Written in 76 minutes. Sorry, the ending was a struggle. I had a plan and then once again, I just kept writing and I’m not sure if maybe this chapter goes off the rails, lol, but that’s the beauty of Flash Fiction. I’ll go where the story wants me to go, and fix it later.

Luke’s was quiet, generally deserted in the morning, but it was easy to lose your sense of time in the place, Jason thought as he descended the stairs from the second story the next morning. There were only a few windows in the place — just enough to be legal, Jason suspected, and they were kept shaded. You couldn’t see in — or out. Once inside, it always felt like night.

This morning, however, the club wasn’t completely empty. Jason could hear Mike Corbin, the kitchen manager in the kitchen, talking with his prep cooks. And behind the bar, a clipboard in her hand, was Elizabeth doing daily inventory.

At his approach, she glanced over then quickly away. “Hey. Um, good morning.”

“Morning.” Jason rested his elbows on the bar, watched her work. He still wasn’t sure of the rules between them and he didn’t like uncertainty. She’d agreed to help last night, but she’d still seemed sad, and he didn’t know if he’d really explained himself well. He didn’t know what he wanted — only that he didn’t like the idea of not talking to her. Not seeing her.

“Did you talk to Justus?” Elizabeth asked, keeping her eyes on the line of bottles, counting the second row. “Um, I’m due back in court next Wednesday. They’re trying to dismiss my objection to the last settlement offer. They’ll probably win,” she added with a mutter. “I had to write it myself, and I’m pretty sure I messed it up.”

“I left a message for him this morning. And he said he’d take over your case—”

“No. No, it’s okay. He’s better off focusing on you.” Elizabeth’s eyes darted in his direction, then away again. “I can take care of myself.”

Jason clenched his jaw, thought about arguing with her, but it was her life. Her mistake to make, he thought. “Fine. Is there anything I can help with? For inventory.”

“Oh. Yeah, you can go back into the storage room and check on the delivery we got this morning from our distributors. Thanks.”

Jason waited another moment, but she didn’t say anything else, and he wondered if he’d misunderstood the last conversation they’d had. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, he thought, heading down the hall to complete the inventory, but some sort of acknowledgment that they were going to be staying married, at least for now. And he was hoping she’d know what to do next. He sure as hell didn’t.

Lila’s words were still in his head — he had all the pieces of his old life in his hands now, but what did he want to keep? Did he want any of it? He felt sure that he didn’t want medical school. Couldn’t imagine spending his life in that damn hospital. And he wasn’t interested in being the Quartermaine son Monica and Alan seemed to want.

He thought he could be Emily’s brother. Ned and Justus’s cousin. Those pieces didn’t demand anything from him, and they all seemed nice enough. But the last two labels he’d learned of — husband and father. He couldn’t be a father anymore. That opportunity was gone. Being someone’s husband—that was asking a whole lot. And what did it mean to commit to one woman for your entire life? Did he want to do that?

And if he did, was he obligated to make it Elizabeth because they were already married? These were all questions he didn’t know how to ask — or if he should even try. But if he didn’t have answers to them, how was he supposed to know what came next?

——

It was closer to noon, just after Elizabeth had finished her inventory and was looking over the schedule for the next week, when the door to the club opened and Justus strode in. “Elizabeth. Hey. Jason left a message that he’d be here today. Is he around?”

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen with Mike. Um, before you go back to talk to him—” Elizabeth said as Justus stepped back. “He left you a message, you said. Did he tell you that he talked to me?”

“No, just that he needed to see me. I told him you were hesitant to agree, and I got the impression he wasn’t going to push you.” Justus paused. “Did he?”

“No. No, but we talked about it, and, um, I told him yes. So I’m telling you yes. I’ll do it.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I still don’t know if it’s a good idea, but if you think it’s the best way to get Jason out of this situation, then I want that to happen.”

Justus slapped his hand lightly against the bar. “That’s great. Really, you won’t regret it. Let me go grab Jason and we can talk strategy.”

“Fantastic,” she murmured as Justus disappeared into the back. A few minutes later, he re-emerged with Jason following. Elizabeth tossed down the towel she’d been wiping down the bar with, and went to sit with them at a table, leaving a chair between she and Jason at the four-seater.

“All right, here’s what I’m picturing for our attack,” Justus said. “Next week, you have a status conference scheduled,” he told Elizabeth. To Jason, he said, “That’s the last step before the divorce gets set for trial. The Quartermaines have been offering her a buyout of her interest in your estate in exchange for her signature on the papers.”

“A buyout,” Jason echoed. “Money.” He flicked his eyes to Elizabeth. “Was it a lot of money?”

“It started that way,” she murmured, picking at a cuticle. “Half a million to sign the papers and relocate. They wanted me out of the area. I refused. Then they divided that offer in half, and I think, the newest settlement offer is something around fifty grand.”

“Forty,” Justus corrected, and she sighed. “And a promise not to evict you from the marital home.”

Jason furrowed his brow, looked back and forth between them. “But that doesn’t make sense. Elizabeth refusing to sign—shouldn’t they offer more?”

“The closer we get to trial, the more sure Edward is that he’ll win,” Elizabeth told Jason with some reluctance. “My lawyer — who resigned in protest when I turned down the second offer, told me that the judge is some old golfing buddy of Edward’s. The divorce is happening whether I like it or not. I, um, didn’t believe him then,” she admitted. “I do now. The judge refused to even listen to me about the conservatorship.”

“And you think we can make this work?” Jason asked, switching his attention to Justus. “It seems like Elizabeth tried everything.”

“She did. But she didn’t use her own leverage. I’ll be serving my notice of appearance to Edward and Alan at Easter dinner this weekend. They don’t have a clue that I’m involved — they know you’re here,” Justus told his cousin. “Ned’s been playing double agent for us, and one of the maids overheard Edward and Alan deciding to let things play out until the court date. They were interested in how Elizabeth would approach this. How you would react,” he told Jason.

“They’ll be confused if you serve them, though. No one in the house knows about the conservatorship. At least I know Lila doesn’t. Monica…” Elizabeth made a face. “Harder to say.”

“I’m sure that Monica is out of the loop, as well. And I confirmed with Ned that he didn’t know, and yes, I believe him,” he said even as Jason opened his mouth. “Serving them means making sure they know about the conservatorship. Then, we go to court and I file an injunction on behalf of Jason to stop the divorce. The judge will have to let us argue the motion, and I’ll appeal up to the state court to stall out. And believe me, this will go public.”

Elizabeth froze “Public,” she repeated. “You’re looking to use the media against them. You didn’t say that before.”

“Elizabeth, listen, I know the media isn’t your favorite thing—”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Her heart was pounding. “Why not fight it in the court?”

“Because Jason, believe it or not, does not have legal standing. But I can’t get a look at the papers without something. I’m hoping we get a sense of how they were able to establish it in the first place. What reports, what doctors — they have to attach something to defeat my injunction.”  Justus hesitated. “All of that and a leak to the press—”

“No. No. I’m sorry.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. You never said that’d be part of it. I’m sorry.” She jerked her chair back, stood. “No. I won’t do that.”

“Elizabeth—” Justus began.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, mystified. “I don’t understand.”

“Family court records are sealed. I don’t want—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. It took them weeks to go away after—after. Weeks. I can’t do it again. Is that the only weapon the Quartermaines have? Leaks to the press? Don’t you have anything else?”

Justus frowned. “Wait. What leaks are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why—” Her throat closed, and she couldn’t force out the words.

“What’s all the ruckus out here?” Luke emerged from the back, a newspaper in his hand. “What’s going on? Justus? You’re a little earlier for Happy Hour.” He came to Elizabeth’s side. “Lizzie, what’s the situation?”

“I can’t.” Elizabeth fled, and the front door slammed in her wake. Jason took a step towards following her, but Luke snagged his arm.

“Don’t touch me—” Jason shoved at Luke, who just stepped in front of him again.

“And don’t screw with my girl. I told you—what are you and the lawyer asking her to do?” Luke demanded.

“Elizabeth agreed to use her divorce hearing to start the ball rolling so we can get Jason out of this damn conservatorship. But I told her we’d leak what Edward and Alan are doing to the press, and she lost it—”

“Yeah, no shit. He gets a pass on it—” Luke jerked a thumb in Jason’s direction which only infuriated him more. “But you? Tell me you’re not that stupid. You know why she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the media. Not after what happened at the funeral.”

“Oh, come on, Luke. You can’t think they had anything to do with that. I know they’re ruthless, but the police investigation was hardly secret,” Justus scoffed. “Anyone who knew the details would have asked the questions—”

“What funeral are you talking about?” Jason cut in sharply. “If someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on right now—”

“The day we put that baby in the ground,” Luke said in clipped tones, not taking his eyes from Justus, “the press showed up. WKPC shoved a microphone in Elizabeth’s face, asking if she had any regrets about being at a bar and then getting into a car with her baby.”

Jason stared at him. “What? What—”

“It was bullshit, Luke, and everyone knew it—”

“Everyone? Really? That’s not what I heard. It’s not what I saw. All the public knew was that it was a drunk driver who caused the accident, and that succubus on the news made sure they thought it was Elizabeth who’d been drinking.” Luke shook his head, looked to Jason. “It wasn’t. But that didn’t stop the press from going after her. They tried to get her hospital records — and then they found out they didn’t test her for alcohol, they started screaming cover-up—”

“Why do you think the family was behind any of that?” Justus demanded. “No way—they were as devastated—”

“Really? Really? You don’t think they were hoping Jason would believe them—” Luke looked over to Jason — only to find the space empty, and the front door swinging closed. He returned his focus to Justus. “You got a lot of nerve walking in here, trying to get her to let the media into her life again. One call from Edward Quartermaine, and they shut their mouths. You damn well know that.”

“The way I hear it, it was one call from Sonny that took care of it—”

“It shouldn’t have gotten to that. They wanted that marriage over, Justus, and you know it. Edward used that tragedy, and he would have kept using it if Jason hadn’t cracked his head open and forgot all of it ever happened.”

Justus grimaced. “It’s all I got—”

“Yeah, well go find something else. The Quartermaines are done using Elizabeth for their amusement, you hear me? Best thing for her to do is to sign those papers and start over.”

—

Jason should have gone after her immediately, he thought. As soon as she’d fled the bar — but he’d stayed and listened — and now, standing at the entrance of Luke’s, he had no idea where to look for Elizabeth.

And then she cam around the corner of the building, swiping her hand over her mouth as if she was trying to wipe away the taste of something. She stopped when she saw Jason standing there.

“You told me that you didn’t read any of the newspaper coverage.” It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it escaped his mouth anyway. “That I handled everything.”

Her eyes looked too big for her face, and she was still maybe ten feet away. “I didn’t have to read it to know what they were saying. That wasn’t a lie.” Her voice was hoarse, and he wondered why. Had she come out here to scream? To cry?

“Okay. Then tell me what they were saying.” Jason fisted his hands at his side. “Tell me what they did.”

She exhaled slowly, then closed the distance between them, passing Jason to go to the front door. Elizabeth rested her hand on the door, staring at the cheap wood. “No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t at a bar, I was here at Luke’s. I brought Cady here to visit with people who care about me.” She looked back at him. “And then you called because I was late. I got in the car, I was only a few blocks away. And then the car was hit. It rolled and hit a tree, nearly slicing it half. I saw the pictures from the accident report. Edward threw them in my face when he accused me of killing my baby. Cady died on impact. And I was in a coma for almost a week after.”

She sighed, looked back at the door. “You handled everything because I almost died. And then later, because I couldn’t. Everyone blamed me anyway. They didn’t believe I wasn’t drinking, and the press reported that I wasn’t tested. They were screaming cover-up, just like AJ’s accidents had been covered up. Your mother blamed me. Edward. Alan. Emily asked me that question, too, you know. But you never did.”

