, right?”

Jason grimaced, started around the counter. “How did you—”

“I found out on my own,” she added. “I know—I know you can’t—that no one can know. Because of the trial. And Brenda. I won’t say anything. I’m not saying anything now.”

“There’s—I mean, there’s something to know,” Jason admitted. “But it’s not what you think—” He grimaced, looked away. “I didn’t think you’d find out.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What?”

“Listen—”

There was a knock at the door, and they both turned to find one of Jason’s men there—she recognized him from the warehouse. And there was someone with him. “That must be your repair guy.” She cleared her throat, took a step back. “Thanks, I mean. Now that he’s here, you can go, right?”

“Hey. Can we talk about this—” Jason snagged her arm as she passed him, and she looked back at him. “We can talk, can’t we?”

“What’s left to talk about?” she asked. “I told you, I’m happy for you.”

“Then why are you crying and throwing chairs at doors?” he asked, his voice a bit rougher. He stepped closer and she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes. “We’ll talk. The door will get fixed. And I-I can walk you home.”

“I don’t know—” She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she managed. “For either of us. Or for the people outside that door.”

“I don’t care about them—”

“That’s not true,” she said gently, and he sighed. “Jason—”

The knock came again, and this time he released her, but his longer legs carried him more quickly to the door. “Hey, sorry. Paulie, you can stay while he fixes it, can’t you?” he asked.

The guard raised his brows. “Uh, okay. Sure.”

“Good. Lock up when you’re done.” He looked back to Elizabeth. “Go get your things. I’ll take you home.”

She nearly argued with him, but it felt different with the strangers in the diner. If they worked with Jason, then Mike wouldn’t mind if she left them here to lock up.

Silently, she went into the kitchen, found her jacket and bag, then followed Jason into the courtyard. “Jason, this really isn’t necessary. And it’s in public—”

“I’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Jason said.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but when they’re putting you in the electric chair, don’t blame me,” she muttered, stalking towards the street.

“New York hasn’t executed anyone since 1963,” he said dryly, falling into step next to her.

“Trust you to know that.”

They reached her building quickly, and Elizabeth reluctantly climbed the stairs to her studio, hearing his boots echoing in the stairwell behind her. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the deadbolt and the two other locks he’d had installed after her kidnapping.

“Well, I’m here,” she said, almost lamely. She stripped off her coat. The moment had passed, she thought. He’d realize it, say his goodbyes, and they’d go back to the way things had been.

Jason closed the door, took a deep breath. “Zander.”  He looked at her. “I could never understand what you were doing with him.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” she muttered, folding her arms, and glaring at the floor. “Is there a reason you’re bringing up one of my worst mistakes? Because you could have left me at the diner—”

“I understand it now.”

She closed her mouth, stared at him. “What?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable, and looked away. “I wanted you to look at me. To…just give me a minute to explain things. After that night at the penthouse,” he added. Her cheeks flooded with shame. “And you didn’t. And it wasn’t exactly fun to carry that around. I knew I’d hurt you. I knew—” Jason grimaced, shook his head. “And maybe I deserved a little of that—I know I lied—but it was just too hard. And it hurt too much to keep trying. Not that I was trying very hard,” he admitted.

“It was more than I did,” Elizabeth said softly, and he offered a half smile.

“Maybe. It hurt too much,” he repeated. “And it was easier…with someone else. Someone without all that history.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Right. I get that. You really didn’t need to come all the way over here to tell me Courtney makes you happier than me—” She stalked past him, started to twist the deadbolt.

“I never said that.”

Her fingers stilled on the bolt, and she glanced at him over her shoulder suspiciously. “Then—”

“Were you happier with Zander?” he added, and she sighed, looked back at the door, staring at it hard. “But it was easier with him, wasn’t it?”

“Well, he didn’t answer his phone and run off to Carly every five minutes,” she bit out, then exhaled slowly as the shame spiraled through her. “I didn’t have to wonder how he felt about me. If it was real. Or in my head. If maybe I was just seeing things that weren’t there.” Tears clung to her lashes again. “So, yeah, it was easier with him. But it didn’t matter. Because he wasn’t you.”

Jason gently took her by the elbow, and she turned so that they faced each other again. “It’s easier with her,” he said, and Elizabeth sucked in a harsh breath. “But it’s not better. She’s not you.”

“Oh, God—” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m dreaming. I’m hallucinating. I fell into the harbor or something—and now I’m dead—”

“Hey.” His voice was soft, his touch gentle as he covered her hands and pulled them away, holding onto them, lacing their fingers together. “I’m right here, Elizabeth. And I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”

“How can you even look at me after everything I’ve done to hurt you?” she managed. “Jason—”

“Because it’s you. And I get to decide who I look at.” He released her hand to curl a finger beneath her chin, lifting it slightly. “So do you want me to leave?”

“No.” The word was nearly inaudible as it escaped her lips, but he heard it and smiled, and then her lips twitched. “But you should probably go. Your wife is at home, isn’t she? And there’s that murder trial—how would it look if someone told Scott Baldwin you were seen leaving my studio?”

“Then I guess I have to make sure I’m not seen.” Jason was grinning even as he lowered his head to kiss her smiling mouth, knocking the smirk right off her face.

+24