Written in 61 minutes.

---

As soon as the judge had cleared the room, Elizabeth leapt to her feet, nearly tripping over Justus and Jason in her haste to the other side of the aisle.

“What did you mean?” she demanded. “What does that mean about Jason wanting a divorce?”

“Ma’am, I really think you should let your attorney handle everything—” Barber said, looking down his long thin nose at her. “This isn’t proper—”

“No! No! Tell me what that means!” Elizabeth cut in.

“Elizabeth, hey, don’t let them rile you up—” Justus put a hand on her shoulder, and Jason stood just behind him, his brow creased in confusion.

“It means exactly what we said, young lady,” Edward said, pushing past his attorney. “So sign the papers and walk away. My grandson wanted you out of his life—”

“Father—” Alan touched his arm. “This really isn’t necessary, and that—”

“No, he didn’t. He never said—” She shook her head. “No. It’s a lie. It’s all a lie.” She looked to Jason. “It’s a lie—”

“He can’t tell you anything—he doesn’t remember, and you’re taking advantage of him, just like you always did!” Edward cut in sharply. He wagged a finger at her. “Using his injuries against him, pulling him into all of this—your grandfather would be ashamed—”

“Watch it, old man—” Jason swept Elizabeth behind him and Edward took a step back, closing his mouth. “You’re not going to talk to her like that. Answer the damn question or don’t, but you’re not going to insult her one more time.”

Edward pressed his lips together. “I have nothing to say.” He stalked out of the courtroom, followed by his attorney.

Alan, however, hovered by the front of the courtroom. “I’m sorry it’s come out like this. All of it,” he added. “I wanted you to know when you were living with us—about the conservatorship, about—” He flicked his eyes to Elizabeth. “About all of it. But we worried you weren’t ready—”

“How do you get ready to find out you have no legal freedom, Alan?” Justus asked. “And thank you, by the way, for confirming that Jason never knew any of this. There never was any lawyer assigned to him, was there?”

“Father handled all of it. I couldn’t say—” He looked at Elizabeth again. “We’ve handled things so…poorly. From top to bottom. But we’re not lying, Elizabeth.”

“It has to be—” Elizabeth raised her gaze to him, her eyes burning. “Jason would have said something. He wouldn’t—he loved me.”

“I never spoke to him,” Alan said, surprising Jason when his tone was gentle. “Monica did. The day of the accident. He came to tell her what he’d decided. AJ came in. There was some arguing about his drinking, and Jason went after him. I’m sure he was thinking of you and Cady. I don’t—” He paused. “I don’t know if he would have gone through with it. But he told his mother what he wanted.”

“No.” But now Elizabeth seemed less sure. “No.”

“I’m sorry,” Alan said again, now to Jason. “I’ll talk to Father. There’s no reason this has to get any worse—”

He left then, hurrying away. Justus grimaced, then turned his attention back to Jason and Elizabeth. “That went as well as it could have,” he said carefully. “Whatever Jason’s intentions were before the accident, they don’t matter now—”

Jason frowned. “You believe them?”

“I believe Alan believes it,” Justus said. “Let me look into this story. But we’ve got a foot in the door. Alan might even be an ally in the probate hearings. Elizabeth—” He hesitated. “Are you sure there’s nothing you haven’t told me?”

“What?” she looked at him, blinking away the tears. “What does that mean?”

“You and Jason. Before the accident. I know things were hard after Cady—”

“He never told me—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “He never said—”

“But were there arguments? Could Jason have been thinking about it—”

“What does it matter?” Jason demanded, not sure whether he was insulted or relieved that it seemed like they were talking about an entirely different Jason. “I’m here today, and I don’t care about it.”

“I think Elizabeth cares,” Justus said, and now Jason looked at her. “Because if he’d wanted a divorce before this, that would have changed things, wouldn’t it?”

“I—” Elizabeth shook her head and fled the court room.

Jason started after her, but Justus caught his arm. “What’s your problem? She’s upset—”

“And she’s clearly keeping secrets. Because if things were fine,” Justus began, “she’d say that—”

“It doesn’t matter, and I never asked you to do any of that. I never asked you to do anything about my marriage,” Jason bit out. “I asked you to get me out of this conservatorship. You’re the one that told me Elizabeth was the key. Did anything you heard today change that?”

“No, but—”

“Then that’s it. I’m the client, right? I tell you what I want. The judge says no divorce until probate is dealt with. So that’s the end of it. Go deal with probate, Justus. Or do I have to get another lawyer?”

“No, I’ll handle it. I’m sorry, Jase. I didn’t mean—” Justus cleared his throat. “It seems awfully convenient, don’t you think? The Quartermaines didn’t make this story up today. Maybe it’s the first time Elizabeth heard it, but it’s not the first time the judge did. So where did it come from? And does it explain why they’re doing this?”

“I don’t care why. I just want it over with. I want them out of my life, and I want them to leave Elizabeth alone. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I can.”

“Good, then do it. And stay out of the rest of it.”

—

Elizabeth hadn’t gone far by the time Jason caught up with her — they’d driven together, after all. She stood by the car, leaning against it.

Jason stepped up to her, already tugging at his tie. “Elizabeth—”

“No. I—” She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please. Can we…” She reached up, slid the end of the tie through a loop and then released the loose ends to rest against his jacket. “Not yet, okay? I just want to go home.”

“Yeah, all right.” He reached past her, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. “I’ll drive.”

“Thanks.”

—

“How did it go?” Monica surged to her feet as soon as Edward and Alan came into the parlor. Alan closed the double parlor doors while Edward headed for the minibar.

“The judge granted the injunction,” Alan said. He dragged a hand down his face. “We’re going to have issues in probate court, Father. Jason was never assigned a lawyer, was he?”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Edward muttered. He poured a whiskey.

“A lawyer?” Monica echoed. “What does that mean?”

“A conservatee is given legal representation separate from the conservators. To guard his interests. And Jason can prove that was never happened. The whole thing is never going to get far enough to worry about Elizabeth given any power. The judge is going to invalidate it.”

“Which means Jason gets control of everything again,” Monica said. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“The judge isn’t even interested in hearing that Jason wanted the divorce,” Edward said. “If only we had some kind of proof—” He focused on his daughter-in-law. “Tell me again. From the top what Jason said that day.”

“Why do we need to go through it again—”

“Because Elizabeth looked like she’d been sucker punched,” Alan said, and she looked at him. “She didn’t know. Never had a clue. Did Jason say he’d talked to her?”

“Well, no, he didn’t. I don’t think he had. I thought he was worried she’d talk him out of it. You know she was always able to explain everything away — but I could testify—”

“Hearsay,” Edward muttered. “We need proof. Witnesses aren’t enough.”

“Especially since our witnesses are you and AJ,” Alan said gently. “Justus would just point out how many times you’ve expressed a dislike for Elizabeth. Father, maybe it’s time we just…we could negotiate with Jason. He might be willing to let this go away—”

“I’m not giving him or that shrew one red cent. You see, Monica? That girl got to him today with her tears. Well, not me. We’ll come up with something. We always do.”

—

“Hey.” Ned stepped back to let Justus inside. “What’s up? How did it go in court?”

“Are we alone?” Justus wanted to know, looking around the room. “Where’s Lois?”

“At L&B, what’s going? Did court go that badly?”

“No. We won, and the judge wasn’t interested in doing Edward any favors, so that’s worth something.” Justus set the briefcase down on the desk. “Before the accident. How often would you say you talked to Jason?”

“Uh, not much.” Ned slid his hands in his pockets, frowned as he considered the question. “He came here every Sunday with the baby, but then the accident — I was there. I helped him out with some paperwork. You know, Liz being in a coma, there were arrangements. I’m not sure how he kept moving, especially those first few days when we didn’t think she’d pull through either.”

“Okay. That gives me something.” Justus leaned against the desk. “Monica told Alan and Edward that Jason was here the day of the accident to talk about filing for divorce.”

Ned said nothing for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Not possible. She dreamed it. Or hallucinated. No way Jason goes in the first week of November from looking like a dead man walking to divorcing his wife seven weeks later. It doesn’t compute for me.”

“Not even if he started to blame or resent her?”

“No!” Ned slided his hand through the air. “And he never did. Hell, Justus, Jason was blaming himself. Kept saying if he hadn’t called her at Luke’s, she would have stayed longer and never been on the road when that drunk asshole got behind the wheel. What the hell is this about. Justus? You don’t believe Monica—”

“I think Alan believes it. I think it’s a big thing to lie about, especially when they’re going on the record.” Justus considered it. “Could Jason have been thinking about the family feud? Thinking Liz was better off without his family?”

“Oh, I have no doubt Jason was coming to that conclusion by then,” Ned said almost sourly. “But he wouldn’t have left her. He’d have walked away from the family. What does it matter?”

“It probably doesn’t. I just—I owe it to Jason for him to have the full story. The right story,” Justus added. “Because if Elizabeth knows Jason wants a divorce, maybe she never fights anything—the power of attorney. Maybe she takes the first offer, which was the most generous.”

“So? She didn’t know—”

“Jason moved back into the apartment.” Justus looked almost grim. “I didn’t think about it much after that, but today when they came in—I think maybe something’s going on. I think they’re sleeping together.”

“I—” Ned closed his mouth. “So what—” He stopped. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to swallow the bullshit this family has been spewing about Elizabeth manipulating people. Don’t you think it’s just more likely that they’re two attractive people—”

“I didn’t say I think she’s using the situation. I pushed it,” Justus said. “She had to be convinced, almost kicking and screaming. But she wanted space. Distance. And I shoved her right back in the middle. And I feel guilty. Because whatever happens next—I don’t know. I didn’t expect it.”

“It’s not your job to worry about any of it. They’re adults. Jason wasn’t going to leave Elizabeth before the accident, so I’m not that mad it looks like he’s not leaving her now. I don’t care what the family says. They’re lying or mistaken or—I don’t know if there’s a third option.” Ned shook his head. “Jason loved her. Maybe he sucked at taking her side, but the way they acted after that little baby died — it was killing him. Something was going to give, Justus, but we’ll never know what he would have chosen. All we can do is make sure he gets the choice now.”

—

Elizabeth kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered the apartment. Behind her, Jason tossed his suit jacket on the sofa, and was rolling up his sleeves.

“They never said anything like that before,” Elizabeth said. He frowned at her. “Saying Jason wanted to—” She couldn’t even say it again. “They only said that they had Jason’s best interests in mind. That’s all. If—if this was true, why wouldn’t they have said something before?”

“I don’t know.” Jason tipped his head. “Does it matter?”

“I—” She exhaled slowly. “It shouldn’t. Does it matter to you?”

“No. I don’t remember any of it. And we haven’t known each other that long, but I don’t see you putting yourself through any of this if you’d had an out. Justus is right, isn’t he? You would have taken the first settlement if you thought it was already over.”

“I don’t…maybe.” She bit her lip. “But the conservatorship—I mean, I knew you didn’t remember.” She leaned against the back of the sofa. “I knew we wouldn’t be married anymore, so sometimes I thought about taking the agreement. But I couldn’t stand knowing they were in control. I couldn’t walk away like that.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I just…I wish I could know for sure. And I hate that they did this. That they put this thought in my head so that I’ll keep going over the last weeks again and again—”

“Don’t give them the satisfaction.” Jason folded his arms. “As far as you knew, things were hard but you were still married. Nothing they said today should change that. And if he was dumb enough to leave you, well, that’s his problem. It has nothing to do with us.” He threw those last words out almost like a challenge, and she had to smile.

“Nothing to do with us except we’re technically talking about you, and I’m still wearing this—” She flexed her fingers, the rings glinting.

“We talked about this, didn’t we?” he asked her. He reached for the hand she held out, tugged her up, towards him until she fell into his arms. “We agreed not to complicate it. That—all of it—it’s out there.” He tipped his head towards the window. “This is just us.”

She wished she had his certainty, wished she could believe he’d always feel this way. But she wanted to believe it. “Okay. Then it’s just us.” She slid her fingertips down the placket of buttons fastening his dress shirt. “What do you think we should do until we have to go to work?”

His smile was quick. “I can think of a few things.”

Written in 57 minutes.

---

“Why does anyone wear this crap?” Jason demanded, striding through the open bedroom door as Elizabeth stepped back from the closet, smoothing nervous hands down the skirt of her dark blue dress.  Jason was partially dressed in the suit Sonny had brought to the bar the night before, his dress shirt still unbuttoned down to his collarbone, and a silk tie in his hands.

Elizabeth managed a smile, crossed the room to her. “Because someone a long time ago decided that men needed to wear something around their neck to be considered properly dressed.” She took the tie and wound it around his neck, pausing to fasten the last few buttons.

“Stupid,” Jason muttered, but tipped his chin back so that she could finish looping the tie through, creating a perfect Windsor knot. “You did that fast. Did you always have to do this for me?”

“No. You never wore suits. That’s why there’s none here. Maybe you had them at the mansion.” Elizabeth smoothed the line of his shirt, then left her hands rest on his chest, pretending to adjust the buttons. “My father taught me. It was something I used to do for him when I was younger whenever he wore a suit. Glad I could do it. It’s been a while since he and my mother went abroad for Doctors Without Borders.” She patted his chest, stepped back. “All you need is your jacket and shoes.”

“Yeah, they’re out in the living room.” Jason watched as she went over to her dresser, sifted through her jewelry. When she reached for the ID bracelet she’d removed before            bed the night before, he went to her. “I’ll help with the clasp.”

“Thanks. I always have a hard time, and my fingers are shaking. I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she admitted. “But it’s the first time I’ve seen any of the Quartermaines since, um, well, since you came to Luke’s.”

“First time I’ve seen them, too,” Jason muttered. “Justus told me I couldn’t go to the mansion and punch anyone, especially not the old man. I wasn’t going to, but once he said I couldn’t—” He paused. “The sooner today is over, the sooner we can get on to the next step.” And the sooner he’d be free to think about making Edward and Alan pay for what they’d done to him — to Elizabeth. “I don’t want them to be a part of my life.”

“Me either. Let’s hope Justus is as good as he says he is.”

—

The family court room wasn’t as as large as one used for criminal or civil court, but it was still an intimidating sight, Elizabeth thought, as she trailed in behind Jason and Justus. Edward and Alan were already at one table with their lawyer, and Edward sneered at Elizabeth when he saw her.

Alan made brief eye contact before looking at Jason, then down at the table. Elizabeth had always thought of all the Quartermaines, she’d had the best chance of getting Alan on his side. He always seemed slightly pained that he and Jason were at odds, but every time he’d wavered, Edward or Monica had said something that would tip him back the other way. He’d always struck her as a well-meaning but generally clueless father who had taken one too many steps back as Jason had grown up and didn’t know how to connect with anyone not in medicine.

“Don’t look at them,” Justus murmured as they took their seats. “Keep your attention on the judge. I’ll make my case, they’ll make theirs. The judge might have some questions for one or the both of you. With any luck, we’ll walk out of here with our injunction.”

Elizabeth clasped her hands tightly in her lap, managed a short nod, then looked at Jason, wondering what he was thinking.

Jason had avoided looking at Edward or Alan, not entirely trusting his impulse control. He’d had trouble with that since waking up, and this would be the wrong time to lose that fight. The judge needed to see Jason as completely in control—he had to question the use of a conservatorship.