Elizabeth met his eyes. “I didn’t tell you because it’s over. Sonny made the media go away, and once AJ nearly killed you, everyone had something else to obsess about. You don’t remember. You don’t remember any of it.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “If you want my help with the court hearing, I’ll give it. But no leaks to the press. I don’t want them involved. If even a hint of this ends up in the papers, I’ll take their blood money, sign the papers, and let you fend for yourself.”

Jason slowly nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell Justus. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.” But she looked a thousand miles away, and he didn’t know how to make it better. With every passing day, he learned another fact about the life he’d lived before and he thought less and less of the man he’d been before the accident. What kind of husband had let her be blamed? Had he ever defended her from that damn family?

“It’s not okay,” Jason corrected. He pulled the door open. “But I’ll make it clear to Justus. I want his help, and I want to be free of this. But not at your expense.”

+35

Written in 59 minutes.

Jason didn’t really know why he’d gone back to Elizabeth’s apartment after the uncomfortable conversation with Justus, or why he’d offered to take her on the bike when she’d made it clear more than a few times that what she really needed was space.

But maybe she didn’t really understand it either because she had reached for the helmet, offering him a half smile that almost seemed pitying — as if she didn’t believe anything would really help, but since he was trying to be nice—

She gingerly wrapped her arms around his chest, and there was still space between them. Maybe this had been a bad idea, Jason thought, but if he could just get out of town, to the roads without traffic lights or other drivers—

Her body was stiff, almost like concrete —

Until the first sharp turn on the cliff road that climbed towards the highest point in the city—Jason leaned in and took the turn just a little faster than he should have, and her arms tightened around him—he picked up speed, the wind rushing past, roaring in his ears, slapping at his cheeks—

By the fifth and final turn, Jason heard Elizabeth laughing, her fingers digging into chest, her nails curling into the soft fabric of the t-shirt he wore. She’d scooted forward, leaning against his back, leaning in with him to the turns so that she could feel the difference, the adrenaline rush as the black pavement of the road beneath them came closer, almost as if they were going to fall over—

Then they were out of the turn, and Jason pulled the bike upright again, the danger gone—all that was in front of them now was the final access road that led up to Vista Point. When he glided the bike into one of the parking stops, he waited, wondering what her reaction would be—

Elizabeth stumbled off the bike, falling slightly as she pulled her leg over the back of it. Then she tore the helmet off, her hair tumbling around her face, the flush in her cheeks and sparkling in her eyes visible beneath one of the lamps illuminating the parking lot.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! How fast were you going? I thought we were just going to—” She made a swooshing gesture with her hand. “Fly right off the side off the cliff, and then I thought we were going down, but then we didn’t—” Her hand was shaking as she dragged it through her hair, her breathing rapid. “You’re crazy, you know that? There’s no way that was legal!”

Jason switched off the bike, set it on the stand, and slid off the bike. She backed up a step, but she was still smiling, mouth slightly parted so he could see the flash of her teeth. A real smile, he thought. Not a closed-lip, I’ll put up with this smile. “Is that a complaint?” he asked, tipping his head.

“No. No!” Elizabeth bit her lip, sat the helmet down on the seat of the bike. “Just—I couldn’t think! The first time you went into a turn, and you picked up the speed—” She shook her head. “It all just stopped. Everything went away, and all I could think about was how loud the wind was, and the world was just blurry—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “It all stopped,” she repeated, but more softly. “You said it would. Thank you.”

“It helped me when I first left the mansion,” Jason said. “When I was angry, or frustrated. Every time I lost a job or got kicked out of where I was staying—” He jerked a shoulder.

“Found out you had a secret wife?” she asked with a hesitant smile. And he nodded. “Yeah, I could see how it would be nice to put it all away. Even for a little while.” She folded her arms, then wandered over towards the observation deck overlooking Lake Ontario. He followed, watched as she rested her arms on the metal railing. It had been painted some color of orange years ago, but the paint was flaking off in some spaces and had been worn away by weather in others.

“I haven’t been up here in years,” Elizabeth murmured. “Vista Point. Where the high school kids went to make out if their parents were home.” She flicked her eyes to him with some amusement. “Did you know that? During the spring and summer, you can’t get a parking spot up here.”

“Uh, no, I did not.” He leaned his back against the railing, facing away from the lake. “Did…did you come up here?”

“Mmm, yeah. With Lucky Spencer. Luke’s son.” Elizabeth moved away from the railing, went down the set of two steps to the bench, and he joined her. “We dated until senior year, and he got into MIT in Boston. It was never forever,” she added almost wistfully. “Everyone went away. On to something else. Better and brighter things. Emily went to Stanford, Lucky to Cambridge. The one in Massachusetts, that’s where MIT is,” she said. “His brother Nikolas was already at the real one in England.” She folded her arms, closed her eyes, tilted her head up to the sky. “And I went to work at Kelly’s.”

Jason waited a long moment. “Are you sorry about that?”

“No. Mostly. I wanted to go to art school in New York. I got in, too,” she said. “School of Visual Arts, one of the best in the country. But my parents didn’t want to pay the tuition, and wouldn’t help me get loans.” Elizabeth sighed, dropped her head back down to look at him. “I didn’t qualify without their help, so here I stay. It’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have done anything with my degree anyway. And I’m good at the bar.”

Jason didn’t like that, and wondered why if he’d had all that money before the accident, why he hadn’t given her some of it to go to school. Why had she been working while he went to school— But he didn’t know how to ask that. Or if he even had the right to. He could still remember the way she’d looked at him, with her back to that room in the apartment, refusing to even look inside.

“And you can’t beat Luke as a boss, honestly. He basically lets me do what I want.” Elizabeth shrugged. “So it all worked out.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but it was her life so who was he to disagree with her. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She turned her body slightly, angling so that she could face him. “Tell me. Justus’s back up plan. Did he say what it was?”

Jason shook his head. “We don’t have to talk about that. That’s not why—”

“I know. But I’m asking. He has one, doesn’t he?”

“I—not one that he’s ready to put into action,” Jason said finally. “He said he had to make phone calls. Pull more records—it’s fine. Now that I know what’s going on, I can handle it—”

“But it still involves me.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Did Justus tell you why I was hesitant? I didn’t tell him no, Jason. Did he say I did?”

“No. He just said you didn’t seem that enthusiastic about it.” Jason shoved himself to his feet, restless. “And when he told me you could have been out of this weeks ago, and maybe they wouldn’t be trying to evict you, but—”

“But I was stubborn. I told them I wouldn’t take a dime of their money, but they could have whatever they wanted from me if they just ended the conservatorship.”

When he looked back at her, she was watching with careful, guarded eyes. “You didn’t have to do that. Your lawyer quit.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about representing myself the next time. Costs less money and my client would talk back less.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Jason, his plan means we’d have to go to court and lie. I don’t want to do that.”

Jason frowned. “No. It’s not a lie. I mean, Justus said we’d tell the judge that I don’t want the divorce.  I don’t. That’s not a lie.”

Her lips parted again. “What?”

“I don’t—” He grimaced, then sat down. “Look. I don’t know that I want to be married either,” he said carefully, and she exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what I want. And maybe you do want the divorce. That’s…that’s okay. You should get that if you want it. I’ll give it to you. I just…they’re taking away the choice. That’s what he did when I lived there. He took away the cars, so I bought the bike. So he took away the checkbook. And then he wouldn’t let me out off the estate.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Edward literally had them close the gates so I couldn’t leave.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“He said I didn’t know what I was doing. That everything I did just embarassed the family because I didn’t know how to act. I wasn’t being a good Quartermaine,” Jason bit out. “I told him I didn’t want to be a Quartermaine—so he said until I could behave myself, I couldn’t go out and damage their reputation anymore than I already had.” He shook his head. “And no one stopped him. Not anyone who said they were my family.”

“I’m sorry. Emily—she’s the only person who told me anything. And she never—”

“No, they wouldn’t tell her.” Jason scowled. “But it’s all they know how to do. They tell you they’re your family and that they love you, but all they know how to do is put you in a box. This is who you are, they told me, and anything I did that didn’t fit in that box wasn’t allowed—” He looked at her. “They kept you away from me because they don’t think you fit in the box, do they?”

“No, they don’t.” She smiled faintly. “That never bothered me, though.”

“Well, I don’t think they should be in charge of who I am or what I do or anything else.” He exhaled slowly, some of the tightness easing from his chest. “So I want my choices back. I want to be in control. Not them. I went to Lila today. She told me I had the pieces now. I knew all the things I’d been before, and I could pick what I wanted to keep.”

“Pieces?” Elizabeth echoed with a slight shake of her head. “I don’t understand.”

“They said I was a medical student, a perfect son,” Jason bit out, “but it wasn’t all that I was.   And they — even Lila — they all decided which pieces they were going to give me. I don’t want the life they picked for me. But I don’t—” He hesitated.

“You don’t know if you want the life they kept from you, either,” Elizabeth finished softly. “That’s fair, Jason—”

“But maybe I—” He met her gaze, her steady blue eyes that seemed to know him, even when he didn’t understand himself. “I don’t know. I don’t know where we end up. I just know it shouldn’t be up to them.”

“That’s what Justus said,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, looking away. “That even if we did…go our separate ways, it should be our choice. And the only way we get it back is to fight for it.” She closed her eyes. “I just…the idea of going into that court and telling the judge that you don’t want the divorce — how do we even know he’ll listen? That he’ll believe you? Or me?” She snorted. “Knowing Edward, he already knows you’re at Luke’s and he’s working on a whole new way to make me miserable. He probably thinks I put Luke up to it. What if he makes the judge believe I’m taking advantage of you or something?”

Jason scowled. “I can make my own choices—”

“I didn’t say that I could do it — only that Edward might—I don’t know. I’m just tired of fighting, Jason.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jason promised. “I’ll do it. Justus will take care of everything. He said that you just have to agree. I know you tried hard to make this go away. But I think I can do this. It’s my turn to fight.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, then rose to her feet, returning to the observation deck and the view of the lake. “I just need some clarification on something,” she said finally looking back at him. “You said you don’t know where we end up. Does that mean—” she swallowed hard. “No. Never mind.”

“It means that I don’t know what I want,” Jason said, reaching for her hand on the railing and taking it in his. “But I know that I keep showing up at your door even when I shouldn’t. I don’t know what that means,” he added, and she bit her lip again. “And maybe that’s not enough. I know it’s not enough—”

“It’s…more than I thought I’d ever have. I just don’t know if I can bear to live with the possibility that—” A tear slid down her cheek and her voice faltered. “It’s like you’re offering me a chance to have my husband back so that I’ll help you and I know that’s not what you’re saying—” she rushed to add when he opened his mouth. “But it’s how it feels, and it’s what it means, doesn’t it? Because if I say no, Edward gets this finalized in a matter of weeks, and I’m out of the picture. But if I say yes, this all gets bogged down for weeks and maybe months, and it’s time. So maybe you don’t mean to offer that to me, but you’re doing it.”

Elizabeth pulled her hand back, stepped back and he nearly reached out to stop her, to hold her in one place because she was slipping away again and he didn’t know how to stop her or why he wanted to.

“What do you want me to do?” Jason asked finally, forcing the words out. “You wanted me to go away, and I did that. I can do it again—”

“Feels like we’d just end up here again,” she murmured. She looked down at her hand, at the wedding ring she still wore. Elizabeth twisted it around her finger. “Time,” she repeated. “It’s something I used to pray for. More time with…just more time. And you’re offering it. Maybe it won’t matter. Maybe you won’t love me again. And maybe I won’t love you anymore. Maybe it’ll go away. But it’s time. And I can’t turn away from it. All right. Tell Justus to do whatever he needs to do.” She met his eyes, smiled faintly. “Can we take another ride? I think I need the world to go away again.”

+34

Written in 63 minutes.

Since he’d left the Quartermaine mansion a month ago, Jason had only returned twice to visit with Lila. These were always clandestine meetings, arranged by the butler who was devoted to the older woman.

Jason didn’t really understand why someone would want to spend their life taking care of someone else, but the butler Reginald seemed happy enough. And had no problem ignoring Edward’s dictate that if Jason didn’t want to follow the rules, he couldn’t step foot inside the house.  A call to Reginald was all that was necessary for Jason to find some time to talk to Lila in the kitchen of the mansion.

It had been a few days since he’d gone to the apartment, since Elizabeth had told him she intended to keep her distance. True to her word, she’d arranged Jason’s work schedule so that he never saw her — Elizabeth took the opening shift at the bar and was cleared out by the time happy hour was over.

Jason didn’t much like it, but he didn’t really understand why. Elizabeth was doing what he’d asked everyone else to do, wasn’t she? Treating him like she didn’t know him. She didn’t, Jason reminded himself. And he didn’t really know her.

But sometimes he found himself pulling out the photograph he’d never returned to her, and looking at the image of the life he’d had before the accident. The baby he held whose entire life was less than a handful of pages in a baby book.

Restless and irritated with himself, Jason decided that maybe he needed a few more answers from the people who called themselves Jason’s family, and Lila seemed as good a place to start as any other.

“It’s so lovely to see you my dear,” Lila said, holding out her hands for Jason to take. He squeezed them lightly, then sat down at the kitchen table, next to her wheel chair. “I was so happy to get your message. I’ve worried about you.” She paused. “Edward said you’d lost another job.”

Jason clenched his jaw, dropped his eyes. A few weeks ago, he’d have told her exactly what happened — he’d have told her that Edward and Alan were blacklisting him all over town. But now, he wondered what the point would be. What could Lila do? Justus might think the old lady had power, but Jason had seen no evidence of it.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve been working at Luke’s for about a week. Bartending,” he added. “I have a room upstairs.”

“Luke’s.” Lila’s smile faded just slightly, and Jason wondered if she thinking about Elizabeth. Calculating what he might know, and she should say. “And…you like it? You’ve met your, uh, co-workers?”

“Sonny and Luke seem fine. And Mike, the guy who runs the kitchen, he’s okay. But you’re asking if I met Elizabeth, aren’t you?”

Lila stilled, then slowly nodded. “I was, I suppose, getting to that. But I didn’t know how to…so you’ve met her.”

“I’ve met her. And I know who she is.” Jason paused. “You say you’re my grandmother.”

“My darling—”

“And I like you,” he continued, “so I guess I just want to know how you can be my family and let me walk around for three months without telling me about this.” Jason laid the photograph on the table. “Justus said you thought I’d be angry at Elizabeth. Is that what it was? You were protecting her?”

“Oh. My love.” Lila picked up the photo, her fingertips trailing over the small faces. “She was such a lovely child. You brought her to me every week, you know. Every Sunday afternoon, after church.”

“Did I bring Elizabeth?”

Lila raised her eyes to Jason, tipped her head. “You never asked any questions about before—”

“No one let me forget,” Jason bit out, and she closed her mouth. “Every day — you used to do this, this isn’t how you are, this isn’t what you’re supposed to do—Every day, everyone in this house told me who they thought Jason Quartermaine was. Who they wanted him to be. But no one ever told me about this. Being a medical student and a good son, a good grandson? These were more important?”

Lila gently laid the photograph down, folded her hands in her lap. “If you will remembered correctly, young man, I never did any of that.” Her quiet voice, lined with steel, shamed Jason and his cheeks burned. “By the time you came into this house, you were already angry with the world. Yes, your grandfather acted poorly. Your parents pushed too hard—”

“They lied.”

“By omission, yes. They spoke of the future they wanted you to have because you didn’t want to speak of the past. And Ned thought maybe Elizabeth wanted to keep her distance. After all, she never came to the house and to my knowledge, she never visited in the hospital either—”

“They wouldn’t let her.”

Lila blinked, then shook her head no. “No, that’s not possible. She’s your wife, Jason. She would have the right to see you. And she could have just asked to see me, I would have made sure she was allowed in the house—”

“So you’re telling me Elizabeth is lying?” Jason wanted to know, lifting his brows. He knew the answer to the question. He’d seen the paperwork.

“I—well, she must be mistaken. It was a misunderstanding—” Lila paused. “I thought we ought to give her time to handle it in her own time. And she’s done that, I see. That’s why you’re here. Angry that we lied to you—”

“You told me the pieces you wanted me to know. You left the rest of it out.” Jason looked away. “I had a right, I think, to know.”

“You did. And Ned was wrong, and we were wrong to agree.  But I promise you, dear, I did it because I thought it was best. For you both. I hope you would have been kind to Elizabeth, but I don’t know.” Lila touched his hand. “I am glad that you know now. Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Jason muttered. He didn’t know what he was doing here. What was the point of this conversation. “Is there anything else I should know? Anything else you’re keeping from me to protect me or someone else?”

“No, I promise you, darling. There’s no other dark secret about your life before the accident. You were a wonderful young man with a lot of promise. A medical student who wanted to save lives. A good son, grandson, and brother.” Lila paused. “And a devoted and adoring father and husband. All of those pieces of the puzzle you have now. I suppose it’s up to you which you intend to keep—if any.”

Jason nodded, but said nothing. He slid the photograph back into his wallet, returned it to his pocket.

“And to answer your earlier question, Jason—” He looked up at his grandmother. “No, you never brought Elizabeth. I was always disappointed that you didn’t work harder to build a bridge between this family and your wife. Or stand up for her more. It was the first time I could remember being disappointed in you.”

His throat was tight, and he swallowed. This was a first, he thought. A criticism of the man he’d been before. “What?”

“You never did enough,” Lila said, her tone still gentle, but the look in her eyes was determined. “You never put your grandfather in his place, or pushed back against your parents. They treated Elizabeth terribly from the moment you brought her into this house, and you let them. So, no, Jason, you never brought your wife and daughter to see me at the same time. Does that answer your question?”

He didn’t even know why he’d asked it — but maybe he thought this would be the answer. And he didn’t like it very much. But these were facts wrapped in Lila’s opinion, and Jason didn’t see a reason to disagree with it. Maybe the man he’d been once had been a good one in many respects — but he hadn’t been a perfect one.

And there was something almost reassuring in that particular realization, though he didn’t understand why.

—

Elizabeth set a drink in front of a customer, then slid down to the end of the bar where Justus had been waiting patiently for a few minutes. “Sorry. It always gets a little busy here when there’s the shift change on the docks.”

“Yeah, I know. I, uh, was hoping I could get a few minutes of your time.” Justus raised his brows. “I’ve gone through the legal papers you gave Jason, and looked into a few other things on my own.”

Elizabeth tensed. “I told him that my lawyer—”

“Your lawyer doesn’t return phone calls, Elizabeth. Which you know, don’t you? Since he withdrew from your case a week ago.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t notice that,” she muttered. Then went to fill another drink order, trying to think of how to manage this situation. When she returned to Justus, she thought she had an angle. “Look, I don’t really need a lawyer, right? Especially now that you’re involved with Jason’s case. They were always going to win. The divorce and the eviction—”

“If that’s true, why didn’t you take the settlement they offered? Don’t answer that, I already know.” Justus folded his arms on the bar. “So you’re avoiding Jason—”

“There’s—there’s nothing to avoid. He’s…” Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger, then looked down it, jarred by the casual habit. “It’s in name only at this point. A legal tie that barely means anything—”

“It might mean a whole lot if he wants to get out of this conservatorship,” Justus said, and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “I have some thoughts on that, but before I bring it up to Jason, I need to know if it’s something you’d consider.”

“Why—why would—why would you need me—”

“I know you were trying to get this whole thing dissolved before Jason ever found out it existed. I think it’s a nice thing you tried to do—stupid,” Justus added, and she scowled. “But nice. Making dissolving the conservatorship a condition of the divorce. But Edward and Alan hold all the cards. Or they did. But they should have taken your offer.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked dubiously. “What can I even do?”

“Edward is asking the family court for a divorce on Jason’s behalf. I can’t get into the probate court records,” Justus said. “Even if I’m Jason’s attorney. But you know what I might be able to do? File an injunction to stop the divorce. Because if you and Jason walk into that court, and tell the judge you don’t want a divorce, I’d be very interested to learn how Edward works around that with a judge.”

Elizabeth stared at Justus for a long moment, then shook her head. “No. No, it wouldn’t work. Okay? It’s…you’re not thinking it through, okay? Because—because—” She couldn’t think. Couldn’t form whole words. Her brain had skittered to a stop—

She heard her name called, and went to serve another regular, furiously turning Justus’s decision over and over again in her mind, trying to find the right reason to reject it.

“Here’s why it doesn’t work,” Elizabeth said, finally going back to the end of the bar. “Because Jason and I would have to lie to the court and say we were staying married. And we’re not. Okay? We’re not. He doesn’t want that. And you’re a lawyer, you’re—you’re not supposed to let us lie.”

“I think you and I both agree that you and Jason should be making that decision on your own,” Justus told her, and she bit her lip dropping her eyes to the top of the bar. “And right now, you’re not. Edward’s making it for you, and you’re fighting it to get Jason free of my idiot grandfather. The only way that decision gets returned to you, Liz, is if you fight to make it yours. And we do that by making the judge question why Edward is in even in his court at all. And start embarrassing Edward for having a conservatorship that isn’t valid. It can’t be. Jason’s completely capable of living his own life.”

“He—I know he is. I tried—” She fisted her hand, bit her lip. “Edward is going to point out Jason and I don’t live together. We’re not married in anyway that actually matters. We barely know each other.”

“We can talk about all of that, Elizabeth. You probably have a point. If the judge thinks you’ll just get divorced anyway—but I need leverage to get at this conservatorship.” Justus leaned forward. “And this is the best one I’ve got. And listen, Jason still has to agree to this, so it’s not a done deal. But can I ask him?”

“You can ask him, but I’m not agreeing until I know what he says. It’s his life. I just want him to have his life back.”

“Then I’ll talk to him, and we’ll see what happens.” Justus lid off the bar stool. “I’ll be in touch.”

——

But it wasn’t Justus that followed up on the conversation — it was Jason. Without warning, when she fully expected him to be working the night shift with Claude behind the bar, Jason showed up at the apartment that night.

She stared at him through the peephole, considered changing her name and running away to Mexico. If she climbed through the window—

Instead, Elizabeth pulled the door open, but remained in the doorway. She didn’t think she could handle Jason in the apartment again. Once was enough.

“Hey.” Jason’s hands were in the pockets of the leather jacket he wore, his expression hidden mostly by the shadows of the hallway. “Sorry to just show up, like this, but I told Luke I needed the night off.”

“That’s Luke’s problem, not mine.” She folded her arms. Didn’t move an inch. She needed to keep this boundary. Needed to do whatever was necessary to keep Jason out of her life. He needed to be nothing more some lines on the divorce papers whenever they arrived.

“I talked to Justus. Um. He said you…that you’d talked to him.”

“I did.”

“Can—” Jason squinted. “Can I maybe come in, and we can talk about it—”

“No. No. I’m sorry. I can’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Look, just wait right here, okay? I’ll go get a jacket and we can talk outside.”

She closed the door before he could answer, and went to get a thin jacket and a pair of sneakers. When she went back to the hallway, Jason was still waiting. “I’m not trying to be rude, but—”

“You don’t want me in the apartment,” Jason said. “I understand.”

“Glad one of us does,” Elizabeth muttered, before taking the flight of stairs down to the street level.