The bailiff called the court to order, and a man in dark robes took a seat behind the high bench. He slid his glasses on. “Please be seated. Call the case.”

“Quartermaine vs. Quartermaine,” the clerk said handing up a file.

“Justus Ward for the respondent, on behalf of Elizabeth Quartermaine and Jason Quartermaine.”

“Your Honor, we object—”

“I’m just taking appearances,”  the judge said, interrupting the other lawyer as he leapt to his feet. “There’s no jury to impress.”

“Lionel Barber, representing the conservators of Jason Quartermaine’s estate, Edward and Alan Quartermaine. Mr. Ward has no standing to appear on Jason’s behalf—”

“Well, why doesn’t Jason’s lawyer in the probate case appear?” Justus asked, and Barber glared at him. “You know, the one that is legally required to be assigned to my client. He should be here to make sure Jason’s interests are being represented—”

“That’s what I’m for—”

“That’s an excellent suggestion, Mr. Ward. Mr. Barber, who is the attorney assigned to Jason Quartermaine in the probate court?” The judge lifted his brows. “Surely you know that you cannot represent both the conservatorship and the conservatee.”

“Your Honor, that’s a matter for probate court—”

“Well, since you declined to bring Mr. Quartermaine’s attorney, I see no reason why I can’t at least entertain Mr. Ward. After all, if I’m not mistaken—” The judge looked over at their table, and Jason straightened, feeling the other man’s eyes on him. “And I wouldn’t be since I’ve known you since you were a small boy—you walked in on your own free will. Did you hire Mr. Ward?”

Jason cleared his throat, not prepared to be directly questioned already. “”Uh, yes. Sir,” he added. “I hired Mr. Ward.”

“And you can speak in full sentences, so that seems to be good enough for me. At least for the purposes of this hearing. And Mr. Barber, I’ll be expecting the name of Mr. Quartermaine’s probate attorney by end of business,” the judge said, switching his attention back to the other the table. “That shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well—” Barber hesitated. “I don’t know—”

“It might be a small problem, Your Honor,” Justus said. He rose. “If I may? It’s part of my argument.”

“Might as well. You’re asking for an injunction?”

“Yes. If there is an attorney representing my client in probate, he’s doing so without Jason’s knowledge or participation. You see, Your Honor, my client was in complete ignorance about a number of facts up until a few weeks ago. Indeed, his entire family was, save for the men at the table over there. He did not know he was in a conservatorship, and he did not know he was married, much less that a divorce and eviction was being pursued on his behalf.”

The judge tipped his head. “What about the wife? She never said anything to this court about that—”

“While Elizabeth suspected Jason was in complete ignorance on this fact, she did not have access to him until after he’d left the Quartermaine estate.” Justus held up a folder. “I have affidavits from several members of the Quartermaine staff and family that Mrs. Quartermaine was denied access to her husband on at least two occasions. And I also have a copy of the power of attorney that Dr. Alan Quartermaine used to keep Elizabeth out of the ICU prior to her husband’s discharge. In short, your Honor, Jason did not know she existed or that he, legally speaking, under the control of his grandfather and father.”

“Hard to agree to a divorce if you don’t know there’s a wife,” the judge said. He looked at the other side. “What do you have to say to all that, Mr. Barber?”

“Your Honor, I’m not prepared to stipulate to Jason Quartermaine’s knowledge, or lack thereof, on any of these matters. At least until we can have a doctor to examine him to be sure—”

“Why don’t we put your clients on the stand and ask them if, as the conservators of this young man, they ever told him that? And asked if he wanted a divorce from his wife?” The judge leaned forward. “They can testify to that, can they not?”

“Your Honor—” Barber just grimaced. “I once again have to remind you that Mr. Ward has no right to speak on Mr. Quartermaine’s behalf. Whether Mr. Quartermaine hired him or not is not material — he is not legally able to agree to any such contract—”

“Oh, did you think because we’ve golfed together a time or to, Edward, that I’d ignore your grandson sitting over there, perfectly hale and whole?”

Edward scowled, opened his mouth but his lawyer held out a hand. “Your Honor, the law is clear—”

“Isn’t it funny how probate law and family law are two different branches with completely different rules legislating procedure?” The judge dismissed the other man, looked at Justus. “Why don’t we cut to the chase? Mr. Quartermaine, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Why don’t you come on up and take the oath, and we’ll get this settled?”

Jason reluctantly rose, and crossed the courtroom to sit in the witness stand, holding his hand up to swear to tell the truth. And then he was sitting down, facing the rest of the courtroom. Facing the men who had dragged him in here.

Who had been dragging Elizabeth through this mess for months. He turned away from them, focused on the judge.

“How are you feeling these days, Jason?”

“Uh, good?” Jason said, uncertainly. “Do you mean since the accident?”

“Sure. It was a bad one, I read in the papers they filed. But you look recovered well enough. Any lasting problems?”

“Uh, other than not remembering anything, no—” Jason winced. “I have a type of aphasia,” he said reluctantly. “Do you—should I explain it?”

“If you could, yes.”

Jason almost squirmed at the thought of talking about himself where people could see him, but he needed to get this over with. “The doctors said I had trouble with processing some types of visuals. Photographs aren’t too bad, but movies, television. Anything that moves—it’s hard. I have to focus and concentrate. There’s some types of letters—the really—” Jason made a gesture with his hand like a swirl. “Sometimes they’re difficult. But it’s better than it used to be.”

“Good. Good. Glad to see you’re doing well, and all things considered, it could have been much worse. So, your lawyer tells me you didn’t know about the conservatorship. Or about your wife. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Jason glanced over at Elizabeth but she was staring down at the table. He looked at Edward and Alan, displeased to see the older man glaring in her direction. “Yes. I didn’t know about it until she—Elizabeth—told me.”

“When did she do that? Your lawyer says she was denied all access.”

“I…left. The mansion. Over a month ago. At first, I got a room at Kelly’s, but then Ruby Anderson said the Quartermaines told her I had to go. I stayed at Jake’s for a little while, but the owner said I couldn’t anymore. There were some warehouse jobs that stopped putting me on the schedule.” Jason flexed his hands in his lap, trying not to fist them, just thinking of how humiliating it had been to show up at the warehouse that last time only to be told he wasn’t wanted anymore. Or the way Ruby Anderson had avoided looking at him when she’d turned him out.

“Then Luke Spencer told me he had a job I could do. That the Quartermaines wouldn’t stop him from hiring him—”

“Objection—”

The judge waved off the lawyer’s words. “So you went to work at Luke’s. That’s the bar where your wife works?”

“Yes.” Jason shifted slightly. “His partner, Sonny, said I could have a room over the bar. I stayed there the first week. I met Elizabeth first night.”

“Did she tell you then?”

“No. Not that first day. She didn’t know I was going to be there. Luke and Sonny did that without telling her. It was the first time we’d seen each other.”

“But she did tell you eventually?”

“The next day. She told me that we’d…that we were married. That…we’d had a daughter. And when I asked why no one had told me and where’d she been, she brought me all the legal paperwork that explained it.”

“So you never met with a lawyer about your choices?” the judge asked. “No one told you that you couldn’t enter into a rooming contract or take a job without the permission of Edward Quartermaine?”

Jason clenched his jaw. “No. No one said anything. I thought I was losing all of that because they were making threats. But until Elizabeth told me, I never knew the court said they could do that.”

“Your lawyer has filed an injunction to stop the divorce from going ahead,” the judge continued. “If I deny his motion, do you know what happens?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “No, what?”

“I dismiss Mrs. Quartermaine’s objection to the divorce. You’re in a contested divorce, Mr. Quartermaine. Your wife has refused any property settlement, generous and not so generous ones. I’m unaware of an eviction,” the judge said, looking over at the Quartermaines’ table with narrowed eyes. “But I imagine if I went looked at the landlord tenant docket, I might find something.”

“I saw the paperwork for that,” Jason said. “So, yeah, that’s happening.”

“If I deny this motion and dismiss the objection, I set a date for divorce to be finalized in thirty days. Now, despite what your family might want, I think Mrs. Quartermaine is owed some financial settlement, something exceeding what was on the table. So I can set this divorce to be finalized, and she won’t walk away empty-handed. But your lawyer says you don’t want that. Their lawyer—” The judge gestured towards them. “Says you do.”

“How would they know?” Jason said, almost darkly. “No one ever asked me.”

“Mr. Barber?” The judge straightened. “Care to comment on that?”

“Your Honor, as we’ve stated more than once, this divorce is not only desired by the conservators, but it was the intention of Jason Quartermaine prior to his tragic accident.”

Jason frowned, jerked his attention back to Justus who looked bewildered. Elizabeth had raised her head, her eyes wide.

“What? What does that mean?” Elizabeth demanded. “Justus—” Their lawyer held up a hand.

The judge didn’t look like it was news he’d heard before either. “I suppose you have paperwork or something to back that statement up—”

“A conversation that Mr. Quartermaine had with his mother prior to the accident—”

“Hearsay,” Justus snapped. “And not material to this proceeding. Whether Jason wanted a divorce then or not, he’s saying differently today.”

“But—” Elizabeth’s lips were parted. “He didn’t—”

“I see that this is news to Mrs. Quartermaine, too. And Mr. Quartermaine hasn’t told me differently yet.” The judge looked at him expectantly. “Well? Does it change your mind that it’s a possibility that you wanted a divorce before you lost your memory?”

“Why would I care about something I don’t remember?” Jason wanted to know. “All the Quartermaines have done is lie since I woke up. No, I don’t want a divorce. That should be enough.”

“Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Quartermaine. You can have a seat.”

Jason returned to the table, sat next to Elizabeth and reached for her hand. It was shaking, and he wondered what she was thinking, if she had any idea why the Quartermaine lawyer would have said such a thing.

“Your Honor,” Barber began.

“I know, Mr. Ward has no standing, and so on, but I think that there’s enough here to warrant an injunction. I will delay ruling on the finalization of the divorce pending the outcome of the petition that Mr. Ward has filed in probate court. Figure this out, folks, because a probate judge isn’t going to be amused by this story any more than I was.”

The gavel dropped then, echoing in the room like a gunshot.

Written in 60 minutes.

---

Sometimes he thought about who he’d been before he’d awakened in January. Not about who he’d known or where’d he’d lived, or what he did all day, but little things. Had he always disliked people so much? Did he like peppermint? He didn’t now, and it was a strange thing to have such an intense dislike for.

And had it always been so easy for him to wake up? To open his eyes and simple be fully alert?

He’d seen some drunks at Jake’s who’d slept off the booze upstairs, then slunk out the next morning with a hangover, their eyes bloodshot and red. At Kelly’s, there’d been a waitress who slept across the hall who was always rubbing her eyes when they’d bumped into each other on the way to the shared bathroom—

But Jason just opened his eyes, and was simply awake. And sometimes, he just closed his eyes and could drop into sleep within a minute or two. Was that new? Or had he always been like that?

The thoughts raced through his head briefly when he woke up in the time it took his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. There wasn’t any light, only the stinging moonlight filtering through the bedroom’s single window on the other side of the room. It was a small room — he hadn’t noticed that the first time he’d been in here. It fit a dresser, a double bed with a single nightstand and an armchair shoved beneath that one window. There was barely a foot of space separating it from the bed.

And Elizabeth was curled up in it, looking out the window, the moonlight washing over her face. She’d pulled on his t-shirt, and it swallowed her petite frame. He frowned, glanced at the empty space next to him. He spread his hand out—it was cold. How long had she’d been awake? And why?

She must have heard the sheets rustling as he sat up, because she turned, her face sliding back into the shadows, the moonlight on her hair now. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No. What time is it?”

“A little after three.” She drew one knee up, tucked her other leg beneath it, then wrapped her arms around the knee. “Couldn’t sleep.”

The silence stretched between them for a long moment, and she sighed. “It’s because of my family.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Why you can’t sleep?”

“No. I mean, probably. But…you asked me earlier. Why I take it.” Her breath was shaky now, and Jason leaned over to switch on the small lamp on the night table. It didn’t offer much light, but it was better than nothing. “And it’s because of my family.”

“Your family,” Jason repeated, not seeing or understanding the connection. “Why?”

“I told you, I think, in the beginning that the Quartermaines thought I was the wrong Webber sister. I wasn’t exaggerating. Monica asked you that.” Her lips were thin, pressed into an unhappy line. “You brought me to the Christmas party, and it was the first time they knew we’d been dating. She looked at me and then at you, and said, ‘Why couldn’t it have been Sarah?'”

Jason didn’t like that at all. “Did I defend you?”

“You would have probably,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked away again, out the window. “But he didn’t. Not the way you would have. He was used to his mother not liking anyone he dated. She hadn’t liked Keisha either. Or Karen. Not good enough for her son. No one would have been. But especially not me.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to talk about it like you’re different people. But you are in a lot of ways.”

“I think about it that way most of the time,” Jason admitted. “Or I did until I met you.”

“I’m sorry about that, you know. That coming to Luke’s made you spend so much time in a life you were trying to run away from.”

“That’s my problem, not yours.”

“Still. Anyway. I grew up hearing that. Why wasn’t I more like Steven and Sarah? The perfect children with the perfect grades, the right friends, the good behaviors, the bright future. My family wasn’t wealthy — no where near the position in Port Charles society that the Quartermaines are. Or the Barringtons, or any of the snobs that live on Harborview Drive. But we were respected. My parents were doctors. They worked with Alan and Monica. Monica was actually my dad’s first wife.”

“I—I didn’t know that.”

“It was a brief marriage. Barely worth mentioning. But it’s part of it, I guess. I was the kind of Webber you talk about in hushed tones. The black sheep. The way they talk about AJ. Except I didn’t drink and give them a reason to ship me away.” She shrugged. “I daydreamed too much, barely made it out of high school, and just generally lived down to their poor expectations. By the time I came to that Christmas party, I was used to people looking at me and being disappointed. I take it, Jason, because it’s what I’m used to.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Jason sat, his knees slightly bent and apart with his hands clasped loosely on top. “That’s what they did. After the accident. Looked at me like I was…” His mouth tightened. “They said in the hospital I was damaged. The brain injury would never fully heal. Not just my memories. Other things.”

Elizabeth looked at him, tipped her head. “Other than the aphasia?”

“Frontal lobe damage,” Jason told her. “I looked it up when I got out. That controls the way you think, how you remember things, how you interact with people. That one doctor said I wouldn’t be able to function all the way. Problem solving. I might end up like a third grader. Or worse.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Elizabeth said. “Was that Tony? Dr. Jones?”

“Yeah. He seemed interested in studying me.” Jason shook his head. “They wanted me to agree. To keep coming in and being interviewed. To let doctors follow me around and chart my progress—like a lab rat,” he muttered. “I told them no. But they never stopped asking.” He cleared his throat. “Alan put the medical book in front of me because I wanted to be a doctor and he thought some part of me would still be interested. I was a medical mystery,” Jason bit out, “and I owed it to the world. I could never practice on people. But maybe I could go into research. So people could study me.”

Elizabeth rose from the chair, returned to the bed and sat on the end of the bed, facing him, her legs crossed. “So you threw the book out the window.”

“Yeah.” A half smile curved on his lips as Jason remembered. “The sound it made crashing through the glass, the way Alan looked, that felt good. But then they talked about sending me away. I left the next day.”