Outside their apartment building, parked by the street was the motorcycle she knew he’d bought before he’d left the Quartermaines. Emily had related the story over the phone, one she’d heard from her mother — Jason had driven right through the terrace doors during breakfast —

It had seemed like a fantastical tale — one that her Jason would never do, and so Elizabeth had put it out of her head, assuming Emily had been given an exaggerated version of whatever had happened.

But there was the bike — a Harley Davidson — parked at her curb.

Elizabeth turned back to Jason, keeping her back to the bike. “So you talked to Justus.”

“Yeah. He, ah, told me what he wanted to do. What he asked.” Jason’s eyes held hers. “But you don’t want to do it. So we need to think of something else. I wanted to tell you not to worry about it.”

“Oh—oh.” Elizabeth pressed his lips together, folded her arms. She hadn’t expected that, she realized. “I, um, I’m sorry—”

“No, I get it. You said you needed space. You need not to see me, and I—I understand that. You shouldn’t have to go in court and tell a judge something else. I told Justus we can do something else.”

“I—” Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “I told you I’d help. I—just—” She closed her eyes. “Justus has a backup plan, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know. He’s working on some things. But it’s not your problem,” Jason said. “I’m not your problem. I want you to know that. He said you were trying to get them to end the conservatorship, and your lawyer quit because you wouldn’t give up on that. I’m sorry—”

“You didn’t do anything.” Elizabeth winced when she realized how irritated she sounded. “You didn’t. None of this is your fault. All you did—” Was get into that damn car, she thought. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I think I know, and I try to do it, and it’s not. It always seems to be wrong. I tried to force my way into the hospital, and it just gave them the idea to do this — it backfired, and it just keeps backfiring—” She pressed her hands to her head. “And I can never just take a breath and make it all stop.”

“I can—” Jason stopped, and when he didn’t say anything, she frowned at him. “I can help with that.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked. “How?”

Jason walked past her to the bike, and reached for the helmet. He held it out to her. “When I left the Quartermaines, I wanted to stop thinking, too. This helps. I know you said you don’t want to be around me—”

“It’s not—” Her voice faltered. “It’s not about not wanting to be around you. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I just feel like it’s all falling apart, and it’s been crumbling for months, and every time I’ve built just a little bit of my world up again, it shatters, and eventually there won’t be anything left. I’ll just be…empty. There’ll be nothing. Do you know what that feels like?”

His voice was rough when he answered, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I do. That’s pretty much where I live. I can’t make it go away for good, but maybe…for a little while.” He extended the helmet again, and this time —

She took it.

+42

Written in 60 minutes.

Why does it matter to you? It was my money. You don’t even know me. So what are you doing here?

Jason didn’t know how to answer that question. There were so many questions he didn’t know how to answer these days — it would be more surprising if he could tell Elizabeth why he’d come over tonight, why he’d pushed her one the one subject that wasn’t really that important. He’d meant to ask her about the eviction notice — that was clearly more urgent and something that was being done now.

But he’d lived in the Quartermaine mansion for almost two months, and he knew the way they used their money. It had been the first carrot Edward had dangled in front of Jason to control him — do what I want and you can have whatever you want. Cross me, and you get nothing. When Jason hadn’t been willing to control his temper or stop asking questions of his own or pointing out how badly that so-called family treated one another — the money had been yanked away from him.

He didn’t care about it. He hadn’t earned it, and he could go out and find his own. He’d done just that, even if he now knew Edward and Alan had been sabotaging him at every opportunity. After getting kicked from Jake’s, Jason had planned to head out of Port Charles and trying something else. Then Luke had come to him, promised there’d be no Quartermaines to push him around, and Jason had stayed because it was easier to stay where he was for now.

But he didn’t like the idea that they were stealing from someone else. And they were using Jason to do it. They were doing it in his name, if he understood what a conservatorship meant. He didn’t want to be used. He didn’t want to be part of it.

Jason opened his mouth, maybe to explain this to her, but she just rolled her eyes and flounced away from him, because he’d taken too long to answer. He’d stood in front of her like a block of concrete — Lois had told him that once. Jason had to think about some things for a while to make it come out right, but it was always just a little too long and no one ever had patience for it —

“Never mind,” Elizabeth said. She went over towards the kitchen, jerked open the fridge door. “Was that all you wanted or—”

“Why do you ask questions if you don’t want the answer?” Jason demanded, and she looked at him, her hand resting on the top of the door, the bright, unnatural light of the fridge casting a strange shine to her face. “You ask and you get mad because I don’t have the words you want.”

“That’s not—” Elizabeth bit her lip, closed the door. “I’m not looking for words—”

“Then what are you looking for? It’s not an easy question with a yes or no or a fact answer,” he cut in again, feeling that old familiar rage rising because no one ever gave him a chance. They all thought he was too stupid to understand anything anymore. “I can’t just reach inside my brain and explain everything the way you want me to! I have to think!”

“I’m sorry. I’m—” Elizabeth retraced the few steps that separated the kitchen from the living area, and stopped behind the sofa, her fingers picking at the fringe on the throw blanket she’d folded over the top. “Okay. Do you want to answer my question then or do you want more time?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like an idiot, either. I’m not,” he said, his teeth clenched, his heart thudding so hard it pounded in his ears. “You’re just like them, and I thought you’d be different.”

Elizabeth rubbed her face, dragging both hands down her cheeks, then left them covering the skin. “No good answer here, then. Okay. Fine. Go. Leave. Or don’t. I’m too tired to do this.”

She dropped into the armchair, drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m just so tired, you know? It never seems to be good enough for anyone. I’m never  good enough. I never say the right things, or wear the right clothes, or go to the right schools—and that’s not me trying to make to you feel bad for being mad at me. You’re right. I got frustrated when you didn’t immediately answer because I’m embarrassed. I’m humiliated by the whole damn thing.” Her voice broke and she dropped her forehead against her knees. “I didn’t even know it was my money they took. I thought it was yours, and I figured, oh well. So what? And I took it. I always take it from them. I don’t know how to stop.”

Some of the pulsing anger faded, though he remained irritated. “I don’t like they used me to steal from you,” he said, his tone clipped, and she lifted her head to look at him, the tear stains on her cheeks making his stomach feel strange. “I don’t know you. Not the way you want me to. But you’re a person and you were nice to me. You didn’t lie to me when I asked you questions. And you tried to help me. I don’t like that they’re using me to hurt you.” He paused, sat down carefully on the edge of the sofa. “They’re evicting you. You never said that.”

Elizabeth exhaled, her breath shaky. “Because that’s about me. Not you. You don’t live here anymore. You’re not paying the rent. It’s my home, and they’re taking it from me to make me leave town. They want me to go away. It’s what they’ve always wanted. I didn’t tell you because it’s not about you. Your name is on the lease, but you don’t remember signing it. You don’t know me,” she repeated gently. “You said it yourself. So why bother you with that? I told you about the bank account because it was how I found out about the conservatorship. Because you need to know that they control everything. Not because I ever thought it was my money they took.”

There was a logic to that and he could appreciate it. She’d put everything in a pile that was about him and kept what was hers. “Yes. Okay. I understand that. Because they’re using my name to do it.”

“Yes. They are.” Elizabeth sighed, dropped her legs back to the ground. “I should have told Lila as soon as it happened, you know? Or Emily. The minute I got those divorce papers and I realized how far they’d gone. Monica wouldn’t have believed me, but maybe…but I didn’t.” She looked at him, her dark blue eyes still shining with tears she hadn’t yet shed. “I’m tired of being the reason Emily fights with her family, and for all that Lila’s taken my side, nothing would change. All it would do is cause them pain. Edward and Alan would just do whatever they want. Just like always.”

She scrubbed at her face, pushed herself up. “Okay, well that’s enough of all that. I don’t need that money. I didn’t earn it anyway. I wasn’t working.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “You talked to Justus. And he saw the papers, so he believes me. That’s good. He hasn’t been a Quartermaine long enough to be as ruthless as Alan and Edward.” When Jason frowned at her, Elizabeth clarified, “He didn’t know his father was Edward’s son until a few years ago. It was kept quiet mostly because Justus’s father died like twenty years ago, and they found his body—never mind. It’s not relevant. But he’s a great attorney. He’ll know how to help you. If there’s anything my divorce attorney can do for you, if there’s papers or anything, I don’t know, I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth walked towards the door, and Jason realized she was sending him away. Politely, but it didn’t change that she wanted to him to leave.

And he wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. There were still things that had to be said, weren’t they? Jason searched for a reason to stay, to ask her another question.

“Are there more pictures?” he said, and Elizabeth stopped, her hand falling away from the doorknob. She turned back, met his eyes with her brows drawn together quizzically. “You only brought two when you came to the club today.”

“I brought what I thought I needed — to prove what I was showing you.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “There are pictures, yeah. What do you want to see? I can—” Her voice tightened, and she looked away. “No. No, I can’t. I can’t show them to you. Um—” She pressed a fist to her heart. “Why do you want to see them? You said you didn’t know me. And you told everyone for months that you aren’t Jason Quartermaine anymore. That’s not who you are. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes,” Jason said warily. “But—”

“But you don’t get to have it both ways. I will tell you anything you want to know, okay? And I’ll show you whatever you want to make those facts real. Or explain anything you want. But I don’t look at those pictures anymore. I carried that one around with me, and I never looked at it. I can’t.” Her voice faltered, and she sucked in another deep breath. “They’re from a life that doesn’t exist anymore. You don’t remember it, and I wish I could forget it.”

“I—” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “You gave me her book. There were pictures in there.”

“I don’t look at that anymore. I won’t. You can keep it. You can burn in it. I don’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. Exhaled in a rush of breath that sounded ragged, though she wasn’t crying anymore. “You want to see it? Fine. Come with me.”

She spun on her heel, stalked across the living space to one of the doors tucked by the window. She threw it open, flicked on a light, but didn’t go inside. Kept her back to the door. Her eyes were empty now, the colors had faded from her cheeks, leaving her skin a stark white. “After I came home from the hospital, when they released me, I refused to come into the apartment because she was everywhere and I told you if you made me come in here, I’d throw myself out the window. You don’t remember that day. I do. It was a terrible, awful thing I said to you, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t see you. See anything past what was happening to me. So you took me to Luke’s, and said you’d handle it. You put everything in this room. I don’t go in here anymore. I pretend it’s not here. It’s easier that that way.”

She stepped aside, leaving the path to room open. Her back was to him, her face staring out the window.

Jason was frozen on the other side of the living room. Such a small space that felt impossibly huge. And he had a flash of empathy, of understanding of what he was doing by asking these questions. By pushing her to talk about this — to look at pictures —

He went to the door, turned off the light, and gently pulled the door shut. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped, and she slowly turned back to face him, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. “If you want to look at it—”

“I won’t ever remember her,” Jason said, and she closed her eyes. “I think I want to, but the doctors say it’s not possible. It’s not amnesia. I won’t ever remember her. It’s not fair to put you through this just so I can maybe one day feel a connection to her. To Cady,” he said, the name feeling strange on his lips and that was a sad fact, he thought. He didn’t know anything about being a father, but a child’s name should be a familiar sound. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, the movement slow and jerky. “It’s, um, a very weird situation we’re in, and I get it. There’s, um, legal stuff that still ties us together and I know that has to be handled. I know it. And you’re very kind to even…” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “You’ve been very kind to show any interest in what happened before your accident outside of what Alan and Edward are doing. But this is really hard for me.” She lifted her eyes to him, and while he wasn’t always very good at understanding what someone was feeling, the pain in her gaze felt like a punch to his gut. “You’re not my husband anymore. He died that night in December. I loved him very much. You have his face, his DNA, his voice, and maybe some of his personality, time will tell. But you don’t love me anymore.”