“You should have thrown him out the window,” Elizabeth said, and now his smile was wider. “No, that’s just awful. He’s your father! How could he—” She stopped. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Just now, when I said Alan was your father, you made this face.” She mimicked it, wrinkling her nose with a look of distaste in her eyes. “You don’t consider him your father at all, do you? Even a bad one?”

“I—” Jason considered how to put it into words without making it sound crazy. Or stupid. “Logically, I know that Alan is…there’s a biological connection. He’s the father. Monica’s the mother through adoption. It’s legal. It’s science. I know that. All of them, I understand that’s how it works. But I don’t want to…claim them. I need to separate it. I don’t…I don’t know why really. Why it matters. But it does.”

“I think it’s probably a healthy way to consider the whole thing. It was probably overwhelming for you to wake up and have all these people tell you those things about a life you didn’t remember. That’s…that’s why you didn’t want me to tell you…” Elizabeth fingered the bracelet around her wrist. “Why you wanted to see her name for herself.”

“I didn’t know it until then either,” Jason told her. “Every thing I know about who I used to be, it’s something I was told. You’re our son, you’re going to be a doctor—” His lips tightened again. “All those people. Telling me that they were my cousin, or my grandfather, or my brother, my sister—I didn’t know what any of it meant. Or what to do with it. I didn’t know who I was and all these people were telling me who I was supposed to be and how to feel about them.”

He looked at her. “But that didn’t happen with you. I saw that envelope and it had our name on it. Together. Jason and Elizabeth Quartermaine. I think I knew what you were going to tell me even before you said it, and I could…I could accept it. Because it wasn’t just you. It was something real in the world. And then you gave me that photo…” Jason leaned over the bed, dug around for the jeans he’d kicked off and tugged out his wallet.

“I feel so bad shoving that at you now that I know they’re hard for you—”

“I didn’t know there was a point in trying,” Jason said. He looked at it — every piece of it familiar to him now. He no longer had to struggle to make out the lines and curves and colors. He knew the images that the shapes formed. “I didn’t know you could see facts in a photo. That you could…know them. I didn’t know until then why it was so hard with the Quartermaines. They kept showing me trophies and certificates telling me what they meant. But you didn’t do that. You gave me the photo and you let me figure it out.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I just…I was angry you thought I was lying. I wanted you to see the proof.”

“I did.” He touched the photo, traced the small piece that had been his daughter. His. “I don’t remember her. Or being this man. Or who we were together. But I can see that it meant something. That it was real. To the people in this photo. I didn’t…until I knew about her, I didn’t care that I didn’t remember. But now I wish I did.”

“I wish you did, too.” Elizabeth smiled wistfully. She reached for the photo. “Not so we can have this life back. It was over even before your accident. But she was such a sweet baby, and she liked you better than me. I know the books said babies don’t really know the difference that early, but she knew. She liked your voice.” She exhaled slowly, handed him the photo. “I don’t want you to be him.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“I mean, it’s weird. And it’s complicated. And it’s why I didn’t want…” She looked around the room, then directly at him. “It’s why I wanted to wait. Or really think about what this was. Because physically, biologically, you’re the same man you were before the accident. But you’re not who you were. And you deserve someone who understands that. Who cares about you. And I wasn’t sure that was…or could be me.”

Jason frowned, not sure he liked where she was going with that. “But you kissed me tonight,” he said slowly. “And then we came in here. And it wasn’t just once—”

Her cheeks flushed, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “No, I know. We took a break for the pizza, but—I don’t know. You stood in the kitchen and you asked me why I didn’t get mad. Luke’s asked me that before, and I always told him I didn’t have the energy, and that’s still true. But I also didn’t…” She bit her lip. “I let the Quartermaines treat me that way because of my family. Because it’s just how I’m built. But I also…I think I was afraid that if I ever really pushed it, maybe…he’d change his mind. I never wanted him to feel like there had to be a choice. Because I wasn’t sure I’d win.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Jason said. “Not you,” he added when she blinked.  “Him for making you feel that way. I don’t know what it feels like to be married. What it means, I guess. But I think it should start with standing up to your parents. You’re making a new family when you get married, right? Why would you do that and let the old one make the new one unhappy?”

Her mouth parted slightly. “I wasn’t…unhappy—”

“Were you happy?” he asked bluntly, and she looked away. “That’s what I thought. You don’t have to protect an idiot husband anymore. It was a choice, and he made the wrong one. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Yeah, but…” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “What if we win on Wednesday? What if the judge says, no you can’t go forward with the divorce. We’re still legally married. I know you said we could date, and I…I’ve liked that. But isn’t it ignoring the whole—” She wiggled her fingers and he saw the rings. He looked down at his hands—bare, some scars that hadn’t faded from the accident. Had he worn a ring?

“If it bothers you, we could get a divorce later,” Jason told her, and she bit her lip. “It doesn’t matter to me. I told you, I don’t really get why marriage matters. I mean, maybe there’s some legal stuff I don’t really remember. But if it’s a promise, then why bring the law into it? We can make it again later if you want. Or leave it alone. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“I don’t know. It just feels so complicated—” She yelped when Jason snagged her arm and yanked her forward, falling back at the same time so that she was draped over him. “Hey.” She sat up slightly, flattening her hands on either side of the mattress so that she was taking on some of her own weight, her hair hanging down, the tips brushing his chest.

“You’re complicating something that doesn’t need to be.” Jason slid his hands up underneath the shirt, his hands braced against her hips, cradling her body beneath his parted legs. “I like you. You like me. And this part is good. Does the rest of it really matter?”

She bit her lip, then slowly lowered herself down until she was laying against his chest, her head tucked under his chin, her fingers tracing a pattern against his skin. “You make it sound simple.”

“Because it is. This is what matters. You and me. It’s all I care about.” He stroked her back, then swept her hair out of her face. “They don’t matter anymore. Not to me. So stop letting them matter to you.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Elizabeth leaned up, captured his mouth with hers, and pulled at his shoulders until they’d rolled and he was covering her. “I have a better idea of how to spend the rest of the night.”

Written in 60 minutes.

---

By the time Edward had walked their lawyer to the door, his confidence in their ultimate goal had been restored. After all, he was Edward Quartermaine — he’d contributed to all the right people, spread money in the right places—his legal team would run right over some dinky family court judge, and Justus—well, Justus was a fine lawyer, but he was a bleeding heart liberal. No match for anyone ruthless.

Edward recounted all these facts to Alan before dinner that night, and Alan accepted that his father didn’t believe they were in trouble, but Alan couldn’t quite find that confidence. It was one thing to orchestrate all of these things when Jason hadn’t been aware or fighting back—

It was another to sit in a court room and active oppose what his own son wanted to do. Even if that son didn’t remember his life or choices he’d made before the accident. Jason was still Alan’s child, and all of this turmoil weighed on him.

“Well?” Monica rose as soon as Alan entered the family room. “What’s going on? What does Edward say?”

Alan closed the door behind him, made a face. “Father remains convinced, but I’m not so sure. I know you’re angry that we took it this far, Monica, but I remain convinced it was the only way to do right by Jason. The power of attorney alone wouldn’t have given us the right to protect Jason’s trust fund. When he comes to his senses and realizes we only want what’s best, he’ll understand.”

“I just wish you’d told me,” Monica said. She paced the length the room. “It was humiliating to be confronted that way, in front of Lois who has never understood what it means to be a Quartermaine. For all my faults, Alan, I always did.”

Alan wasn’t so sure about that since Monica had once tried to bankrupt ELQ and tossed them out of the house but that had been more than a decade and two remarriages ago, so it was water under the bridge. “I was worried that you’d begun to soften towards Elizabeth. That you might think Father and I had gone too far—”

“I was,” Monica muttered. “I thought she was making the right choice, walking away from Jason. Not showing up here, begging to see him. I thought she’d learned about the memory loss and had cut her losses. But she was just regrouping. And it worked—” She whirled to face him, her eyes a bit desperate now. “It worked, Alan! How can that be possible? Jason has rejected every damn piece of the life we worked so hard to give him, but her? Her he wants to keep?”

“Monica—”

“It’s just like before,” Monica muttered. She resumed her pacing, one arm wrapped around her waist protectively, the other nibbling at her fingernails. “Just like it. Do you remember when he came to you to pay that girl’s tuition at some ridiculous art school? They weren’t even dating—and she’d almost talked him into giving her a hundred thousand dollars—”

“I wish you wouldn’t let that upset you—”

“And you know she got pregnant to trap him. It’s the oldest trick in the book! Jason’s too careful—especially after what happened to Stone Cates—She probably poked holes in the damn condom—” Monica took a deep breath, turned back to Alan. “And just when I thought there was some use to her, when I thought at least we’d have that precious child to love—that reckless girl destroyed everything—”

Alan stopped her, placing his hands at her shoulders. “Darling, don’t get so upset. Father and I are managing this—”

“But you said you’re not so sure. You said—”

“I said that I’m not so sure things on Wednesday go as well as he thinks. I wouldn’t be surprised if the judge grants an injunction—”

“Alan!”

“Monica, what do you think the family court is going to do? Jason’s perfectly capable of making this decision. He can choose to be married, just as he could before the accident. And if he went out and married the first idiot off the street, I’d tell you that we’d have to live with that. But he didn’t choose this marriage, and I don’t think it’s fair to allow it to stand when we know Jason wanted differently before the accident. A judge is going to see that if Jason can choose to get married now, then he can choose to stay married.”

“What if we told the judge everything we know? I could tell them about the last conversation Jason and I—”

“You could. But it would be hearsay, Monica.” Alan sighed. “I wish we had some proof of what he was planning, but we might be out of luck.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” she demanded. “Just let her keep dragging our son down into the mud? If Jason gets his trust fund back, what’s to stop him from putting her name right back on it—”

“Jason saw through her once, my dear. I’m going to try to convince Father not to fight too hard on Wednesday. This won’t be won in a court of law, but public opinion. Jason’s public opinion. All we have to do is make sure he sees Elizabeth for who we know she is.”

“Why couldn’t he have fallen for Sarah?” Monica muttered. She dropped onto the sofa. “A perfectly lovely and ambitious girl. If it had to be a Webber, why not her?” She sighed. “I know you’re right, Alan. It’s just…she managed to convince him to do this in a matter of weeks. We had two months with him, and somehow—” She closed her eyes. “Why does he want her and not us? Why?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll get through this. I know we will.” He squeezed her hand. “Trust me.”

—

Elizabeth balanced the pizza box in one hand and reached for the phone with the other, turning to flash Jason a smile over her shoulder as he headed into the kitchen with the brown bags of groceries they’d picked up on their way home from working the happy hour shift. “Can you grab this?” she asked, holding out the pizza. “Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Elizabeth?”

“Em.” Elizabeth’s hand tightened around the phone, then she forced herself to relax. She hadn’t called her best friend in more than a week—and so much had changed.

“Lois called me this morning,” Emily said, her tone strangely flat and empty. “What the hell is going on in Port Charles and why didn’t you tell me?”

Jason retrieved the box, but didn’t return to the kitchen, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing. “I was going to call you, but there’s been so much going on—”

“My grandfather put Jason in a conservatorship and you didn’t tell me? They’re trying to force a divorce, and you still didn’t tell me? They’re evicting you and you didn’t tell me? You got back together with my brother and you didn’t tell me. That didn’t all happen last week, Elizabeth.”

“No. No, it didn’t.” Elizabeth sat on the arm of the sofa. “It just kind of got out of control, and you were already back in school—”

“No, no! You don’t get to use that as an excuse—”

“Yeah, I do, Em. You’re three thousand miles away, and these calls aren’t cheap—”

“You’re married to a millionaire—”

“No, I’m married to a millionaire’s grandson, and you know there’s a difference. Jason’s trust fund doesn’t make him a millionaire—and this is a stupid argument. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to cause issues with you and your family—”

“This isn’t about you, Elizabeth! This is about my brother! He’s been through so much, and now I find out my family is trying to control him! I could have helped—what kind of friend are you that you let him be thrown out onto the street before you even lifted a finger to help?”

“Wait. What?” Elizabeth rubbed the back of her neck. “What are you talking about?”

“Lois told me that Dad and Grandfather got Jason fired from any job he tried to get and thrown out of every place he tried to live. How long were you going to let that keep going? Until he was desperate enough to need you?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I didn’t know any of that was happening—”

“Sure. Okay, you just walked away from your husband without a second thought. I don’t buy that—”

“I don’t care what you believe, Emily, it’s the truth! I did the best I could, and you don’t get to judge me from across the country!”

“How can I judge you when you never tell me anything?” Emily accused. “Is that why Luke gave Jason and job? Because he couldn’t get one anywhere else? How long did it take before you talked him into moving back into the apartment?”

“I didn’t talk him into anything—” Elizabeth frowned when the phone was jerked out of her grasp.

Jason lifted it his ear. “Emily?” There was a pause. “No, she didn’t ask me for help. If you’re going to talk about me, why not say it to my face? No, I want to hear what you think Elizabeth is making me do. You can accuse her of doing it, why don’t you ask for my opinion?”

Elizabeth sighed, looked down at her hands, picking at a cuticle. A moment later, she heard the phone clatter as Jason set it back on the base with a hard rattle. “Who hung up, you or her?”

“She did. She said it wasn’t about me, it was between you two. So you tell me what she’s mad about.” Jason folded his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s her problem?”

“I didn’t tell her about the conservatorship. I probably should have. She’s your sister—”

“I don’t know if I’d call her that.”

Elizabeth broke off, confused. “I thought you…you said you liked Emily and Lila.”

“Yeah, but—” Jason’s mouth tightened. “Never mind. It doesn’t have anything to do with her. What’s she going to do about it?”

“Yell at her grandfather, like that’s ever worked. Emily and I were really close growing up, but she went away to college, and it’s…we’ve drifted a little bit. Don’t worry about it. She gets mad for a week, then apologizes later.” Elizabeth headed for the kitchen. “Let’s put these away and eat before it gets cold.”

“Don’t brush me off like that. She was yelling at you about me, and I want to know.”

Elizabeth sighed, started to unpack one of the grocery bags. “I didn’t tell her what was going on. The power of attorney, either. She was so upset and scared for you, and the last thing I wanted to do was put her in the middle of what was happening with me and your—Alan and Monica. And Edward,” she added. She put the eggs in the fridge. “It just…I don’t know. I wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. That’s how I’ve been handling everything for the last few months, honestly. Just don’t look directly at it.” She looked at him. “And she was back in California by the time I found out about the conservatorship. I’ve gotten used to not including Emily in my life. She’s hurt that I shut her out. That I kept her from helping you. She probably doesn’t even mean what she said—”

“You still didn’t tell me what that is.” Jason leaned against the fridge, blocking her from putting away anything else. “Just say it.”

“She thinks I knew you were basically homeless and I let it happen so you’d be desperate enough to need my help, and I’d be able to convince you to come back.”

“And is this what best friends do?” Jason wanted to know. “They accuse you of being manipulative?”

“That’s what Quartermaine best friends do,” she muttered. She bumped him out of the way and put away the milk.

“You lose your husband, your bank account with your money, your home is being threatened, and somehow that makes you the bad guy,” Jason said. “Why don’t you get mad? Why do you just take it?”