“No,” Jason said, though it didn’t require a response.

Elizabeth swiped at her tears. “This is why Luke made you come to the club. He knew I had to face it. I don’t—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I knew what the doctors said. I knew what Emily had told me — I knew you didn’t remember me. But until you were standing in front of me the other day, I didn’t know I didn’t believe it. I thought I was special, somehow. That I could transcend medicine — that what we had, who we were to each other —” She shook her head, her low laughter almost derisive. “I thought you’d know me even when you didn’t know anyone else. I was holding on to that silly thought, and Luke knew it. And I didn’t. I didn’t know I was clutching that dream so tight so that I wasn’t breathing. I wasn’t living.”

Elizabeth abruptly turned, went to the kitchen, and switched on the faucet. She splashed water on her face a few times, then reached for a towel to dry it. Jason remained where he was, standing by the closed door.

“You should still work at Luke’s. It’s a good job, and Luke’s a really good boss. But I’m going to ask him to schedule you for Claude’s shifts. I’m sorry,” she added. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you get out of the conservatorship. We’ll sign the divorce papers. And you can be free to be whoever you want. But I can’t work with you. It’s not fair to you—”

“I decide what’s fair to me,” Jason cut in, unsure why the thought of not seeing her at the club, of knowing that she was going to cut herself out of his life all over again. He’d only known her for a handful of days, but it seemed wrong to go back to not knowing her.

“It’s not fair to me,” Elizabeth said, and he had nothing to say to that. “Because I still love you. And I don’t know how to stop. So, I’ll let my attorney know he can talk to Justus, and I’ll do whatever you want,” she repeated. “But I think maybe I need to keep my distance. For my own sanity. I need to move on, I need to know if I even can. So if you could just go, and not argue with me, I’d appreciate it.”

+29

Written in 61 minutes.

With the cordless phone pressed against her ear, Elizabeth tucked a half gallon of milk under her arm and picked up the box of cookies with her free hand. “No, Em, I’m not mad at you—”

“Because I could have told Ned he was wrong.” Emily’s voice, thin and a bit faded over the connection between Port Charles and Berkeley. “Grandmother and I both thought about it—”

“And I told you that it was okay.” Elizabeth set the cookies and milk on the coffee table, then went back into the kitchen to find a wide mug to dunk her snack. Because a girl needed her comforts and she was out of tequila. And vodka.

She curled up on the sofa, folding her legs underneath her, then reached for a throw to throw over the legs left bare by her lounge shorts. “You told me how angry he was—we all agreed it might have made things worse. And…you know, I didn’t want to do that.”

“I know. I wish you’d told us about Dad keeping you out of the hospital. Grandmother is still furious—” Emily paused. “You really need to stop protecting us. We know how insane our family is. When they bother you—”

“I don’t want to cause problems,” Elizabeth said. She ripped open the plastic protecting the sleeve of cookies. “I still don’t. I can handle your family, Em. I’ve been doing it my whole life—”

“This isn’t like when we were in high school, Liz, and they gave money to the school so that you and I wouldn’t be in the same homeroom. Keeping you out of the hospital was really awful. I can’t believe they’d go so far!”

And Emily’s tears and the fights she’d had with her family had sealed the deal for Elizabeth — she wasn’t going to tell her best friend what new evil her family was up to. Emily and Lila were really the only members of the family she could count on. Ned was nice enough, but he was the gatekeeper. The protector. It was his job to clean up the messes — AJ had been quietly shipped off to a luxurious European rehab the day after the accident. She’d never been able to vent her frustration and anger at the alcoholic who’d destroyed what was left of her life.

And what could Emily do in California? What would Lila be able to do? Fume at Edward? Show disapproval? Lila had always taken Elizabeth’s side, and it hadn’t stopped Alan or Edward from doing worse the next time around.

“Well, where did you leave things with Jason? Did you even talk about what you’re going to do with the…I mean, you’re married.”

“I assure you—” Elizabeth sighed. “I didn’t forget that. And no, we didn’t get that far. I…pushed harder than I should have, Em. I’m just giving you some heads up in case you talk to Jason.”

“When I get home for spring break—”

“I know, I know. You’ll fix everything.”

“Call me, okay? When you talk to Jason again. Or no, beep me, okay? Because then I’ll call you and it’ll be my turn to take the charge.”

“You just had to go to college in California,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll call you next week—”

“And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll call on Saturday.”

Elizabeth tossed the phone on the other side of the sofa, then stared at the cookies and milk she’d set up for herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone to the trouble of putting together something to eat and lost her appetite before taking a single bite.

She returned the milk and cookies to the kitchen, set the mug in the sink, and stared at the drain for a long moment. The last six months had been such a strange fog, she thought. One foot in front of the other — and most of the time, she hadn’t really remembered anything.

Not since she’d opened her eyes in a hospital room last November, and Jason had told her about the accident. Since he’d told her Cady was gone.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Not for the first time, she wished she’d been in the car with Jason and AJ that night and that the memories had been taken from them both. Their first wedding anniversary had been two weeks earlier, and Elizabeth had worked through it — ignoring the date for as long as she could. Until she’d gone home and retrieved the mail to find a postcard from a well-meaning friend of Jason’s from college who hadn’t been kept in the loop. He’d wished them a happy anniversary and hoped to see them when he came to the area that summer.

Elizabeth didn’t have a lot of delusions about what came next. Jason would take the information she’d given him, and he’d go to court where any sane judge would see he didn’t need a conservatorship. He’d get it dissolved and he’d be free. The only question would be whether it would be before or after the divorce went through —

Or her eviction.

She swept her eyes around the apartment. It had been Jason’s before they moved into together. He’d signed the lease after graduating from Stanford as proof to her that she wasn’t some summer fling before he went back to California to medical school. He’d always planned to come home to Port Charles, and she’d just been a bonus to those plans.

But she’d made it hers over the last year — artwork, photos, splashes of color— it was theirs, and they’d made it a home. But it had always  been in Jason’s name — and now she was paying for a rash choice not to renew the lease in both their names.

The knock at the door caught her attention, and she sighed, hoping it wasn’t Sonny or Luke to check on her.  They’d already called a few times she’d a message that she and Claude were switching shifts that night.

She pulled the door open, then simply stared at the man on the other side — who had never, ever knocked on this door before.

Because it was his apartment.

“Jason.”

—

“Lois, I don’t know why we have to argue about this—” Ned Ashton pulled open the door in mid-sentence, waved Justus inside, then turned back to his wife without missing a beat. “If you want to go on tour, go on tour.”

“You don’t have a single thing to say about me going off around the world for maybe three or four months?” Lois fisted her hands at her hips, tapped her foot. “Listen here—”

“Is this a bad time?” Justus asked. “Because—”

“No. This is a perfect time. I have to go to the Outback and talk to Brenda anyway. But we’re not done arguing.” Lois glared at her husband, then left, slamming the door behind her.

“I will never understand woman,” Ned muttered. “She wants to go on tour, I tell her, hey go on tour! And somehow that means I’m not committed to our marriage—”

“Well, you know there was that one time when you were married to someone else at the same time,” Justus said. “You can understand how she has trust issues.”

Ned scowled at his cousin. “Did you come over to make fun of me or—”

Justus set the file he’d retrieved from Jason on the desk by the window. “Remember when we agreed for the good of the order that telling Jason he had a wife could wait? And everyone, including Alan and Edward, thought it was a great idea?”

“Yeah, it rings a distant bell. Did Jason find out?”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I got involved. At the time, you and I both thought it was a little weird that Alan and Edward weren’t leaping at the chance to fill Jason’s head with all kinds of horror stories about Elizabeth. This was before they realized Jason was never going to listen to a damn thing they said.”

“Yeah, but then we found out Alan barred her from the hospital—I wish she’d told us. I’d have helped her fight it—” Ned stopped, looked at Justus. “What did they do?”

“Oh, you might want to sit for this.” Justus held up a piece of paper. “Elizabeth was barred from the hospital not on the power of the board of directors but through a power of attorney. Alan petitioned to be put in charge of all the decisions. And then, a week later, when Jason woke up without a memory…” He held up another piece of paper. “We get our first petition from the probate court asking for a conservatorship to be declared over the person and estate of Jason Morgan Quartermaine.”

Ned waited a long beat, then nodded. He crossed to the mini bar against the back wall, poured himself a glass of vodka and passed another to Justus. “Conservatorship. Christ. The damage they could do—”

“The damage they did do. First, they closed Elizabeth and Jason’s checking accounts. Joint and separate. They put all of the funds into Jason’s trust fund.”

Some of the liquid sloshed over the edge as Ned simply stared. “The hell—”

“I need to do some more forensic accounting, but I’m pretty sure they stole around three grand from Elizabeth that had nothing to do with Jason’s money. Then they filed for divorce—”

“Divorce—”

“And eviction.” Justus slapped this last notice down. “Since the second Jason woke up from that coma, Alan and Edward have been systematically stripping Elizabeth of every single resource she might use to fight them…or stay in Port Charles long enough to tell Jason who she is.”

“You were right. I need to sit.” Ned sank onto the sofa, then tossed back half the vodka. “Let me—let me get this straight. For the last two months—”

“Ten weeks,” Justus corrected. “Jason woke up ten weeks ago. They filed a conservatorship after he woke up. The next day, so there’s no argument they didn’t know.”

“Christ.” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why didn’t she—”

“Has Elizabeth ever once asked for our help when it comes to this family? No. She doesn’t want Emily or Lila in the middle.” Justus exhaled slowly. “This is just the court documents she has access to. But I bet if we talk to Ruby and Jake —”

“I wish I could tell you that they’re not that conniving — that they wouldn’t try to bankrupt Elizabeth into leaving town but—” Ned grimaced, rose to his foot. “They wanted Jason to stay under their control long enough to keep Elizabeth away from him. He knows about this now? He knows about Elizabeth?”

“Yeah. He knows about enough of it. And I’m going to help him learn whatever else there is to know. Are you in?”

Ned finished the last of his drink. “Where do we start?”

—

He wasn’t really sure how or why he’d ended up at the apartment — only that he’d seen the address on one of the bank statements Justus hadn’t taken with him, and Jason had too many questions that he needed answered.

And Luke could only supply a few reluctant ones. The rest…

Elizabeth clearly hadn’t been expecting company — her face was wiped clean, and she looked younger without the makeup she’d worn every other time he’d seen her — the deep red lipstick, the liner around her eyes —

Her hair had been piled on top of her head, pieces falling loose, hanging down her neck and laying across her cheek. She wore a pair of pink cotton shorts and a t-shirt in a matching color, her feet bare with toenails painted the color of candy bubble gum he’d seen at Kelly’s.

“I would have called,” Jason said when she remained silent, only staring at him. “But I didn’t know your number. And Luke…wouldn’t give it to me.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, then stepped back. “Um, come in. I guess. If you want. I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

He walked past her, and she closed the door, turning and leaning against it. “I called Justus when you left. He’s going to look at everything.”

“Oh. Okay. That makes sense. Um, he probably knows more than I do. My lawyer is from the strip mall on Courtland Street, so I don’t know—” Elizabeth rubbed her arms. “I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t really have anything.”

“That’s fine.” Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Luke was paying you, did you know that?”

Her brows drew together over her eyes and she shook her head slightly. “What? When?”

“He never stopped,” Jason said. “You went on maternity leave. And Luke kept paying. You never missed a paycheck.”

“No, he—” Elizabeth squinted. “No. I didn’t—I didn’t really…I didn’t know that. I was…” She flattened a hand over her belly, almost curled protectively as if she were pregnant. “I was really tired by the end. And you, um, Luke said he’d take care of the details with you. I guess those were details. I didn’t know that.” Elizabeth walked past him, back towards the sofa. She picked up a yellow and orange throw blanket that had been tossed on the sofa and began to fold it, her expression still strained. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah. It does. Justus took some of the bank stuff, but he left some of it, too. I found one from June. You said there was a trust fund.”