Elizabeth blinked. “What?”

“You just let her yell at you. You didn’t yell back. Why would you stay married to someone who wouldn’t defend you against his own family?” He shook his head, went over to pizza box. “I don’t understand that.”

Tears burned. “I didn’t need him to defend me. And I don’t want to yell back. I just want them to leave me alone. I wanted everyone to leave me alone, and they were doing that—”

“They were evicting you,” Jason said, looking at her like she was an idiot. “Trying to bankrupt you—”

“This is just a place. Okay? It’s four walls that I don’t even like. And I knew I could make it go away any time I wanted. All I had to do was agree to sign those divorce papers! I could have made it stop if I wanted to!”

“Then why didn’t you if none of this matters to you?” Jason challenged. “Why keep letting them beat you down?”

Her hands curled into a fist. “Because I made a promise. There are vows. You don’t remember making them to me, and that’s fine, but my memories weren’t erased. I made a promise. In sickness and in health. Honor. Cherish. Jason wouldn’t have let my family control me, and I wasn’t going to let them control you! Okay? I refused to sign those damn papers because they wouldn’t agree to end the conservatorship.” She scowled. “You don’t get to decide that’s not important.”

Jason leaned back against the counter. “So why didn’t you get pissed at Emily? Why do you only get mad at me?”

“I didn’t—” Elizabeth blinked, stepped back. “What? I didn’t get mad at you.”

“The first time we talked. You got angry with me because I was rude. I liked you better when you did that,” Jason added, and she just stared at him, bewildered. “And the next day—when I yelled at you, you yelled back. You didn’t tiptoe around me. Treat me like I was damaged. But you tiptoe around Emily. And the Quartermaines. Why?”

“I don’t—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said finally. She closed her eyes. “You think I’m a victim. That I make myself the victim.”

“I never said that—”

“Like I’m martyring myself,” Elizabeth muttered. “I’m not doing that. I’m not a victim. I’m just trying to survive.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “What are we even fighting about?”

“I don’t know. But I like fighting with you,” Jason told her, and she laughed—just a short surprised burst exploding from her throat. She pressed her hands over her mouth, stifling the rest of it. “We’re done now, right? Do you still want to fight?”

“No. No, I don’t.” She closed the small distance between them, leaned up to kiss him. Jason’s hands immediately tangled in her hair—she fisted her hands in his shirt and started to back away, drawing him with her. “Have you ever had cold pizza?” she asked.

“What happened to waiting?” Jason wanted to know just as they reached the bedroom.

“Did you want to keep doing that?” she asked, her finger tips dancing underneath his shirt. “Because I could stop—” Elizabeth started to step away, but he yanked her back, his arm tight around her waist. “That’s what I thought.”

Written in 68 minutes. Went slightly over, sorry!

---

Monica was a woman with many regrets, and she did her best not to to dwell on them for too long. After all, what was done was done and there was no point in being mired in endless self-pity. But she had a feeling going along with the decision to keep Jason’s marriage a secret would be one regret she’d find to difficult to forget.

After attending the Easter service at Queen of Angels with the rest of the family, Monica sought out her mother-in-law, hoping Lila would be willing to share some of her boundless wisdom and strength.

Instead, she found the elderly woman fretting in the parlor, Lois seated on the sofa, reassuring her that Jason would understand and believe no one had known. After all, Ned hadn’t told her either — Monica frowned at that — Lois was always complaining about the Quartermaines and their penchant for secrecy.

Ned was near the terrace, looking out the garden pensively. He turned when Monica entered, his scowl deepening. “You know, you could have shut this down months ago.”

“I fail to see how since none of us knew what Alan and Edward were up to.” Monica lifted her chin. “I don’t agree with their methods, but their goal—”

“Oh, come on!” Lois threw up her hands, surged to her feet. “What’s it gonna take for you to see you’re wrong about that girl! Ned says she’s been Emily’s best friend for years—”

“A best friend is hardly the same thing as a spouse,” Monica retorted. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you—”

“Well, no one ever could make me understand just what the problem was—sure they were young, and maybe having a kid so quick wasn’t the plan, but they were handling it—”

“Lois.” Ned touched his wife’s shoulder. “I don’t think this is helping—”

“For months you’ve all walked around this house trying to get Jason back into this family, and all you did was push him further away! A conservatorship, Monica! It’s awful, can’t you see it?”

“I don’t know that it was the best choice, but it’s not like Jason’s been under lock and key. He wanted to leave. They let him go—”

“Made it impossible for him to keep a job or a roof over his head,” Ned said. “I’m just surprised it took Luke a month to step in.”

“Elizabeth probably wanted to wait until Jason was desperate—”

“You’ve buried a daughter, you know,” Lois broke in, and Monica stumbled to a stop, stared at the younger woman. “Dawn, right? Ned told me about her—”

“Lois—”

“No, I’m sick of tip toeing around this! We’re gonna talk about it—you buried a daughter, and so did your daughter-in-law. Why couldn’t—”

“I’m not responsible for my daughter’s death,” Monica said tightly. “That’s the difference—”

“No one seriously believes Elizabeth wanted that accident—”

“She had a responsibility to my granddaughter, and she failed. Jason saw that —”

“Monica.”

Lila’s voice was soft, but unmistakable and the trio twisted to look to look at her. “I wish you wouldn’t caste such blame on that child. She nearly died herself, and whatever blame that might be hers, surely she’s paid for it in spades. I think we can afford a little grace. She buried her child before that precious baby could even blossom.”

Monica pressed a closed fist against her abdomen, took a deep breath. “I don’t doubt Elizabeth’s grief. And it’s not for you to understand why Alan and I didn’t approve of Jason marrying Elizabeth. He’s not your son—”

“Yeah, well, the rate you’re going? He’s never going to be yours again, either.”

Monica didn’t break eye contact with her nephew’s wife. “Ned, I think it’s time you and Lois went home to the gatehouse.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough of this family for a life time,” Lois bit out, stalking from the room.

“I’m sorry she brought up Dawn, Monica, but Lois isn’t wrong,” Ned said gently. “Everything we’ve done to keep Jason close has only backfired. And this stunt of Grandfather and Alan? It won’t help anything.”

“Thank you for your concern, Ned, but it won’t be necessary.”

Ned shook his head, then headed for the doorway. Monica pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry for that scene. Lois hasn’t learned to mind her tongue yet.”

“As you have?” Lila asked, arching a brow. Monica frowned at her. “I notice you haven’t quite condemned this…this legal nonsense my husband has orchestrated. That your husband has supported. I wish you could have given Elizabeth a chance. If we’d taken her in, supported her—”

“She was just smarter than Nikki,” Monica cut in sharply. “Alan was able to find her price, but Elizabeth played the long game. You don’t know everything, Lila. Jason wouldn’t have told you of the times he gave her money. The attempts he made to draw on his trust fund so she could waste more time and money at some art school—and that was before she got pregnant. She would have kept taking from him if we couldn’t stop it. And the only reason there’s even money left in that account is Alan and Edward took control away from her.”

“I think Jason had a right to make his choice—”

“And his choice led him to have brains bashed in, so he got what he wanted, didn’t he? She should have cut her losses and moved on, but she didn’t. She waited and she found a way—” Monica shook her head. “Jason saw her for who she was once, and I just have to trust he’ll do it again.”

“What does that mean?” Lila asked, but Monica was already on her way out of the room, leaving the bewildered woman alone with her worries.

—

Across town, on Charles Street, another disapproving family was sitting down to Easter dinner—well, Laura had decided to reserve judgment, Luke thought, but his mind was made up on the whole thing.

Elizabeth had brought Jason after a last minute call that morning, and now the pair of them were in his house, Jason hovering behind Elizabeth, clearly uncomfortable around people he didn’t know or give a damn about.  Luke hadn’t much liked the Quartermaine scion before he’d had his memories scrambled and he wasn’t growing more fond as the days passed.

It had been a mistake, he thought, to ask the kid to come work for him. To take him in and give him shelter from the meddling Quartermaines. He’d thought Elizabeth would get a shock to the system — her husband was gone. Time to give up the ghost, and let Jason fight his own battles. Cut her losses, sign the divorce papers, and move on.

But instead, Jason had pulled Elizabeth back in, asking for her help. And now they were right back where they’d been before the accident — Elizabeth doing all the work, taking all the risks, and Jason reaping the benefits.

“What is your problem?” his sister Bobbie hissed after she caught Luke glaring at Jason’s back when they moved to the dining table. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable—”

“No, I’m not, and lay off, Barbara Jean. You don’t know the situation—”

“I know that you’ve been downright rude to Jason, and Laura is going to murder you if you keep it up—” Bobbie closed her mouth when the woman in question called after them to hurry up and take their seats.

Luke took his sister’s advice to heart — his misgivings weren’t anyone else’s problems, and the last thing he wanted was Elizabeth to think he wasn’t on her side. She was free to make her own mistakes, he thought, it was a free country and all that. So he forced a more genuine smile on his face, passed the mashed potatoes, and ignored the bottom feeder taking advantage of his favorite bar manager.

“Thank you for dinner,” Elizabeth said, kissing his cheek and hugging Laura. “And for the day off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Luke folded his arms, watched them head to Elizabeth’s car—Jason to the passenger side.

When their brake lights had disappeared around the corner, Laura’s smile vanished and she whacked Luke hard in the arm. “Hey!”

“What is your problem? And don’t ask what, I don’t want to play six rounds of dumb before you admit I’m right.” Laura stalked back into the house, and Luke reluctantly followed. Bobbie took one look at her sister-in-law’s expression and decided it was time to decamp.

“Well, this was a lot of fun, but Lucas and I are going to head out.”

“Yeah, tell Doc we were sorry to miss him,” Luke said. When his sister and son had left, he turned to Laura. “Look, I wasn’t that bad—”

“You don’t think Elizabeth knows you better than that? You were rude, Luke. To a guest in our home—”

“To a freeloader,” Luke muttered, heading for the kitchen. He yanked a beer out of the fridge. “I gave him a job I don’t even need to fill—”

“You needed a new bartender—”

“He’s terrible at it—”

“You asked him, Luke. You sought him out—”

“And that’s on me. He’s using her, Laura. Maybe he doesn’t know it,” Luke said. “I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt there. But they were working opposite shifts. She gave him what he needed to figure out the Q’s games, and then she was keeping her distance. Finally figuring out she’s better off without that bastard—”

“You didn’t have to like their financial arrangements—”

“He had millions of dollars in that trust—”

“Luke—”

“And now he’s living with her again. Using her to get out from under the Q’s thumb. Just like before. She was that idiot’s rebellion from his uptight, snooty family, and now she’s his ticket out of there again—”

Laura sighed, looked away, then met his eyes again. “What goes inside of a marriage is only known to the people in it. You know that, Luke. There are plenty of people who don’t think you and I should have even looked twice at each other. You think my mother was wild about you? Your sister hated me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“From the outside, sure, it looked like Jason was using Elizabeth to support him through medical school. But we don’t know why he didn’t want to use that money for more than tuition. And now, yes, it looks like he’s getting all the benefits—”

“They’re dating,” Luke said flatly. “Sonny told me that. How do you date your wife, Laura? You don’t. You’re married or you’re not. He’s stringing her along—”

“Luke—”

“And when he drops her, Elizabeth is going to hit bottom again. Because he might think she’s pretty and want to sleep with her. But he doesn’t love her, Laura. And she’s never  going to see that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t want the world to fall apart again. She’s been through enough.”

“That isn’t a decision you or I get to make,” Laura said. “Just like it’s not on Alan or Monica or Edward Quartermaine. It’s for them.”

“He hurts her, I’m gonna scramble what’s left of his brains,” Luke muttered, grabbing his beer, and heading for the living room.

—

Jason hadn’t noticed Luke’s rudeness or caught any of the dark looks Laura had sent her husband — mostly because he thought the club owner was like that with everyone. So he didn’t think much about dinner once they’d left the house.

It was good to have something to do that wasn’t working behind the bar or taking a ride on the bike, he thought, trailing behind Elizabeth as they walked up to the apartment. It was a good thing Elizabeth had started that conversation about hobbies. He needed something to fill the extra time he had now that he wasn’t worried about where he’d work or sleep.

“Um…it’s still early,” Elizabeth said, taking the jacket from her and hanging it in the small closet by the door. “I don’t know what you want to do. Or maybe you don’t want to do anything. I could make coffee or—”

“What would you normally do?” Jason asked.

She bit her lip, shrugged. She kicked off her low heels, leaving her feet bare as she padded towards the kitchen. “Watch TV or a movie. Lately, go to sleep.” She went into the fridge, found a can of soda. “You want one?”

“I’m good. You can watch something. I don’t care.”

“I guess.” She sat on the sofa, but didn’t reach for the remote. “What would you normally do?”

“Go for a walk.” He sat at the other end of the sofa. “Find somewhere under the docks to sleep. It wasn’t so bad,” he added when she made a face. “And it was only once or twice.”

Elizabeth stood up again, smoothing her hands down the sides of the dress she wore — it reminded him of the color of butter, he thought, as she went to a shelf by the desk. There was a stereo with racks of cassette tapes. She switched it on, fiddled with a knob, filling the room with low sounds of music.

“Um, I listen to music, too. Have you? I mean, is it something you like?”

Jason listened to the song that had been switched on. It was loud, like things were crashing against each other. He winced. “Was it before?”

“Yeah. Hold on—” Elizabeth slid her fingers down one stack, took out a cassette, then popped it into the stereo. “This was one of your favorite songs—”

The loud, crashing music was replaced with a more laid back guitar.

I would like to reach out my hand I may see you,
I may tell you to run (on my way, on my way)

“It’s okay,” he said, though he didn’t know if he really thought it. What was the point of sitting and listening to music? “Uh, do we just…listen?”

She smiled now, and for the first time since they’d gotten home, some of the nerves eased. “Sometimes, yeah. But you can do other things. Like, I used to listen to certain songs to clean, or driving—sometimes you just want the right music for that. You used to study with music a lot.”

She switched something on the stereo. “This is a good radio station for that. Have you, um, tried dancing?” She glanced back at him.

“No. I don’t think I’d like it,” Jason admitted.

So don’t try to deny it, pretty baby
You’ve been down so long you can hardly see

“Well, you won’t know until you try.” Elizabeth held out a hand, and he reluctantly let her pull him to his feet. She was right — maybe he’d like it, but he’d watched people at Luke’s, and it didn’t really look like a lot of fun.

“So…what do I do?” Jason asked. He made a gesture with his hands. “Are people born knowing how to do this? Because—”

The right time to roll to me
The right time to roll to me
The right time to roll to me, ooh

 

“You just sort of—” Elizabeth reached out for his other hands, and she did something with her hips that looked right, but then he tried it and it was so wrong she almost started laughing.

“Okay, so maybe this kind of dancing isn’t right—”

“Are there others?” he asked skeptically.  The song on the radio faded, and a slower one came on. “I could do this one — it doesn’t move fast.”

Close your eyes, make a wish
And blow out the candlelight

Elizabeth glanced at the stereo with narrowed eyes, then sighed, looking back at him. “Yeah, this would be easier,” she admitted. She stepped closer to him. “You just…”

“Oh. Yeah, I’ve seen people do this.” Jason lifted his hands, set them at her hips, and she slid her arms around his neck. “It’s just…swaying.”

“Yeah, it’s easier. Especially when you don’t have any rhythm.”

For tonight is just your night

We’re gonna celebrate
All through the night

“I definitely don’t think dancing is for me,” Jason said, but maybe he could learn to like this kind. He’d seen people at the clubs, dancing like this, though usually they were closer, but remembering their conversation earlier that day—

I will do anything
Girl you need only ask

He looked down at her, but Elizabeth had looked away, staring more at his shirt, then at him. Jason frowned. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“What?” Now her eyes flew to his, startled. “No, it’s um, fine, it’s just—”

And I will not let go
‘Til you tell me to

“I like this,” Jason decided, and she smiled faintly, the blush flooding her cheeks, then down her neck, to her chest. Elizabeth bit her lip, but she didn’t look away now. Somehow, she stepped closer to him, or maybe he’d moved—

Anything that you ask
I will give you the love of your life

“I like it, too,” she confessed. Her hand slid down his chest, the other stayed around his neck, and her gaze held his, her pretty blue eyes that he wouldn’t mind looking at for the rest of the night.

And I will not let go
‘Til you tell me to

The song faded around them, and the radio moved into a faster, more upbeat song, and Elizabeth stepped back. “I think we’ve established, though, that music isn’t going to be your thing.”

“No, but the dancing is okay.” Jason still held her hand, and he raised it up, turning it over so that her palm was facing up. Her skin was soft, he thought, and he liked touching it. The feel of the smoothness against his tougher, rougher fingers.

“I should, um, change. And go to bed. I… have inventory  tomorrow,” Elizabeth managed. She leaned up, kissed him lightly, then tugged away, making her escape.

---

Songs: Send Me On My Way (Rusted Root), Roll To Me (Del Amitri), and I’ll Make Love To You (Boyz II Men). All songs charted on Billboard Hot 100 1995.

Written in 64 minutes.

---

Alan checked the hallway once more before sliding into the study, and closing the door firmly behind him. “Well? Have you gone through the papers?”

Edward scowled, tossed the petition aside. “I don’t know what that boy thinks he’s doing, going against the family like this, and you! We’re in this position because of you!”

Alan lifted his brows. Instead of rising to the bait and giving his father the fiery response he’d wanted, Alan said, “So it’s bad then, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine,” Edward growled. “It’s all supposition, and-and rumors! Justus thinks this will get him a leg up in the conservatorship—he wants that ridiculous child to be appointed instead of me!” He huffed. “Can you imagine?”

“Well—”

“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook! You told me to leave it alone! You said to give it time! Well, what we do we have? That girl got her hooks into him just like she did before his brains got scrambled—”

“Father—” Alan winced. “I don’t know if we can really speak about him the way. After all, you thought he’d be crawling back by now—”

“That was before I realized that girl is more conniving than I thought.” Edward stalked over to the window. The early morning sun rose over the rose garden outside, and Edward could almost see Lila working with the flowers, on her hands and knees, the way she’d been before she’d been relegated to the wheelchair. Her grandchildren at her side.

Jason, that bright, shining boy with so much purpose—

“How did she do it?” Edward muttered. “At every step, he’s rejected his old life. He refused all our efforts to show him who he used to be. He rebelled. He broke furniture. He destroyed his room. He shattered that damn window—but two weeks with that girl—less than two—and he’s agreeing to file paperwork to stop the divorce we worked so hard to arrange—”

“Father—”

“How did she do it?” Edward repeated, turning to his son, his eyes blazing. “How did she convince him to keep the one piece of his life he should have been eager to discard! She hid the truth from him for months—”

“Well, Father, it seems to me that we underestimated his hostility towards us.” Alan sighed when Edward scowled. “It’s possible he’s aware that we’re behind the lost jobs. Ruby and that woman who ran the bar — they were under orders not to tell him why he was being kicked out, but maybe he connected the dots on his own.”

“The doctors said—”

“The doctors said that they couldn’t measure the damage fully. All we know is that his long-term memories are gone. Retrograde amnesia combined with the damage to the frontal lobe—he’s impulsive. His filter is gone,” Alan continued. “He doesn’t have the same reasoning abilities he once had. Though he never completed the hospital tests,” he admitted with a rueful sigh. “So it’s possible we’ve been operating with a faulty thesis. Perhaps Jason is more capable than you or I gave him credit for—”

“What are you telling me—”

“If he underperformed on the tests in the hospital purposely,” Alan continued, “and it seems to me that’s likely, then we created the circumstances that made him vulnerable to Elizabeth’s story. After all, consider it from her perspective. What do you suppose she’s told him?”

Edward bristled. “That we barred her from her husband’s hospital room, kept her from the estate, stole her money, and are trying to steal her home.” He gripped the back of his desk chair. “I see your point.”

“We cut Jason’s access to money, and when he left, we made sure he couldn’t find a job or a place to live. Now, you and I know we were only trying to encourage him to come home. To be with his family. But Luke went to find him. And instead of being angry that Elizabeth kept the truth from him, she’s spun it so she’s the victim. Just like he is.”

“If we could only make him understand that we were doing what was best for him. What I know he’d want if he knew the truth—”

“Once she was pregnant, Father, there was no chance Jason would ever see Elizabeth for who she really is.” Alan paused. “Can Justus win on Wednesday? Have you talked to the lawyer?”

“He’s not sure,” Edward muttered. “He says it’s a crapshoot. No one’s ever done this before. If Jason walks in there, looking capable and of sound mind, a judge is going to have questions.”

“I think we need to talk about what our goals are. And adjust to this. If you’re still of the mind that you want Jason back in this house and away from Elizabeth, well, then we might need to make some concessions on Wednesday. We’ve lost the opportunity tell Jason what really happened. We have to work with what’s left and not alienate him further.”

—

Across town, Elizabeth was doing everything she could not to think about the upcoming court hearing. Or that she’d relegated Jason to the sofa while she laid in her bed half the night, thinking of him lying out here, in nothing more than a pair of gray sweatpants that were so much more revealing than she’d ever—

“I was thinking,” Elizabeth said, curling up in a corner of the sofa with a legal pad and pencil in her hand. “About what we talked about last night. About you not knowing what you like to do.”

Jason, at the end of the sofa, frowned at her, his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Well, you have time now, right? We’re both off today. And Luke said I had to stop working seven days a week,” she said with a curl of her lip. “We could make a list of stuff to try.”

“A list?” Jason repeated. He shifted on the sofa so that he faced her. “Like what?”

“Well, I don’t know. I was looking through some magazines, and if you’re okay, I was wondering if you want to start with some of the hobbies you had before,” she said. “I mean, maybe you might still like that stuff.”

“Uh, okay. I guess that makes sense.” Jason set the coffee on the table. “Like what?”

“Well, sports. I know you said you don’t watch television or movies because the pictures move, but there’s playing sports right? You played hockey in high school and college.” Elizabeth frowned, tapped the pencil against the pad. “But you don’t like people.”

“No, not so far, I don’t.”

“Yeah, so the other sports are out—well, what about running? And, um—” She bit her lip, stared at the legal pad. “You, um, work out, right? With weights.” She glanced up. “You didn’t…well, you didn’t before,” she muttered.

“Then how did you know?” Jason asked, drawing his brows together. “Did Emily tell you, or—”

She cleared her throat, then gestured at him. “You look, um, different. Like—in the biceps. And—” The abs. And chest. And it was how it had all gone stupid and insane a few days ago—she hadn’t noticed the physical changes, and then he’d been shirtless, and she’d just wanted to—

“Anyway. So that’s a yes?” she asked.

Jason tilted his head, peering at her, and she wondered if she was flushed all over. She certainly felt like everything was on fire, and damn it—her chest was probably red—

“That’s a yes,” he said slowly. “I had some physical therapy at the hospital, and the weight training because I’d been laying down for almost two weeks. And there was a gym at the house. When I got too frustrated or angry, which was all the time—I went there.” He stretched out an arm, flexed it—

“Don’t do that,” she hissed under her breath, clenching the pencil tightly.

Jason frowned. “What did you say?”

“I said you should talk to Sonny,” Elizabeth said. “He’s got a gym. They’ve got a boxing ring down there, too. He’d get you set up with access or whatever.”

“Yeah, okay. But that’s not what you said.”

She cleared her throat. “Uh, what about other physical stuff, like—”

“You said you wanted to go to art school.”

Elizabeth blinked. “What?”

“You were supposed to go to art school,” Jason said, “but I don’t see any art supplies around. Did you stop doing that or something?”

“I don’t…”  She slid her hand across the legal pad. “I had a studio. Where I used to live before I moved in here with you. I used to go there. I haven’t in a few months. I…I was going to give it up, but Sonny…he found out and prepaid the rent for the year. He said I’d change my mind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess…I mean, we’re talking about you like to do or might like to do. It’s fair to…ask me. I just haven’t felt inspired in a few months. That’s all.” She set the pad on the table. “I called Luke while you were in the shower. If you still wanted to go to dinner, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, I still want to go.” Jason caught her arm as she stood and tumbled her back to the sofa, only this time she was sitting almost on top of him. “You noticed I worked out.”

“I—” Elizabeth winced. “Yes. You just…look, we already went through this, okay? This is how it started, and we’re not starting it now.”

“Starting what?” But he was grinning when he asked it and she rolled her eyes.

“You’ve got a one-track mind,” she muttered.

“Am I not supposed to think about that when I look at you?” Jason wanted to know.

“When you—” She stared at him. “What?”

“You think about it when you look me.” He leaned in, brushed his lips just beneath her ear, and she sighed. “You get all red. From here—” He touched her forehead, then his finger stroked her cheek — “to here—” and then he traced the edge of her scoop-necked shirt. “To here.”

“You—” Elizabeth stopped. “I forgot what I was going to say,” she muttered.

“And I was trying to remember,” Jason continued, “if you were red all over, but I didn’t really spend a lot of time looking—”

She clapped both her hands over his mouth. “Oh, man, you’ve got to stop that,” she muttered. She jolted when the tip of his tongue darted out and licked the inside of her palm. “Oh, you—”

“It upsets you that I think you’re beautiful?” Jason asked, frowning. “Or that I think about you all the time—”

“You think about—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, and slowly slid away from him. “You think about sex all the time,” she corrected. “And I’m in front of you. I’m the only woman you’re around—”

“I lived at Jake’s for over a week. There were women there,” Jason told her, and she made a face. “There was this one blonde. She came back a few times, and I thought about it, but then I got kicked out. I could have gone back,” he said.

Elizabeth sighed, and now some of the flush was gone. Reality was setting in, reminding her why she’d put the brakes on in this area. “That’s my point. If you went back there tonight, and she was there, you could—”

“But I don’t want to now. I like you.”

“Okay. Sex is fun, okay? It is, and it was fun the other day, too. Not just fun, but good.” She bit her lip. “But it means something to me, that’s all. And I don’t sleep with just anyone. I don’t judge people who do, but it’s just not for me. I want to care about someone before we’re together that way.”

Jason considered this. “Why?”

“I—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I—women get a different message about sex growing up. You know, if you sleep with a lot of guys, you’re a slut. Like, there something wrong with you. And…maybe it’s because…well, it’s personal. I mean, you’re seeing me naked. And you’re—” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Well, I don’t know what it’s like for lesbians or whatever, but having sex with a guy means, you know, you’re inside me. Which sounds so crude,” she muttered, “but that’s what it boils down to. For me, anyway. I’m not speaking for all women. Just me. And I like you, Jason. You—the guy in front of me. But I want more than someone to share a bed with. And maybe I don’t know if you want more than that.”

Jason had been listening to her as she stumbled through the explanation, and he didn’t look mad or annoyed like another man might. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Elizabeth repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Okay. It makes sense, and it’s important to you, so it’s important to me. So I won’t talk about it until you want me to—”

“Oh, I didn’t—” Elizabeth made a face. “See now, I’m just a floozy, because I kind of like it when you say that stuff—except it makes me all—” She wiggled her shoulders. “I don’t know. I want you to be you, and say what you’re thinking.”

“So don’t stop?” Jason echoed, bewildered. “But you told me to—”

“Yeah, I know—” she sighed. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just want to make sure I understand. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t like when you cry,” he told her, and she smiled faintly.

“You weren’t hurting me earlier. It’s just…you start talking about it, and I start thinking about it, and then all my morals go out the window, and I start thinking about—never mind. Let’s talk about something. Anything else.”

“Okay. We could work on that list more,” he offered. “We only found one thing. Do you have more ideas?”

Written in 58 minutes.

---

Luke weaved through the crowded bar, looking for his quarry. It was a packed Saturday night — the kind he both loved and loathed all at once. They were packed to occupancy — and maybe a bit over, who was counting? The drinks were flowing, the music was pulsing, and the atmosphere was electric. His club was the most popular night club in Port Charles — which made it impossible to find anyone you were looking for.

He finally reached the back booths, and scowled at his supposed partner, making calf eyes with a sexy brunette. “Hey, Corinthos. You gonna earn your keep or what?”

Sonny glanced away from the woman, scowled. “What? I’m the silent partner—”

“Sorry, honey, I need to borrow the Don Corleone for a minute.” Luke grabbed Sonny’s arm and hauled him to his feet. Sonny clenched his jaw, then turned back to the booth, straightening his jacket.

“Brenda, will you excuse me? Clearly Luke has business that won’t wait.”

“Well, I will. But not all night.”

“If she walks out of here,” Sonny muttered as he followed Luke through the crowd, “I’ll burn down your house.”

“Try it. I think Laura still has the shot gun under the sofa.” He stopped Sonny, gestured to the bar which was now in their view. “What did you do?” Luke gestured, and Sonny followed his gaze.

Elizabeth and Jason were joined by a third bartender on Saturdays — Jason kept to the straight draught orders, Elizabeth made the cocktails, and the third worked evenly on both. But it wasn’t the third bartender Luke was pointing at. Jason and Elizabeth were trading smiles and looks — well anyone could see what was happening, Sonny thought.

“”What makes you think it was my doing?”

“Because—” Luke whacked his arm. “It was your idea to bring him here—”

“No, it was your idea to hire him. My idea to have him live upstairs. I, uh—” Sonny scratched the side of his nose. “I do know that things have progressed between them. Wasn’t that the plan?”

“No! The plan was for her to look at him, see he’s not Prince Charming anymore, and move on with her life. What was your plan?”

“I didn’t really have one, to be honest. I just figured he needed a place to stay.”

“And what do you mean it’s progressed? If that boy hurts her again—”

“He didn’t hurt her the first time. On purpose,” Sonny added.

“Getting into a drunk’s car when you got a wife at home already grieving one half her family ain’t exactly making her happy, either.”

“Luke—”

“I don’t like this,” Luke decided. “Not one bit.”

“You’re going to have to get over it. Elizabeth isn’t the little girl following your son around anymore. She’s got a right to make her own choices.” Sonny hesitated. “And her own mistakes if it comes to that.”

“If this blows up, I’m gonna hold you responsible.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t take it personally if I’m not exactly scared of you. Now, let me get back to my plans for Saturday. You worry about yours.”

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” Luke muttered as Sonny melted back into the crowd.

—

The family was already sitting down to dinner, the Quartermaine butler had tried to tell Justus when he arrived, the legal documents in his hand. “If you want to wait in the parlor,” Reginald began, but Justus shook his head.