“Yeah. Yeah—” Elizabeth exhaled, tossing the blanket over the back of the sofa. “Quarterly. I don’t remember what you said the amount was. You used it for tuition and bills—”

“It went into savings in June,” Jason said, and she looked at him. “And the July statement. There’s a payment for the university which took most of the money. You said the Quartermaines thought you were…”

“A gold digger,” she said faintly, her eyes trained on his face. “I know that you wanted to pay for medical school on your own. It was important to you not to use your parents’ money or take out loans. And you said something about using your trust fund, and that whatever was left over, we’d put into the joint account for us both. And I knew my paycheck was regular, so I just figured between the two of us, we were fine. And we were…”

“Justus looked at the bank statements. You were paying for almost everything, Elizabeth,” Jason said. “Why didn’t you tell them that? Why didn’t anyone tell them that? The money they took when they closed that account in January? It was yours. The trust fund was never released at the end of December. They stopped it because of the accident.”

“I don’t—I never paid attention to the money. You did all of that. Maybe that’s stupid,” she muttered.  She sank onto the sofa. “It was, of course, it was. And it makes me madder that they took my money, but that’s my fault for not knowing what was mine or yours, or I don’t know. I didn’t care.” She glanced up at him. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. We were married. We took care of each other. Maybe I was carrying the everyday bills, but you were going to a doctor. It would even out later—and—I don’t—”

Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I don’t care about that,” she repeated. “But you came all the way over here because you do. Why? Why does it matter to you? It was my money. You don’t even know me. So what are you doing here?”

+31

Written in 63 minutes.

Elizabeth would have made a clean exit from the building if not for Mike Corbin leaving the storage room. She crashed into him and nearly went to the floor but the older man took her by the elbow and kept her upright.

“Whoa, honey. What are you in such a rush for?”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t want to. The rush of righteous anger had evaporated, and everything was swirling, crawling up her throat, and if she opened her mouth, it would just pour out and she might never close it all up again—

“Come here. Come on. Come into the kitchen.” Gently, Mike ushered down the back hallway into the club’s kitchen. Though Luke’s wasn’t known for its cuisine, it served the basic bar dishes and the burgers weren’t half bad, especially after a few drinks.  Mike was the kitchen manager — a position Luke had given him to keep Mike and Sonny, his son, from coming into contact all that much.

Mike pushed her onto a stool in the prep area and went to the sink to pour a glass of water. “You were coming from upstairs, so I guess you had a run in with Jason.”

Elizabeth nodded, sipped the water, but still didn’t trust her voice. Mike sat across from her, folded his arms, and looked at her kindly. “I argued with Luke, you know. And to the extent Michael listens to me when I have something to say, I argued with him, too. I don’t think it was fair to push you or Jason into dealing with each other until you were ready.”

She closed her eyes. “Jason didn’t have any idea about the conservatorship,” she admitted, and was relieved when her words were steady. “I mean, I figured as much, but it was…I did too much, Mike. I pushed too much on him, just like the Quartermaines, and I told myself I wouldn’t, but I just—”

She pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, the other hand gripping the glass tightly. “He was looking at the picture of us. We took one photo of us, one professional one, I mean. Just before the accident. I wanted it for our Christmas card. The first one as a family, and I had in my wallet, and I shoved it at him to prove what I was saying — and he just stared at it—”

“I know the picture, honey.” Mike reached into his back pocket, retrieved his own wallet. “We all carry it, you know. I was proud when you gave me a copy. To be included.”

Elizabeth took the photo he handed her. “It’s just—he stared at it, and I thought he wanted to know her, and then I realized he didn’t want to be told things. He wanted to know them. And so…I gave him so much—” She smiled wanly. “Marriage and birth certificates. His medical school stuff. Bank statements. Legal records. The baby book. I wanted him to know her. I just—” She bit her lip. “I wanted him to love her again, and it’s selfish because I know it’s not possible—”

“Why not, honey? Why couldn’t he look at all of that, and feel how much he’d loved that little girl?” Mike asked. He put a hand on her wrist. “It’s not selfish to want to share that—”

“It is selfish, Mike. Because I’m alone with it all now—I know you…I know you all cared and loved her. You’re my family. But it’s not the way Jason and I—and now it’s just me, so it’s selfish to drag him back into it. But I just thought…” She sipped her water. “He only asked about the hospital. Why I wasn’t there. I should have given him the legal stuff and left, but he was asking questions, and I just—I thought for a minute…”

“He’d remember?”

“No. Yes. No. I know it’s not possible. It’s not amnesia. I know he’s not the same. I can see it, you know? The way he holds himself, the way he looks — it just isn’t the same.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “And he can’t…the labels on the bottles, and pictures. I know he has injuries that aren’t going to heal. Processing, I think. And the memories — they’re not locked up waiting to be found. They’re gone. I know that. But I just—”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t ready for what it would be like. To sit across from him, to have all that history, and know I’m the only one who carries it now. It was harder than I thought, and I went too far. I tried too hard to make him know who he used to be, and now he’s angry at me, and I feel terrible.”

“Then you let him have a few minutes,” Mike said, patting her hand again. “A day maybe. You let him be, and let him come to you. You gave him a lot to process, honey, and now you need to let him do it. Patience. Which isn’t something you’re good at.”

“No.” And now she smiled faintly. “I know that. It’s why we were such a good match, you know? I was impulsive and reckless, and Jason was contemplative and patient, and we balanced. Now…we’re nothing, and it’s…losing him all over again.” She sighed, gave him back the photo. “But you’re right. I gave him a lot of information. What he does with it—that’ll be his choice. Thanks, Mike.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

——

While waiting for Justus Ward, another one of the cousins, Jason ignored the papers Elizabeth had brought, leaving them piled on the small kitchen table. Instead, he sat on the tiny twin bed and paged through one of the magazines he’d found in Luke’s office. He liked to read, he thought, because the letters were in simple, clear, print and they made sense to him.

Maybe he’d get a library card. Or did he have one? Probably. He’d be able to do that now that he had an address. He didn’t know why that mattered, only that it did. One of those mysterious pieces of knowledge he didn’t always understand, but knew to be true.

The only thing he’d kept away from the table had been the baby book. It sat on the little square table next to the bed next to a brass-plated lamp. Jason had already read it twice, and knew there wasn’t anything more to find in it, but there was something about it that he didn’t quite want to let go of.

He’d have to return it to Elizabeth at some point — she remembered the baby, and he didn’t, so it was hers. But for now—

The knock came almost two hours after the phone call, and Jason hurried to pull open the door. Justus stood on the other side, a few inches taller and a handful of years older. He’d graduated from law school, Jason remembered. Had practiced for a few years. He’d understand the documents.

“Sorry, I had a meeting with a client.” Justus stepped in, his dark suit rumpled. He pulled at the tie around his neck. “You said you had something for me to look at?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Jason closed the door. “But first, I need you to answer two questions.” He turned to look at the cousin. His cousin, Jason tried to remember, though he wasn’t sure if he was ready to claim that. There was the legal and biological relationship, which he understood. Justus’s father had been Bradley Ward, brother to Alan and son of Edward. Which made him a cousin.

But being a cousin didn’t mean Jason to claim him as his, and the distinction mattered in his head. He didn’t really know why, only that it was more comfortable to think about the relationships in clear terms.

“What’s up?” Justus looked around the room. “Luke really could have done more with this place, but I’m not surprised he didn’t.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need much. My questions.” Jason considered the wording. He didn’t want to be angry. He’d been angrier earlier, more angry than he should have been, and he didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be out of control. To hurt people, and Elizabeth had been hurt. He needed to try harder. He would try harder. “Why didn’t you tell me about Elizabeth and did you know Alan and Edward went to court and got a conservatorship?”

Justus’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “A conservatorship? What the—Are you kidding me? What the hell?”

The reaction felt sincere, so Jason decided to believe him. He crossed to the table, sifted through the pile until he found the folder Elizabeth had given him. “Elizabeth. She got divorce papers from the court. Filed on behalf of the conservatorship.”

“You’ve got to be joking—” Justus cross to him, yanked the paper from Jason’s hand, though the action and words didn’t feel directed as Jason, so he didn’t take offense. “Holy fuck,” his cousin said, scanning the opening lines. “This—yeah, okay. That’s what this document is saying.” He looked at Jason. “No, I sure as hell didn’t know about this! And I can guarantee no one else in the family does either! Ned would have roasted their nuts for this!”

Some of the tightness eased in Jason’s chest. He hadn’t liked most of the family, but he’d understood them. The cousins. The sister. They’d all been nice. And the grandmother. He wouldn’t have minded calling them his, except they were connected to the father and the grandfather, and Jason didn’t want them.

“You didn’t know.”

“No. And neither did Lila or Emily. They never would have gone for this. Or kept it from you—” Justus hesitated. “Though considering we didn’t talk about Elizabeth, maybe you don’t believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Jason said. “It’s been three months, and no one said anything about her until yesterday. There was a letter and it had my name on it. Hers, too. Together.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Justus rubbed his jaw, then sat in the chair. “Yeah, well, it was kind of…it was a decision after a certain point. But not at first. I—” He set the paperwork down. “The first few days, you were in the ICU, you know? And we couldn’t get in. Visitors were limited, and when Emily didn’t hear from Elizabeth, she just figured Liz was living there. Camping out. And dealing with the family,” Justus muttered. “Which was never easy for her, but she would have done it. We didn’t know until you woke up that Elizabeth had never been allowed in the ward.”

Jason frowned. “Why didn’t she tell you? If she’d told you and the others—”

“We would have gone straight to Lila who would have shamed Edward,” Justus said immediately. “To the extent that Edward, Alan, or Monica ever accepted or tolerated Elizabeth, it was because of Lila. And Lila never would have allowed this. I know she seems sweet and gentle—and she is, but Lila rules with an iron fist. But, like I said, by the time we knew, you were awake and you didn’t remember anything. And things were bad. You seemed to hate any mention of before the accident.”

Jason made a face, sat down in the other chair, stared at his hands. ‘That’s still mostly true,” he said. “But—”

“Ned was worried, and I agreed—we talked about it first. We were both worried about Liz. I know you don’t like talking about before, but if you know about Elizabeth, then maybe you know…that she’s not the only, uh, family you had.”

“I know about…” Jason paused. “Cady. That’s…we called her Cady?”

“Yeah.” Justus smiled now, though it was sad. “I don’t want to get into all of it right now. But losing her pretty much decimated Liz, and she was only just kind of coming around, you know? No, you don’t know. Sorry.” He paused. “We were worried you’d be angry. That telling you that you’d been married, that you had a daughter—it would be like pressure. And you had enough of that. But you were lashing out in the beginning, Jason. At Emily, Lila—anyone who talked to you.”

“I—”

“And I’m not blaming you for that. I’m not. I can’t pretend to understand what was happening or what you were going through. I wouldn’t have the first clue. But Ned and I felt protective of Liz after everything she’d already been through, and then she told us that Alan had pretty much kept her out of the hospital—she didn’t tell Emily because she didn’t want to cause problems. I don’t know, I think we just…decided that it was better to leave it alone. Emily and Lila agreed—reluctantly. I don’t know if it was the right decision, Jason, and I’m sorry if you feel like it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said slowly. “I don’t know if there would have been a good time. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter now. I just wanted to hear it from you. I—” He looked back at the table. “Edward and Alan have this power that I didn’t give them. Control. I’ve been kicked out of places to live, lost jobs. I don’t even know how Luke or Sonny are going to keep them from doing the same now—” He grimaced. “And Elizabeth said it was her fault. That they started it to keep her away.”