“No worries, Reggie. I know how to find my way to the dining room. I’ll show myself.” Justus brushed him off and started down the hallway, eager to make his announcement and get a sense of who knew what and when.

When he appeared in the doorway, Edward frowned from the other end of the table. “Justus? What’s the meaning of this?”

At the other end of the table, closer to the door, Lila wheeled her chair back slightly. “Justus, what a lovely surprise. I can have Alice lay another setting.”

“No, don’t go to the trouble, Lila.” Justus walked down the length of the table, most of the chairs empty. Emily was in California, AJ was still drying out in a rehab center, and Jason’s chair had been empty for a long time. Ned and Lois were up for Saturday dinner, and Ned’s eyes glimmered with a bit of excitement.

Let the games begin.

“I wanted to deliver the papers in person.” Justus stopped by his grandfather’s seat. On either side of Edward sat Alan and Monica. “I’ll be filing an appearance on Monday in family and probate court.”

Alan half-rose out of his seat, his eyes bulging. “What? What? What is this?”

“Family court?” Monica echoed.

“Probate?” Lois repeated. Ned set aside his napkin.

“You can’t tell me you’re talking that girl’s case!” Edward thundered, rising from his chair. His face was florid with fury. “Against your own?”

“You’ve been my own for two years, Edward, but no, I’m not representing Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth? What’s happening?” Lila asked. “Is she all right?”

“No. She’s not.” Justus set the legal papers down. “I’m filing on behalf of Jason.”

“You can’t—” Edward closed his mouth, and Justus grinned. Checkmate, old man.

“I’m filing an injunction. It’ll be interesting for you to explain to the judge why you’re pushing a divorce that neither husband nor wife seem to want.” Justus tipped his head. “You want to give me a preview of that defense?”

“What is he talking about?” Monica demanded. “Edward, what is happening?”

“What divorce?” Lois leaned forward. “What’s happening?”

But Lila just looked down the table at her husband. “Oh, Edward.” The disappointment rang clearly though the words were softly spoken. “What have you done?”

“And in probate court, I’m petitioning to be named as Jason’s attorney. You know, the one he was supposed to be assigned before the judge approved a conservatorship.”

“Conservator—” Monica stared at her father-in-law before turning her attention to her husband. “Alan.”

“Monica, it’s—” Alan pressed his lips together, then looked at Justus. “You don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I understand that Alan was appointed Jason’s power of attorney while Jason in the coma, and somehow kept control after Jason was awake. And Edward now has the right to enter into contracts.” Justus looked back at his grandfather. “Or break them. He controls Jason’s finances. Did you even bother to look at their checking account, Edward? To see whose money you took when you closed it?”

“Every penny that girl had belonged my grandson—”

“Not a single penny was his,” Justus said, and Edward stared at him, open-mouthed. “His entire trust fund allowance went to medical school payments and into savings. For their daughter. You called her a gold digger, old man. Well, that gold digger was supporting Jason.  Until you stole the rest of her money when you closed her checking account.”

“You closed—” Lila’s face was pale. “Edward.”

“I had to stop her before she drained the entire thing.” Edward lifted his chin. “Justus doesn’t understand. He hasn’t looked at the entire bank record—”

“Conservatorship,” Lois mouthed, still stunned. “Ned, did you know about this?”

“Not until Justus told me a few weeks ago, but it explains a few things.” Ned tossed his napkin on the table. “You’ve gone too far this time, Grandfather.”

“I’ve done what was necessary—”

“I’ll let y’all talk amongst yourself,” Justus said.

“You stay right there, young man, and explain yourself! Justus, come back here!” Edward bellowed, but Justus was already on his way out. He saluted Reginald on his way out the front door.

Mission accomplished.

—

“The stars look closer, don’t they?” Elizabeth murmured, folding her arms along the guard rail, looking up at the sky sprawled out over Vista Point. Overlooking the lake, the sky seemed to go on forever, until it met the horizon of the pitch black water.

“I guess. I never thought about it much.” Jason lifted his gaze to consider the question.

“It’s hard to see the stars from downtown,” Elizabeth continued. “There’s so much light from the clubs and the buildings. But it’s nice up here.”

“Yeah?” Jason leaned against the guard rail. “I wasn’t sure where to go. I mean, it’s…we’re dating right?” His pulse skittered as he said it—the first time either of them had referred to their new agreement. They’d simply gone to bed the night before — he’d stayed on the sofa, and she’d gone to the bedroom. He’d wondered if maybe she’d change her mind, or if he’d wake up and think better of it.

“Yeah, I guess we are.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. How are you supposed to date someone you live with?”

“Did we—” Jason shook his head. No. He didn’t want to ask what they did before. This was now. It was supposed to be new. “I don’t know. What do people do when they don’t live together?”

Elizabeth wandered down to the next level, sat on the bench, and followed. “When I was in high school, and dating Lucky, he used to pick me up and we’d go to the movies.” She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t like movies, though, do you?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. They’re—”

“Are they like pictures? You can’t…you have trouble with them, don’t you?”

Jason didn’t want to talk about the damage, didn’t want to talk about this one piece of evidence that he wasn’t completely normal. People went to movies, and they watched television. They looked at photos. They didn’t have brains that couldn’t process them.

But she’d asked, and he wanted to be honest. “The doctors said it’s a kind of aphasia,” he said after a long moment. “It’s not…typical. I don’t see two-dimensional images the same way everyone else does. The letters sometimes swim—”

“Like the bottles with the swirly letters,” Elizabeth said. “I noticed that the first time we worked together.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly. He clasped his hands between his knees, stared down at them. “I can see things if I try. Photos are easier. But movies and television—they move. And I can’t really focus on them.”

“I’m sorry. This—this isn’t something you like to talk about, is it?”

“No. But you should know. It’s how I’m different now. They wanted me to go back to medical school,” Jason said suddenly. “Alan put this textbook in front of me, and it all swirled so much. He told me to keep trying — the doctors said it would get better if I just kept trying—” He shook his head. “I threw the book. It shattered a window.” They’d stopped talking about medical school, and talks of sending him away had started.

“I’m sorry. That he did that,” Elizabeth added when he looked at her. “If the doctors think it’ll improve, that’s great. But it should be in your time. Not on someone else’s. Alan’s a doctor, he should know better.” She tucked on leg beneath her as she turned to face him. “What do you like to do? I mean, other than bartend and go on a ride.”

“I don’t…” Jason squinted, considered the question. “I don’t know. The two weeks I’ve been at Luke’s are the longest I’ve been anywhere since the Quartermaines. I didn’t have time to find out.” And at the Quartermaines they’d tried to get him to do what he’d done before. “What do you like to do?”

“Oh. Well, it’s been a long time since I really thought about it. I, um, had to work a lot the last few months, so there wasn’t time. And then you know, all the other stuff.” She cleared her throat. “I paint. And draw. Watercolors and oils. I haven’t done either in a while, but I miss it. And I used to scrapbook. I’d take tickets and pamphlets and all kinds of important things and put them in a book,” she explained. “With photos and then I’d decorate them. To create a story.” Her smile was faint. “I haven’t really felt like doing that in a while, though.”

“I think I could like to read. If the print is really clear,” Jason added. “Do you like to?”

“Reminds me too much of school.” She wrinkled her nose. “We really don’t have anything in common, do we?”

“We have the bike.” Jason sat up, not liking where she was going with that. “And you like to talk. I can listen.”

“I like to talk?” Elizabeth repeated. “How can you tell that?”

“You talk to the customers. And you like it.” She laughed when he made a face. “You ask them questions and you care about their answers. Even if it’s just a quick conversation.”

“People are interesting, I guess. They’ll tell their bartender pretty much anything. Their divorces, affairs, break ups, fights—” She bit her lip. “But you don’t like to talk.”

“I like talking to you,” Jason said. “Not to strangers. Or people looking for me to be someone else,” he said, more to himself. “You don’t do that. I don’t know why. Even Emily still looks at me like I’ll turn into him at any point.”

“Him?” Elizabeth echoed.

“The perfect brother. It helps sometimes,” Jason said slowly, “to think of him as a separate person. Someone who existed before me. I don’t feel as guilty when people don’t see him in me.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought it would be,” Elizabeth said finally. “I asked you to stay away because it was awful at first, but then the more time I spent with you—” She tipped her head, considering. “You’re different. You carry yourself differently. In the shoulders. I don’t know if that make sense. And your hair—” She reached out, her fingers brushing the short spikes, growing out from the buzzcut he’d had in the hospital. “It really helps to separate you.”

“I saw pictures of it longer. I think I’d hate it.” He nodded. “This is okay, though. For a date, right? People talk on dates.”

“Yeah. They do. And I like talking to you.” She glanced at the watch, the clock face on the inside of her wrist. “But we’d better get home. It’s Easter tomorrow, and I have to go to Luke’s for dinner. I can get you an invite, if you’re interested.”

Jason stood, held out a hand to pull her up. “I’ll go if you want. But I only know Luke.”

“Luke’s wife, Laura, is really nice. And they’ve got a daughter. Lulu. Lucky, the guy I dated, he won’t be there if that would be awkward.”

“Why would it be awkward?” Jason wanted to know. They made their way back to the parking lot where he’d parked the bike.

“Oh. Well, sometimes it’s weird to be around your…to be around ex-boyfriends. For the new…not that you’re my new boyfriend—”

“But why would that be weird?” Jason pressed.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d think I still have feelings for him. Or he’d have feelings for me. And seeing each other would bring it back.”

“If it did, then you should be with him,” Jason said. He handed her the helmet. She held it against her chest. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No.”

“Then why would I care? His feelings don’t matter. You don’t want him, so that’s what does.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s logical.” She frowned. “He won’t be there, though. Do you want to come?”

“If you want me to.”

“I’ll ask Luke.” Elizabeth hesitated, watched him swing his leg over the bike. “Um, listen. About this dating thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I know we’ve already slept together. And that was great,” she added. “And maybe it’s stupid because of that, or because we’re supposed to go to court later this week and tell the judge we’re married and we want to stay that way—”

“That’s for the Quartermaines,” Jason cut in. “This is for us. We promised.”

She smiled. “Right. “But maybe we could…I don’t know, hold off. On sleeping together again. I wouldn’t before the third date, but you’re living with me, and you were…well, it was your fault,” she muttered, ducking her head.

“I thought we established it was yours, too,” he said. He stroked her shoulder, the way he had the other morning. Though she wore a jacket and a shirt beneath it, she could feel it down to her skin.

“Right. Either way. That was — a momentary impulse and urges, and all that. I just…I don’t want this to be about sex.” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, studied him. “Is that okay?”

“Can it be about sex eventually?” he asked a little hopefully, and she couldn’t fight the smile. “Is it wrong to have it sooner? I don’t understand. You said it was good—”

“It was. And there’s nothing wrong. But it…I don’t want it to be all there is.” She cleared her throat. “You know, I kind of want more. Like this. I like this. Just  talking to you. I’d like to do that a few more times.”

“We can do whatever you want,” Jason said. “Can I still kiss you?”

“Oh. Well, yeah—” Her words were cut off by his mouth, and she almost fell into his lap. Her hands curled around his neck, sinking into the way his lips felt against hers, the stroking of his tongue—

When he pulled back, she felt almost a bit dizzy, and had to hold on to the handle of the bike to steady herself. “Okay. Good. Glad we had this talk.”

He grinned at her. “Me, too.”

Written in 58 minutes.

---

It was the best day he’d had since waking up in the hospital, and it probably wasn’t even noon yet.

Jason stretched out on his back, one arm behind his head, still trying to catch his breath, and all at the same time, wondering how he could do it all over again. People should wake up every morning like this, he thought. With a gorgeous woman who kissed them like they were starving, and then dragged them into the bedroom—

Jason turned his head, his cheek flat against the pillow to find Elizabeth laying on her back, too, her hair a tangled cloud around her head, a fist pressed against her heart, and her chest rising and falling rapidly which really was a great visual, he thought, watching it—

“That was so stupid,” Elizabeth managed, her voice a bit thick. “Oh my God, so unbelievably stupid.”

Jason frowned, wondering if he’d missed something. She sounded upset. Or maybe mad. What had he done wrong? Maybe it had been too fast, he thought. He didn’t have any personal experience—none that he could remember, he reminded himself. But he had knowledge in his head. His memories were gone, but he knew how bodies worked. And what parts went where—

And he thought he knew what sounds people made when they were happy, and she’d made all the right ones—

Elizabeth slid out of the bed, darted towards a chair where she snatched up a pink robe and whipped it around herself, tucking away all the bits he’d been enjoying. Jason sighed and sat up, reaching for the top sheet that had been kicked towards the end of the bed. He didn’t care about nudity, but judging from the way she was holding the robe closed, she probably didn’t want to have whatever conversation came next while he was naked.

He really didn’t understand people.

“What did I do wrong?” Jason asked. He hitched the sheet around his wast and slid out of bed, not wanting to be sitting when she was on her feet. “Did I not do it right?”

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a bright cherry red, which traveled down to the small bit of chest still visible where her robe opened. “What?”

“I don’t remember having sex,” Jason said, patiently. If it was just as simple as missing a step or maybe he needed to do something extra to make sure she’d finished, too, well, he was willing to learn. “But I remember what I’ve read. I guess I had a lot of sex education. Or whatever college you go to before medical school.”

Her mouth parted slightly. “What?”

He frowned. He thought he’d asked the right question, but apparently not. “You’re not happy. So I missed a step. Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it.”

“I—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, and then, the words sounding like she was being strangled, “You didn’t miss any steps.”

“Oh. So then why aren’t you happy?”

Elizabeth let out a small moan, then collapsed onto the chair behind her. “I think I’m having a stroke. Okay. Okay. I’m an adult.” She cleared her throat, looked at him. “Listen, um, I was, uh, happy. There.” She gestured at the bed, with the pillows still askew, the comforter half hanging off the foot of the bed, and sheets mussed. “That—literally—that was fine. Great. Good.”

He felt vaguely insulted and didn’t really understand why. “Just great?”

“This is the Twilight Zone.” She dragged one hand through her hair. “The best sex I’d had in almost a year. That part is not the problem.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jason kicked the sheet away, started to look around for his briefs, figuring they’d be more comfortable than the bulky sheet wrapped around his waist. “You said it was stupid.”

“Sleeping together was stupid,” Elizabeth bit out. “It complicates everything! Okay? We had an agreement. You’d sleep on the sofa, and then I’d get you out of this conservatorship—”

“We had a deal,” Jason agreed. “And we’d see what happened. Also, you kissed me. And I asked if you were sure.” He frowned, remembering that she hadn’t really said yes to that question, but then he brushed it aside. “Why can’t it be that simple? I wanted you, you wanted me. So we had each other.”

“God, I must be out of my mind, because that made sense and it’s because I haven’t had sex since July, isn’t it? That has to be it. My brain is warped.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Okay. Yes, in some sense, you’re right. It was that simple. We acted on our basic urges. It’s just—” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It can’t happen again, that’s all. I think it just complicates everything—”

“I don’t understand. We said we’d see what happened,” Jason repeated. “This happened. Why can’t this just be part of the deal now. You had a good time. So did I—”

“Because—” Elizabeth closed her mouth. “I don’t know how to put it into words. For you, Jason, that was fun. And uncomplicated. Because while you know the legal label that I have to you, it’s not a real one. I’m just Elizabeth to you.”