“That would track,” Justus murmured, picking up the divorce papers. “They were furious when you didn’t make her sign a prenuptial agreement.” At Jason’s mystified look, Justus added, “a contract you sign before marriage. How to distribute property and money after a divorce. You didn’t have much except your trust fund, and you figured that wasn’t your money anyway. You’d use it because it was there, but it didn’t matter to you. But it mattered to Edward. He tried to force it through ELQ, and failed. You didn’t talk to him for three months.” Justus set the papers down again. “Anyway. A conservatorship isn’t easy to get — or it’s not supposed to be.”

“Can you get me out of it?”

“I don’t…I’d have to look at how it was structured. It’s…you’re fine. You shouldn’t be in one—” Justus furrowed his brow. “And how can they pursue a divorce…” He continued to sift through the folder. “Or an eviction?”

“An eviction?” Jason sat up. “What?”

“Elizabeth’s being evicted from the apartment, according to this—” Justus skimmed. “The conservatorship is petitioning to break the lease which they can do since it’s your name. And she’s technically your tenant. I’d have to look into that, but that doesn’t exactly feel right since she’s…huh…” Justus flipped to another document. “They closed your joint bank account?”

“That’s what Elizabeth said.” Jason leaned forward. “Why?”

“No, it’s just…that’s strange. You don’t have an income other than a quarterly allowance from the trust fund. You’ve been going to school,” Justus added. “But Elizabeth’s always been working. She makes good money at Luke’s—” He rifled through a few more documents, found the stack of bank statements. “Oh, good she brought you these. Yeah, look at December.” He tapped the paper. “I remember you telling me that you were putting the trust  funds away — it was tuition and big expenses, but you were mostly putting it into savings. Elizabeth was paying for the monthly stuff. The rent, the utilities — Luke and Sonny pay her a manager’s salary. A generous one, but she also cleans up in tips.”

Justus handed the paper to Jason. “Luke paid her through her maternity leave, and kept on paying her even after…in December, she didn’t work. But he paid her salary anyway. All the money coming into this account — it matches her income. Not the trust fund. But they closed it anyway and took the money.”

Jason’s stomach felt strange. There was a swirling ache that was uncomfortable and almost twisting. “They really…but she told me that I was taking care of the bills. That she wasn’t working.”

“No, these are her paychecks—” Justus showed him the entry. “See? Do you think she didn’t know Luke and Sonny were still paying her full wages? I mean, you handled the finances because you like numbers and she doesn’t. Maybe she really didn’t know. She just knew there was money in the account.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Jason looked at the statements. “She talked about Luke and Sonny offering to loan her money for lawyers, but she never said if she took it.” He had questions now, but the only person who could answer any of it was Elizabeth. “Will you help me sort it out?”

“Yeah. Yeah, this is diabolical. Can I take this stuff? I’ll go through it, get a better sense. I can get the case numbers, all of that.”

“Yeah. That’s fine. Whatever you want. I just…I want to be able to control my own life. And Elizabeth…I want them to leave her alone. I don’t—” She was the wife, Jason thought. Not his wife, but someone’s. And Alan and Edward were using Jason to make her miserable when she’d been trying to leave Jason alone. She hadn’t pressured him until he’d forced her to. They were trying to take her home the way they’d taken his place to live, too. And maybe they’d stolen her money. “Make them leave both of us alone.”

“I’ll do what I can, Jason. Let me look into this. Give me a day or two, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

+33

Written in 59 minutes.

He’d known, of course, that there had to be a good reason why he’d been fired from three jobs at the docks and turned out of at least two places to stay, despite having the money to pay. He’d had help from the cousin, Ned, in getting some money from the trust fund everyone always talked about to he could pay for Kelly’s, and the paychecks could pay for Jake’s. But both woman had turned him out, and at least two of the warehouses had just stopped putting him on the schedule after the first week.

He’d just thought it was the power of the Quartermaines — he’d heard enough about the family since being awake, had seen the way the doctors at the hospital deferred to them, but it had never occurred to Jason that there was more than that.

But now, holding a piece of paperwork that didn’t make any sense, Jason saw the last two and half months in a completely different light. If he’d been legally married prior to the accident, how could someone else petition for divorce? Or—

“I don’t understand,” Jason said after a long moment. He set the paperwork down, met Elizabeth’s nervous eyes. “How does that happen? What is a conservatorship?”

“I don’t—it’s so complicated, and they didn’t really—” She bent down again to tug another folder. “I went to the law library to see if I could find the statutes they wrote in that paper, but it still didn’t make sense. I printed it because I wanted to read it. As soon as I gave that to my lawyer — the one that did the power of attorney letter, they dropped my case.” Elizabeth slid papers across the small table, but Jason just shook his head. “You don’t…believe me?”

“I—” He didn’t know what to think, so he picked it up, but the print was small and the wording was complicated. Why did they always—”

The legislature hereby finds that the needs of persons with incapacities are as diverse and complex as they are unique to the individual…The determination of incapacity shall be based on clear and convincing evidence and shall consist of a determination that a person is likely to suffer harm..

“Does this mean they went to a court and said I was…” Incapacity. Damaged. Limited. His fingers tightened around the paper. “I’m not.” Or was he? A court should have evidence? Jason had ignored doctors who told him things, but—

“I was confused when I read that because it made it sound so…” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, then rubbed her arms. “Anyway. I was reading it, and it said you were supposed to have a representative at the court. Someone who isn’t one of the conservators, so I tried to get the records, but I was denied. It’s all under seal. I don’t know if the hearing was fair. I do know the Quartermaines have a lot of friends in high places. All I know is that Alan still have power of you as a person, with medical stuff, and Edward is over your estate. Um, the power to contract. You can’t…not legally…do anything without him.”

He set the paper down, dragged his hands through his hair. It made sense, a horrible sense, and he wondered how many people had been lying to him. How many people in that damn house had known about this? Had the grandmother, Lila, who had been so kind to him? The sister—

He had no doubts about Alan or Edward—

“It’s my fault,” Elizabeth said, drawing his attention back to her. “If I hadn’t pushed, you know. With the power of attorney. Maybe they would have been okay with cutting me out. If they’d known you’d wake up without your memories…maybe—” She stared down at the table, tracing a nick in the wood with her thumbnail. “But I did. I got a lawyer. I was just…desperate for answers, and they weren’t telling Emily or Ned anything because they thought I’d find out…and I just…I should have left it alone. But I made Edward mad. And they went to do this—”

She jerked her head at the folder he still hadn’t looked through. “The legal stuff is in all there. I didn’t…know what to do. There’s not a lot of lawyers who will take on the Quartermaines. Even though Luke and Sonny offered to loan me money — I thought about asking Ned, but what if he knows? What if he…” Her voice trembled. “They did it to you to get rid of me, you know? The first thing they did was close the bank accounts. I never touched your trust fund. At least I don’t think so. You used to put money in the account, and you were doing the bills because I was maternity leave, and then after the accident—” She shoved her hair from her face, combing her fingers through the strands. “I don’t know. I couldn’t do anything.”

Jason didn’t know what to say to any of this. It was a life he didn’t know or understand. But the trust fund — “They thought you wanted the money,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, um…I mean, there were a lot of reasons they didn’t like me. It wasn’t so bad when Emily and I were friends. At first, they thought maybe I was bad influence on her, but she kept being an honors student, so they let it go.” Elizabeth twisted a ring on her finger. “But you…you brought me a New Year’s Eve party last year and it was like I was a serial killer.” Her smile was faint. “I wasn’t good enough.”

“Why?” Jason shook his head. “What did they care?”

“Oh—” Elizabeth jerked a shoulder. “A lot of things. I’m a Webber, but I’m a shame to my family, especially if you ask my parents. I paid, like, zero attention in school, barely got to graduation. I was a waitress, and now I’m a bartender…nothing like my sister Sarah who they basically picked out for you—” She winced. “Anyway, it’s all….it just boils down to this. They think I’m a gold digger who got pregnant to trap you and get my hands on your trust fund, and their worst nightmare came true when you married me.” She smiled ruefully. “Alan offered me money to leave town, but I refused, and he’s always been angry he couldn’t get rid of me the way he did Nikki.”

“Nikki?” Jason echoed, bewildered. He’d lost track of the conversation entirely. “Who—”

“When we were still in high school, AJ was going to marry this girl. Nikki Langton. She probably was trying to get to AJ for the money, but Alan paid her to go away, and she went.” Elizabeth picked at her nails, looking away from him. “It was a little better when Cady was born. You know, Edward has his issues, but he really does love his family. He just…wants to control them, you know? He thinks he knows best. But…well, any chance of things getting better…”

Elizabeth dragged in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into all of that. Especially when I can’t…I can’t prove any of it, right? And that’s what you wanted. You wanted to make up your own mind. I thought maybe if you wanted someone to read through that or you know what you’re looking for now, you could…for yourself. Decide what you want. I mean, listen, the conservatorship was a horrible thing, I thought, but since the only thing Edward’s done with it is to get rid of me, maybe you don’t mind—”

“I got fired from my job because of it,” Jason said flatly, and she looked at him, her eyes wide. “Kicked out of Jake and Kelly’s. He wanted to force me back into that house. It’s not just about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t…Emily hasn’t told me much. I didn’t want to know,” Elizabeth confessed, her cheeks flushing and her eyes averting again. “And Luke and Sonny really just said people were being pressured, though I guess I knew it was part of this. I just…I know why it started, so I was blaming myself for all of it—” She closed her eyes. “Being selfish. Just like always. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She swiped at her cheeks, brushing away the few tears that had escaped. “Well, you know everything now. Or at least you know what I know. And you have access to anything else.”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to think or feel — it was all muddled and confusing again. There was still so much else he didn’t know — and maybe plenty he didn’t want to know. And he didn’t like how he kept making her cry.

“What else is in the bag?” Jason said finally, noticing that her tote wasn’t entirely empty. “You said I had everything.”

“Oh. I didn’t know what else to bring, so—” Elizabeth pulled out the last few files. “Um…I looked in your desk at the apartment, and I don’t know. There were financial things. The taxes from last year, and you were keeping a folder for this year, though I might need that back—” Her brow furrowed. “That’s next month, isn’t it? I don’t…there are bank statements. You never threw anything out. I thought you…might want to see for yourself about the trust funds. And you have the bank now, maybe you could ask for other accounts—there’s more stuff at the apartment—” She tapped the bottom file. “And this is college stuff. Um, you went to Stanford for undergrad, and you were in PCU for med school. I don’t know if you wanted it, but it was part of the story, and I just…”

There was too much on the table. Too much history he didn’t want, and now he regretted ever hinting he wanted to find out things for himself, because she’d actually listened and now there was too much. There was a life here, proof and evidence of everything that he’d never ever remember.

Jason shoved away from the table, and a few things fell to the floor. “I didn’t ask for all of this.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s face drained of color and she looked down at the table. “Oh. Right. I did…it’s…more than you asked for. You just asked about the hospital, and I’m sorry—I just I didn’t want to…” Her hands were shaking as she started to shove things back into the bag. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave anything out because people always do that and then I did too much. I just…you tell me what you want to keep and I’ll take the rest—”

“Just stop—” Jason held up his hands. “Stop. Okay? I don’t know. I don’t want any of this! I don’t know you, and I don’t know what any of this is! I don’t care how much paper you shove in front me, I’m not going to remember you!”

“I didn’t…” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then rose to her feet. “I wasn’t trying to make you remember,” she said, though her voice seemed steadier now. And now she was looking at him. “You know, there’s no manual or instructions for how to do this, okay? Unless you have one you want to share, I’m just trying to figure this out the same way you are! You aren’t the only person whose entire life ended three months ago, okay? You don’t remember anything, fine. But I do. And I’m doing my best. You tell me when to back off, and I’ll do that. But don’t yell at me for trying to give you what I thought you wanted.”