He exhaled. “And it’s still real to you.” This he understood. The word wife didn’t mean anything to him, not real. Only that it was the relationship she  had to him. But to her— “So what, you were sleeping with your husband? Like I was still the same—”

“You’re not the same.” She rubbed her lips with the tip of her index finger. “You’re not. The flashes are there, of course they are. But you’re definitely blunter than you were before. I can’t imagine you asking me if you did it right in that tone. And there’s other things — I mean—” Elizabeth paused, clearly searching for the right words. “No. I wasn’t having sex with my husband. And maybe that’s messing me up to. Because you’re him. Physically. That’s his body. But it’s his mind anymore. And it’s only been three months. It’s like he died, and now it’s been three months—” She shook her head. “This is what I mean. I bring so much baggage, you know. I’m just dragging suitcases of it behind me, and you don’t deserve any of that. You should have uncomplicated sex if that’s what you want. I just can’t give it to you.”

Jason considered all of that, and thought she had a point. It must be a strange thing to look at him, to see someone you knew and loved, and know that they didn’t know you anymore. “So you want me to go have sex with someone else?” he asked warily.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “No. No. But you could. And you should. Go to Jake’s. I promise you you’ll have any girl you—” She looked away and he cocked his head, trying to understand her. “I just—it would be really easy for me to fall in love with you. You. Who you are right now. Because so much of you is already someone I love. But you don’t love me, Jason. And there’s no guarantee you ever will.”

He didn’t have a response to that. He didn’t really understand love — he knew the definition, and he understood it as a concept. But what it felt like, what it was in reality—how did you know?

Elizabeth rose. “I’m going to take a shower. The coffee is probably ready by now.”

—

The air was tense between them when she got out of the shower, so Jason took one of his own and left the apartment as quickly as he could, walking a few blocks towards Luke’s. He could see Elizabeth’s point, sort of. And he’d probably be making everything easier if he did just go pick up someone at Jake’s. He’d lived at the bar for a week, and he’d seen women looking at him. He’d just been trying to keep his head above water then, and not really thinking about of that.

But now he was thinking about that. It was like an entire part of his brain had woken up, but it didn’t want some random blonde making eyes at him from the jukebox at a bar. He wanted Elizabeth with her painted red lips, sad eyes and soft hair. But she didn’t want him. Or more correctly, she didn’t want to want him.

And there was that problem that Jason couldn’t really know if she wanted him or the man she’d been married to. Though he didn’t get the sense from her that she was looking for someone else when they were together. He knew what that was like — having conversations early on with the parents—the way they’d constantly searched his eyes as if somehow they’d be able to find their son in them. Or the way the grandfather had constantly bellowed out about plans Jason had always had before—

No, Jason hadn’t been interested in living any piece of the life he’d had before. Until he’d met Elizabeth, and he’d looked at the photograph she’d given him. He stopped suddenly, standing on a pier by the water, and dug out his wallet. He carried the photo around because it reminded him you could see something real in photos and that meant they were worth the effort to figure them out.

He didn’t need any effort to figure this one out anymore. He knew the lines of Elizabeth’s face now. They were familiar. And he’d looked at Cady a hundred times since that first day. He wanted to remember what it was like to be a father, and if the little time he’d spent with Elizabeth was anything like what it had been to be a husband, well, maybe he’d be okay with that.

Luke’s was still closed for the day — but Jason found Sonny sitting at one of the tables on the floor, going through some paperwork. He glanced up when he heard Jason. “Hey. You’re early. Elizabeth didn’t come with you, did she? She worked too late last night.”

“No. No. It’s just me.” Jason pulled out the chair across from him, nodded at the papers. “Books for the club.”

“Taxes coming up,” Sonny said with a grimace. “I have an accountant, but I double check his work. I don’t trust anyone when it comes to my money.” He set the pencil aside. “Luke told me you were asking about Quartermaines. About making them just a little bit miserable.”

“I don’t like what they did to Elizabeth. So, yeah, I’d like to see them hurt. Alan and Edward,” Jason clarified. “The rest—I don’t have a problem. At least I don’t think so.”

“Well, the best way to get at them is always through ELQ, so I could make some calls. Maybe see if some shares are up for grabs. But it would depend on what you want to happen.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want them to keep getting away with all of this,” he muttered. “Luke said the press was bad. You made it go away. How?”

“I have a few friends in the right places.” Sonny tipped his head. “But shutting them down in court might be worth it on its own. At least for now. And when you have control of your life back, there’s a lot of things we can do. How’s that going?”

“I don’t know yet. Justus is filing something in court.”

“Yeah, I heard about this plan. You and Elizabeth presenting a united front to get the judge to give her power.” Sonny leaned back. “I worry that maybe it’s complicating things for her. She worked hard to get a little bit of normal back in her life. She wasn’t all the way back, but you coming back around, well, I hope when you’re ready for the divorce, you make it quick and painless.”

Jason opened his mouth, then hesitated. “How do you know when you’re ready? I mean, divorce. How would I know?”

Sonny drew his brows together. “I figured when you got this conservator thing handled, Elizabeth would sign the papers. You don’t remember being Jason Quartermaine, so what’s the point?”

“But I like her,” Jason said, stubbornly, with a lick of anger. Why did everyone want to make decisions for him? “Maybe I don’t want a divorce.”

“You like her,” Sonny repeated. “What does that mean? I like my shoes—” He held out a leg. “Real Italian leather—”

“We had sex,” Jason said bluntly, and Sonny stared at him, his foot dropping down to the floor. “Today. I mean I like her. And I wanted to do it again, but she thinks it’s a bad idea. Because I don’t love her. But she doesn’t love me either. Not who I am today. She loves who I was. So we don’t love each other.”

“I can’t say I was expecting the conversation to go this way,” Sonny said slowly. He stroked his chin. “She loves the shadow of you,” he said. “But pieces of you are the same. So she might not love all of who you are yet but she still loves those pieces. That’s more than you can say. So maybe she’s got a point.”

“But people don’t fall in love at the same time. And how can you do that if you don’t try to? If we just ignore each other, then it’ll never happen.” Jason shook his head. “So what? Maybe I’ll love her next week.”

Sonny closed the ledger in front of him, rubbed the back of his neck with a light chuckle. “Oh, man. Don’t ever tell a woman that. Please.”

“Why? It’s true—”

“It sounds like you just want to have sex with her,” Sonny said, and Jason closed his mouth. “And that you’d say whatever you need to so she’ll sleep with you.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.” Jason considered this advice, but he still thought his idea was a good one. “But it’s true. I could fall in love with her by next week. Maybe I love her now, and I don’t know. Is there a list or something I should be looking at? Because how do you know?”

“Well, that’s not easy to answer. Because the truth is, you know it’s love when you feel it.” Sonny lifted on shoulder in a careless half-shrug. “That probably doesn’t help very much, does it?”

“I’ll know it when I feel it,” Jason repeated. “No, it doesn’t help, but if it’s true, then it’ll make sense when it happens. So what am I supposed to do? I told her that we’d see what happened, and then what happened was we had sex. Why isn’t that a good thing?”

“Because sex is easy,” Sonny said bluntly. “It doesn’t take a lot of intelligence to get a woman into bed or even a lot of skill to make it decent—”

“She said it was the best she’d had in a year.”

“I did not need to know that.” Sonny dragged a hand over his eyes. “Okay. Look, bottom line, Jason. She’s just scared of being hurt. She’s spent the last six months at rock bottom. And she’s not in a hurry to go back. Maybe you can understand that.”

“But I made her happy. I could do that again—”

“And she could invest in a vibrator that would do the same task.” Sonny leaned forward. “If you want a chance at something real, at more than just sex, then you gotta make her see tha. But if sex is all you want, well, there’s some bars you can try.”

“She said that, too,” Jason muttered. He considered all of this, and nodded. “Okay. Okay. But maybe we could date. I mean, she says I’m not her husband even though the law says I am. So if I’m not her husband, then we could date, right?”

“I—” Sonny lifted his brows. “Huh. Yeah. That’s actually something that might work. Try that.”

—

Jason thought about it the rest of the day — as the bar opened for customers, and Elizabeth showed up for the closing shift, from six to two. She kept her distance, and he let her do that. Now that he understood a little better what she was thinking, Jason didn’t want to make her feel comfortable. They could wait.

The bar closed at two, but it wasn’t until almost three before the place had emptied and they’d been able to shut it down completely.

“I could drive,” Jason offered as Elizabeth slid the strap of her purse and tugged it over her head to sit crossed on her chest. ”

She stifled a yawn, and tossed him the keys. “Too tired to argue. I don’t know why I decided to work two closing shifts in a row. Remind me to be nicer to myself in the next schedule.” She let Jason steer her out the back door towards the parking lot and her car.

Jason settled her into the passenger side, then got into the driver’s side. “I thought about what you said earlier.” He switched on the engine, but didn’t leave the parking lot.

Elizabeth frowned, turned to look at him. “This morning?”

“Yeah. I don’t just want sex. Not with you. If that’s what you were thinking. I thought back to how I said things, and maybe it sounded like that.”

“It’s okay—”

“No. It’s not. I don’t want to hurt you. So I have to think about what I say. That’s been hard since I woke up,” Jason admitted. “Sometimes I can do it, and then other times, I just say what I’m thinking, and it comes out wrong. Or too blunt. So I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t really at my best either. It’s been a long time since I did anything that impulsive, and I just—” Her smile was faint. “I reacted badly. But I started it, Jason, and I didn’t stop it. So you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Good. That’s fixed. We should date.”

Elizabeth was quiet long enough that he worried she’d fallen asleep. “Date?” she repeated.

“Yes. That’s how people get to know each other, right? You didn’t love me the first day you met me, did you?”

“Well, I was five, so probably not. But no, I didn’t love you on our first date. That came later.” He met her gaze, and saw that she was considering it. “We should date?”

“Yes. We should get to know each other. More. We already know the sex is good, but you need to know me now. And maybe you won’t love me.”

“Maybe you won’t love me,” she said softly. “Is this what you want?”

“Only if you want it. This is separate from the rest of it.” Jason swallowed hard. “It’s separate from the Quartermaines and all of that. I want something that’s not about them or what they’re trying to do.”

“Me, too. Okay. Let’s date, then.” She reached across the space between the seats, touched his cheek. “And we’ll keep it ours. Just for us.”

“Yeah.” Feeling almost as light and as good as he had that morning, Jason nodded. “Just for us.”

Written in 55 minutes. This part is rated R

---

Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains covering her bedroom window, making it difficult for Elizabeth to just roll over and bury her face in the pillows. Especially when she was rolling towards the right side of the bed — empty as it had been for three months.

Everything about yesterday felt like a tremendous mistake now, she thought. From going into the bar early, staying until closing—and that ridiculous meeting with Justus. She’d agreed to help Jason get out of the mess the Quartermaines had placed him in, and even when he’d tried to back out, she’d insisted.

And now the man wearing her husband’s face was sleeping on the sofa in the next room. He looked like Jason, he sounded like Jason, he was Jason. But he wasn’t her husband.

Elizabeth rolled onto her back, stared at the popcorn-textured ceiling, considering the wreckage of her life. What would have happened if she’d managed to go to New York? To attend a real art program? What would her world look like?

Would she be a mother at twenty-three, and a functional widow and grieving mother by twenty-four? Would Jason have returned to Stanford for medical school and still be the boy she’d known all her life?

Where exactly had her life zigged so badly that it had turned out like this?

“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself now,” Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely audible, drowned out by the street sounds below. “We’re done with that. We have to be.”

She twisted her head, looked at the clock. Just before nine, so a solid six hours of sleep. That wasn’t so bad, she thought. She slid out of bed, with only one thought in her head.

She needed coffee.

Elizabeth gently opened the door, peering through the crack to find that Jason was where she’d left him last night — well, mostly, she thought. He’d stretched out on the sofa, his legs hanging off the end, and his face awkwardly squished into the pillow she’d given him. He had a blanket tossed over him, but it didn’t reach higher than mid-chest which was bare. He wore nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants visible where the blanket came to an end mid-calf.

She bit her lip. If she was really quiet she could put on a pot coffee, sneak into the shower and be fully dressed before Jason even woke up.

She left her feet in just a pair of white socks, hoping it would soften any footsteps as she carefully picked her way past the sofa to the kitchen behind it. Just when she thought she’d made it—she’d just scooped the coffee into the filter—she heard a sound from the sofa.

Damn it, Elizabeth thought, with a wrinkle of her nose. Jason was awake, his top half rising from the sofa first as he sat up, looking around blearily, rubbing his chest. He focused on her, squinting slightly, as if he was trying to understand his surroundings. Then his eyes cleared and he stood.

“Hey. Uh, good morning,” he said, bunching blanket in his hand, then tossing it where he’d found it—over the back of the sofa.

“Good morning,” Elizabeth mumbled, turning back to the coffee. She snatched the carafe from the machine and went to the sink to fill it. “The bathroom is over there and there’ll be coffee soon.”

“Okay.”

She made the mistake of turning to see where he was, jolting when she realized he was in the kitchen now, his short hair mussed from sleep, the expanse of his bare chest only a few feet away—he’d been exercising, Elizabeth thought stupidly. His abdomen was more defined than she’d remembered—

“You okay?”

Elizabeth blinked, then realized the carafe had been overfilled for some time, the water spilling over the edges. Her cheeks heated, and she twisted off the faucet, dumping the extra water. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Not enough sleep.”

She headed back to the coffee pot, but it was on the counter behind Jason and that meant she had to be near him—and all that skin, which wasn’t fair, she thought bitterly. She’d been so damn well up until now, not thinking about that side of her life that had been missing long before the rest of it had been destroyed.

“Um, I have to, um—” Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the carafe handle, wondering if flames were actually visible on her cheeks. Or anywhere else. She was probably beet red, she thought viciously. And it was his fault. “Can you put on a shirt?” she snapped out, nudging him aside to set the carafe on the hot plate.

“What?” Jason blinked, stepping aside. “What?”

“You—” She gestured at him with both hands. “Don’t be stupid. Just look at you! Can you just—” She waved. “Cover up.”

Jason’s eyes widened and he glanced down at his chest, then back at her. “This bothers you?”

“Bothers,” she muttered. “Does it bother me?” Yes. But not the way he meant it. Feeling foolish, no mortified beyond the speaking of it. “Yes. Yes. It bothers me. I prefer people to be dressed. All the way—”

“You do?” His brows lifted, and he looked at her, slowing dragging his gaze from head to toe. Which made her feel violent. And tingly. All over. Bastard.

“What,” she began, gritting the words out through clenched teeth, “is that supposed to mean?”

“That.” He reached out, and slid one finger under the thin strap of her black tank top, one of her oldest shirts. The straps were stretched from overuse, and constantly slid down her shoulder. Jason adjusted the strap so that it rested correctly on her shoulder, but he didn’t remove his finger, leaving it on her skin.

Her eyes met his, and her throat tightened. “That’s not the same thing,” Elizabeth managed.

“When the strap slides like that—” Jason removed his finger, and it immediately fell out of place again. “The whole thing dips down.”

“It—” Elizabeth dropped her gaze now, looking and realizing the curve of her breast was visible. “I—”

“I’m not complaining,” he cut in, his voice low. Almost a bit rough. She licked her lips, raised her eyes to him again. “Are you?”

“That,” she said carefully, “is not the point.”

He was closer now—when had that happened, she thought, almost dizzily. His hand was at her shoulder again, two fingers hooked on the strap of her tank. Brushing against her skin. Everything was brighter and she couldn’t think anymore. It had been so long, she thought, and he was so damn beautiful, and in her kitchen.

“What is the point?” Jason asked, the words barely audible, not much more than a breath escaping his lips. His mouth. She missed that mouth. And it was attached to such a perfect body, though the thought almost felt unfaithful, she thought it with a jolt that nearly broke through the madness.

Nearly.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, his fingers sliding along the length of the strap, almost stroking her shoulder.

He was going to have to stop touching her, Elizabeth decided, and she’d tell him that right now. Any minute now.

Or, she could do something even stupider.

Which was, naturally, the choice she made.

She leapt at him, dragging his mouth down to hers, and before she had a chance to feel embarrassed, he’d dragged her against him, his hands digging into her hips, diving into her mouth like a man deprived too long of water.

“This is a mistake,” she panted when he broke from the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck to her collarbone. Instead of responding to that, Jason lifted then turned them so that she was sitting on the countertop, her legs around his waist as he leaned in, kissing her again. His hands were every all at once, leaving fire and heat in their wake, beneath her tank top—

“Wait, wait—” Her chest heaving, Elizabeth found the energy to push him back, their labored breathing the only sound in the room for a long moment as they stared each other, stunned.

The moment had come out of nowhere, she thought, and it was such a stupid idea to let it continue. Not to stop it in its tracks. There was too much at stake, too much history, too much that Jason was dealing with, that she was dealing with—it would be an absolute mistake to do this right now. The worst decision.

But she’d been trying to do the right thing for months. For years. As she’d sat quietly, hoping that this time his family would accept her. Leave her alone. She’d never pushed, never argued. Never demanded respect. She’d stayed away when they’d made her. She’d gone to court instead of going to straight to him after the accident.

At every step Elizabeth had done the right thing, and she’d ended up alone. Miserable.

Jason licked his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” she asked before he’d even finished his words. “Sorry? Would you take it back?”

“No.” Jason shook his head slowly. “No. I’m not sorry. And you kissed me.”

“I did.” And maybe later, common sense would settle in, but not right now. Elizabeth slid to the edge of the counter, curled her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her again, losing herself in something that felt good for the first time in a long time.

This time when his fingers slid under the tank, she let his hands finish the journey, dragging it over her head and tossing it somewhere, their bare skin pressed against each other. Jason lifted her from the counter, almost effortlessly holding her against him, her legs locked around his waist.

“Bedroom,” she managed, scraping her nails against the hair at the nape of his neck, nipping at his earlobe. “Now—”

They stumbled towards the bedroom on the other side of the small apartment, stumbling first into the fridge, then the sofa before finally crashing through the door. Jason dropped her on the bed, and she bounced lightly for just a second, crawling backwards so he could come on top of her, their hands grabbing for his sweatpants, her shorts—

“Wait, wait, wait—” Elizabeth’s hand wildly flung around, looking for the nightstand. “Wait—” She dug through it, wincing. “Check the other side.”

Jason rolled away for a moment, yanking open the drawer, finding the foil packets she’d been looking for. He ripped one open with the corner of his mouth, then discarded the package, hesitating for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Elizabeth admitted, “but that’s not going to stop me. You?”

“Not a chance in hell.” Jason kissed her again, and she stopped thinking altogether.

Written in 66 minutes.

---

Elizabeth felt a thousand years older by the time she returned to the table where Justus was sitting, a few documents strewn around him. Luke was scowling off to the side, and Jason trailed behind her.

“I’m sorry for running out like that,” she said, standing stiffly in front of the table, her arms crossed. “I don’t want this to be about me. It’s not. What happened — it’s over. It was almost six months ago.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t realize how much the press had bothered you.” Justus rose to his feet, buttoned his suit jacket. “I just thought because you’d been fighting so hard in family court, you’d want to take the most efficient way to ending this—”

“If I’d wanted an efficient end to any of this, I would have taken their first offer and ran,” Elizabeth said. “Family court records are sealed. And so are the records in probate court. The press has no idea any of this is happening, and that’s the way I want to keep it.”

Justus flicked his eyes to Jason, then back to Elizabeth. “All right. Then let’s talk about the other options. We’ll need to focus on the judge then. Getting him to see your point of view. Forgive me if I say you have a sympathetic story. I’d like permission to play that up—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “You mean talk about Cady.”

“Yes. And the injuries you suffered. The fact that Jason’s accident was only, what, six weeks later? It’ll go a long way to making you into the victim. And then the judge will hopefully see that Jason is perfectly capable of making his own decisions, which include staying or ending his own marriage.”

“All right.” Elizabeth pulled a chair out, then sat down, perching at the edge of the chair. Jason sat as well, this time taking the seat next to her. “You’ll file the injunction then.”

“Yes. If you’re adamant about not using public opinion,” Justus said, “then we need to make sure the judge takes this seriously. Jason’s working, holding down a job and I’d like an affidavit from Luke as to his ability to do so.”

“Yeah, sure,” Luke said with a shrug. “Kid does just fine.”

“And the two of you need to show a united front,” Justus continued, looking between Jason and Elizabeth. “The whole point of stopping the divorce and making the judge think twice about denying my motion is if the two of you are serious about making the marriage work.”

“I—” Elizabeth clenched her hands in her lap. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Jason should probably move back into the apartment,” Justus said.

“No,” Jason said before Elizabeth could, and she blinked at him. “No. That’s not an option. Why can’t we just tell the judge we’re taking our time to figure out what we want to do—”

“We could do that. But ultimately, the goal is to get our foot in the door in probate court. If I can get your marriage sanctioned by the court, then Elizabeth can file as an interested party in probate.” Justus paused. “And I can make an argument that she, not Alan, should be conservator of the person.”

“I don’t want to be anything—the whole point is to make this over—” Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Wait. If I were a co-conservator—”

“Then you have the power to request it be dissolved. That’s the back up plan to using public opinion,” Justus said. “Jason?”

“Can’t I just go to the mansion and punch the old man?” Jason muttered, slouched in the chair. “That feels like it would be faster and more satisfying.”

“I honestly think Edward and Alan will back down before it gets that far,” Justus said. “I think letting the rest of the family in on what’s going on will do us a lot of good. I mean, Elizabeth, if you’d brought this to me months ago—”

“Really? You think Lila and Monica can stop this?” Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands. “Tell me, Justus, where were you when Edward froze Jason’s trust fund last May because I didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, and he had to hire a lawyer to get the money moving again. Monica knew that happened. She was in the conference room when Edward finally admitted defeat. She wanted Edward to go to court. She was so sure that freezing Jason out of his money would keep him from staying with me.”

Justus took a deep breath. “All right, then—”

“And Lila. She’s a very sweet woman, you know. But where was she when Edward threw me off the estate two months ago?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “In the foyer, telling me that we should just give Jason a few weeks. It would all be okay if we were patient. And then Edward called security.” She leaned back, one brow arched. “Should I go on, Justus?”

“No,” Justus muttered. “I know the family wasn’t welcoming to you—”

“I’m not going to hold my breath that anyone from the family will be able to talk Edward or Alan down,” Jason said. “So there’s no point in going over this again and again. Elizabeth didn’t tell them about it because she didn’t see the point. And I agree with her. So you need us to look married so that she’s the best choice for a conservator. That’s the bottom line.”

“Yes,” Justus said, wincing. “Elizabeth—”

“How long would that take?” she asked softly. “How long, I mean, would we have to—” She licked her lips.

“I don’t know. It depends on the injunction holding. I’ll file that, and hope it gets put on the calendar within a week or so. If the judge doesn’t deny it, if he dismisses the divorce petition, then I can file in probate. This is the best plan. Outside of calling the papers.”

“Then okay. If Jason is okay with it, we’ll do it this way. Um, the apartment—” Her chest felt tight. “There’s a second—there’s another room. We could—”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Jason said, and she closed her eyes. “That’s good enough for me. We’re not touching her room until you’re ready.”

Elizabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Is there anything else?” Jason wanted to know.

“No, I’ll get started on the paperwork, and I’ll be in touch.” Justus packed the paperwork into his briefcase.

“I’ll walk you to the door. Make sure you get out,” Luke said, following Justus.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, staring down at her hands. “For…for saying that. About the room. But maybe—”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept under the docks,” Jason said, standing up. “The sofa can’t be any worse.” He held out his hand.

But she couldn’t take it. She didn’t want to touch him, to look at him. It was too much. It was always too much, and she was exhausted. “I need to wash my face before my shift starts. We’ll…talk about the specifics later.”

Jason watched her disappear towards the bathroom as Luke rejoined them. “The press,” he asked, looking at the bar owner. “It was worse than she probably made it out to be, wasn’t it?”

“Well, I don’t know what she told you, but, yeah, it was bad. Sonny took care of it. He made a few calls to WKPC, made sure they knew where their bread was buttered. And the papers — well, you start threatening defamation and libel lawsuits, they start shutting up.” Luke was grim. “And you punched a reporter.”

“Good,” Jason said flatly. “That’s the first thing I’ve heard about myself that makes sense.”

“Your first arrest. We were very proud of you,” Luke said, almost fondly. He headed for the bar. “Until then, to be honest, couldn’t really understand why Lizzie put up with you. But the human heart is a mystery. And your family was making your life miserable, too.” He poured himself a shot of whiskey. “But you stuck, so I guess there’s something to it. Would have been easier for both of you to toss in the towel, but what are you going do? Two stupid kids.” He tossed back the whiskey. “What they’re still doing to you? It’s a goddamn crime, and they’re gonna get off light because she doesn’t have the heart to roast them in the media.”

“There’s gotta be another way to make this go faster,” Jason said. He hesitated. “You said Sonny made calls. That he has some power. I’ve heard rumors.”

Luke swirled the whiskey in his glass, cocked his head. “Ah, you looking for the kind of revenge that doesn’t come from the courts?”

“I wouldn’t mind making them miserable, so yeah. Maybe. This court stuff — I get why it’s necessary, but I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me who runs my life. I do.”

“That piece of paper is gonna make it easier for other people to accept it, so you might as well get it. But, yeah, the old man and your parents, it might be time for them to get a little taste of some justice.”

—

They worked the happy hour shift together, but Jason didn’t say anything to Elizabeth more than trading orders back and forth. She’d looked tired even before the meeting with Justus, and he wasn’t about to make her feel even worse.

For the last few months, all Jason had really thought about was himself. Which was fair, he told himself. He hadn’t had anything else to worry about. Or maybe he hadn’t let himself think about anything or anyone deeply enough to matter. He’d lived in that house with all the people who called themselves his family, and he had liked some of them.

But none of them had ever really felt like his or people that he would have sought out if they were standing in front of him, claiming to already belong to him. Or that he belonged to them. He didn’t want to belong to anyone but himself. He’d left the house, tired of hearing about Jason the person son, the perfect medical student, the perfect brother—it wasn’t who he was, or knew how to be—and it wasn’t even who he wanted to be. He didn’t know what he wanted, only to stop hearing their voices all the damn time. As soon as they’d started talking about sending him away, that he was damaged after all, well, he’d had to get out.

He hadn’t cared that maybe they’d worry. Lila and Emily, who were nice enough. They were worried. And Edward had probably been angry, barking out orders. Probably ordering Ned or Justus to find him, to drag him back home. They’d kept him on the move, kept him from planting down any roots—

Until he’d ended up at Luke’s. Now, over a week later, he had a job that he could do, even if he didn’t really like it much. And Luke was okay. Sonny didn’t seem so bad, when he was around. Mike, the guy in the kitchen, was okay, too.

And there was Elizabeth, who was supposed to be his family, too. Only she’d never tried to push herself into that role. Other than that day in his room, when she’d given him too much to think about, too much to absorb—but she’d only wanted to help him. To give him what she thought he wanted.

And then she’d told him to go away. To leave her alone. Because it hurt too much to be around him. No one had ever said that before. No one had ever really admitted that it was hard to look at him, and Jason could almost understand the family now. What would it be like for someone to wear your son’s face, to sound like him, but to never be him? If they had accepted that he wasn’t the same, if they’d just asked him for space, would it be different?

“I need six Rolling Rocks,” Elizabeth called from the other end of the bar. “And two Bud Lights.”

Jason filled orders, almost mechanically, taking the glasses, placing them under pump, and filling them to the brim the way he’d been shown. One by one, until he’d filled two drink trays and then a waitress had taken them away.

He was troubled because she’d asked him to stay away, and he’d meant to listen until Justus had told him she was the key to getting rid of that stupid piece of paper the Quartermaines held over his head, the paper that meant he’d always have to live and work at Luke’s because he was the only person in the whole damn city who wouldn’t shove Jason out on the street. He didn’t want Elizabeth to be the key to anything, he thought, because she didn’t want that either.

And now she was in the middle of it again, just the way she’d never wanted to be, and he thought that it wasn’t fair. Maybe they should still find another way to do this. Justus had to have other plans, didn’t he?

He decided he needed to tell Elizabeth that he didn’t want her help anymore, not when it made her so sad and it always seemed to make her think of losing her daughter. Their daughter, he corrected himself, wiping down the bar for the night, watching as one of the bouncers dragged the last drunk to the door and put him in one of taxi cabs.

She’d stayed past the end of her scheduled shift, until the bar had closed, and looked dead on her feet. Elizabeth reached under the bar to retrieve her purse, stifling a yawn, then looked at him, her eyes heavy. “Do you want to get your things later or now?”

“I was thinking maybe not at all,” Jason said, the words coming out in a rush that he hadn’t planned, and she frowned at him. “I was thinking it was really selfish of me to agree. To even ask you.”

“I’m too tired for this,” Elizabeth said, dragging one hand through hair. “You didn’t ask me.”

“I did—”

“Justus asked me. And I said yes. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.” She swung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. “So you can either come home with me or stay here, but I’m too tired to keep doing this.”

Jason muttered under his breath, then followed her, reaching her just as she reached the parking lot. “Elizabeth—”

Underneath one of the lights in the lot, she stopped, whirled around, stabbed a finger in his chest. “No. Don’t argue with me, okay? If Justus thought there was another way to do this, he’d have told you. Believe me. He does a good job of pretending, but he doesn’t really like me either. There’s not a single member of that damn family who would give you options that include me if there was another way. There isn’t. So unless you want Edward and Alan to follow you around and ruin your life for another few decades, you’ll come home with me, and we’ll figure out if you even fit on my damn sofa, okay?” Elizabeth glared at him, her hands at her hips, her cheeks flushed. “I’m helping you and you can’t stop me.”

“I just…don’t want to hurt you,” Jason said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “And it seems like that’s all I’ve done since I came back into your life.”

She sighed, looked away. “You didn’t come back into my life. You don’t remember ever being here before. I can’t blame you for that. And I don’t. You’re not the one hurting me, Jason. You never were.” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him again. “You’re not hurting me. So can we just be done with this conversation now? I’m really tired, and I want to go home.”