He fisted his hands at his side. She was right, of course she was, but there was all this pressure inside, this tightness, and he just wanted to hurt someone—he wanted it to go away— “I’m telling you to back off.”

“Then I’m backing off.” She yanked her purse up. “You keep the papers. Throw them out, burn them, I don’t care—”

And then she left, slamming the door so hard that it rattled in the frame. The room was silent now, the air was gone, and all that was left was the information she’d dumped on him.

Jason exhaled slowly, then crouched down to pick up what he’d knocked from the table — the first few things he’d looked at. The marriage certificate…and the baby book. He carried the book over to the bed, and sat down, cracking open the cover again.

On the first page, there was another copy of the birth certificate, pasted inside. He stopped to read it again. Cadence Audrey Quartermaine, born September 19, 1995 to Jason Morgan Quartermaine and Elizabeth Imogene Webber. Beneath the birth certificate, someone had written birthday twins! And then Jason remembered that he was supposed to be have been born on September 19, too.

There was more information about her birth — she’d been born at General Hospital at 9:25 AM. A Tuesday. She’d been six pounds and 13 ounces. A birth announcement that didn’t make any mention of her grandparents on either side, just of her parents.

A photograph under the page that said “My First Home” and Jason stopped to study it, to make the colors and lines and shapes make sense to him. They were standing on a street in front of a building — a brick one, he realized. Elizabeth’s face was pale, clean of any makeup, and she looked tired. He held the baby in his arms. She had almost no hair, and a yellow outfit.

There was a page of with a record of accomplishments — and most of it was blank. There was something so stark about it that sat with him. Makes known likes and dislikes – from birth. Follows movements with eyes – 5 weeks.

But there was nothing written next to recognizes mother and father or laughs aloud. The following pages were blank, too. First Christmas. First Birthday. It was empty.

It was a book meant for a long-lived life, with pages for weddings and school and jobs — but they were snow white. Empty. Nothing had been written on them. And nothing ever would.

He thought about that picture of himself standing in front of a building with a baby who hadn’t lived long enough to recognize her parents or even to laugh. He didn’t know yet exactly when this baby had died, only that it had been sometime in November. And then Jason gotten into the car just after Christmas.

He’d woken up into a world with nothing in it — no memories, no recognition of anyone he was supposed to know. And maybe for the first time, Jason could see there was a silver lining in that. He didn’t remember this baby, and wouldn’t have to live with that memory.

But now there was a heaviness hanging over him. Because he didn’t remember this baby. And there was a paper that said he’d been her father.  Photographs that proved he’d cared about her, about her mother.

And that mother had buried her child and lost her husband weeks later.

Jason closed the book, set it aside, and returned to the table stacked with documents and folders. She’d done too much, he thought, but she was the only person who had actually listened to him. Had heard what maybe he hadn’t understood either. That he needed to know these facts for himself —

How could he complain now because he had too many facts to digest?

Jason went to the plastic phone on the night stand. He wanted to know exactly how much the Quartermaines had known and he needed someone who could explain these legal papers to him—

And there weren’t that many people who could do both.

“Justus? Hey. Uh, you said if I ever needed anything—”

Note: I pulled my own baby book from the shelf in my office and used my own information, lol, for some of the milestones, and the page content.

+26

Written in 67 minutes.

He hadn’t wanted to hear their daughter’s names from her lips, but to read them for himself. It was that fact that swirled around in Elizabeth’s mind as Jason looked at her expectantly, still holding the one photo of her before life she allowed herself to carry around.

Elizabeth curled her palm around the identification bracelet, took a deep breath. How could she tell him all that had happened while he’d been in that terrible coma? How a tragedy begun the clashing of steel in the rain in November had just kept expanding like a black hole until it had swallowed everything in their lives whole—until there was nothing left today that had come before.

How did she tell Jason what his family had done to him, and how it could all be traced back to a night he’d walked into Luke’s and refused to leave, smiling and charming her into at least one date. If she’d just sent him away, oh, how different it would be now—

She swallowed hard, opened her mouth—but then stopped at the sound of footsteps from the back of the club. A moment later, Luke appeared, though he hesitated at the end of the bar, maybe sensing the tension in the air.

“Everything all right?” he asked cautiously.

Elizabeth lowered the hand with the bracelet to her side, then brushed at her tears with the other. “It’s—um, he knows Luke. Who I…was. Who—” Her voice trembled slightly. “He knows about Cady.”

“Cady?” Jason asked. “Is that…that’s what we called her?”

We. Oh, to hear that word from his lips—the tears spilled over again and she had to take a step back because he didn’t mean it, he didn’t. It wasn’t we the way it had been once, them against the world, but we as a historical fact that had ended. They’d had a daughter with a nickname they’d used—and now they didn’t.

“I need a minute. I need—” She darted past Luke, and away. Because this was so much harder than she’d ever imagined, and they’d barely scratched the surface.

——

Jason took a step forward, almost thinking of running after her, but Luke stepped in front of him, holding up a hand. “Let’s give her a minute to get sorted, all right? It’s been a hell these last six months. You got questions, maybe I can answer some.”

“Okay. Why did you give me this job?” Jason said. “You knew who I was. Who Elizabeth was.  Was that part of it?”

“Not the question I was expecting, but all right.” Luke came behind the bar, went for a bottle of Jack Daniels. “You want something?”

“An answer.”

“Tough crowd.” The brown liquid sloshed inside a short, clear glass and Luke took a sip. “All right. Lizzie was always mine, and if you tell her I called her that, I’ll deny it. But that’s who she’s been since she was a kid.” He held up a hand, using his index finger and thumb to make a gesture of measurement. “Since she was this big. Her dad is connected to my wife, Laura. Laura’s stepdad is Lizzie’s uncle, and that’s what we called her. Elizabeth was too long a name for a kid that was miniature from the moment she was born.”

“This isn’t answering my question—”

“You don’t like how I’m doing it—” Luke tipped his head. “There’s the door. Because you need to understand how this happened—”

“I just want you to tell me why—”

“And I’m doing that. Because she’s family to me, and Spencers take care of family. She came up with my boy, dated him for a while, but it didn’t work out. Her first job was at Kelly’s, the worst waitress the world has ever seen. But she kept going, and found she had a knack with people. Not with the actual delivering and taking of orders, but people? Lizzie could charm almost anyone.” Luke took another sip, then grimaced. “Not your family. But nearly everyone else. She came to me for a job because bartending was more people. As soon as she was legal, we hired her on. That was two years ago. So I was here when you came into the picture.”

He stared at the contents of his glass for a long moment. “I won’t talk about any of that. It’s not for me. But what happened in November hit us all. That little girl—well, as hard as hit me, it decimated Elizabeth. And you, if you want to know that.”

Jason didn’t like hearing that—didn’t like being told how he’d felt when he couldn’t remember it for himself. But he dropped his gaze to the photograph, saw the way his old self was holding the baby, and it stung a little less. Because it was an emotion that made sense. Someone who loved a baby—well it would hurt when they were gone, wouldn’t it?

“And just when I thought maybe Lizzie was starting to get herself together, maybe there’d be a light at the end of the tunnel, you got in that damn car with your brother. I cursed you for that, you know. Whatever faith in a higher power I ever had, well, that obliterated it. But you didn’t die. No, you didn’t have decency to make break clean,” Luke muttered, then took another sip. He wasn’t looking at Jason now, and Jason found himself appreciating this view of the accident. He’d been told how much he loved his brother, how much he’d wanted AJ to stop drinking, how he’d wanted to protect his family —

But Luke’s view seemed right. It was such a stupid decision. Who would be dumb enough to get into a car with someone too drunk to drive?

“I won’t get into what happened then. That’s for her to handle, and it’s her story. But it makes me furious. I’ll be interested in what you think of it once you have the facts.” Luke finished his drink. “But Lizzie wasn’t dealing with it. She was hiding here, maybe hoping she’d never have to look at you. And I knew—Sonny and I both knew it wasn’t the right choice. When Ruby told me that the Quartermaines had forced you out of her place, that you’d gone to Jake’s, I looked into it. And I knew it was time.” Luke finally faced Jason again. “So if you want to know if this was a setup, sure. Sonny and I knew exactly what you’d been to Elizabeth, and we brought you here on purpose. Doesn’t mean we didn’t mean our promise to hold up against the Quartermaines to protect your job and room. But Elizabeth wasn’t part of it. If she’d known what we’d planned, she might have gotten in the car and kept driving.”

——

In the bathroom, Elizabeth leaned over the porcelain sink, splashing cold water on her face. She reached for a strip of paper towels to dry it, standing up and looking at herself in the mirror.

She didn’t need a doctor or a well-meaning friend to tell her she’d lost weight she couldn’t afford over the last few months. She’d always been slender, but her cheekbones were more prominent than they should have been, and her collarbone was more visible. She wasn’t doing well, and somehow, it was easier to admit that to herself now.

The day she’d craved and dreaded with equal ferocity was upon her now. Jason knew who she’d been to him, he knew that their daughter had existed—and now she had to decide what came next.

 I don’t want anyone to tell me anything else.

His words, tinged with a bit of anguish she realized now, echoed in her memory. He’d looked at that photo, and he’d seen something Elizabeth hadn’t. Or it had triggered something in himself — he’d wanted Cady’s name, but he hadn’t wanted her to say it. He’d wanted to find it for himself.

What must it be like for all the facts you knew about yourself to come from someone else? His name, his birthday, his history—who his family was, what kind of person he’d been—what would that feel like?

He’d been angry and hostile to nearly everyone he’d talked to. Even Emily, who could make anyone smile, had struggled a little. She and Ned had told Elizabeth to wait. That telling Jason more right now — telling him everything would only make it worse, and she could see they’d had a point.

But Elizabeth had also used their worry as an excuse to hide from reality, and now that wasn’t an option anymore. How could she tell Jason everything that had happened since his accident? How could she make him understand the choices she’d made — the actions his family had taken—

And then she knew. She slid her fingers into her pocket, looked at the bracelet with their daughter’s name and Jason’s promise inscribed, and realized that she knew exactly how to handle this terrible story.

——

“I believe that Elizabeth didn’t know,” Jason said. Now anyway, he knew it to be the truth. Her reaction the day before and today didn’t fit with someone who had plotted to lure him in with her sad story. “I didn’t at first but now I do.”

“Good—” Luke broke off when he saw Elizabeth returning. “Hey, honey. You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Um—” She came in, her skin a bit flushed and eyes tired from her tears. “I know you have a lot of questions about why I wasn’t at the hospital, and I want you to know them. It’s just—it’s a long story. And—and I want to get some things together to make it easier. Can you…can we just work tonight, and I promise—” She bit her lip. “I promise I’ll  try get you everything tomorrow. Or at least as much as you want.”

He furrowed his brow. “But—”

“It’s complicated, and I’m afraid I’ll leave parts out or I’ll do it in the wrong order—” She dragged a hand through her hair, then past her shoulder to rest in a clutched fist in front of her chest. “Please. I promise I’m not trying to hide anything. It’s just…not easy.”

“Yeah. Okay. Okay.” Jason didn’t really have a choice but to agree. He realized he still had the photo in his head, and he held it out. “Do you…want this back?”

She dropped her eyes to it, then looked at him. “Unless you want to keep it.”

His fingers tightened instinctively. He did want to keep it. It was the first time he’d been able to see a photograph and understand all of it, but it was also painful. But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was supposed to be. “Maybe for now.” He looked down again at it, then slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. “You…never said. Was Cady…was that what we called her?”

“Yes.” Her smile was faint, just the slightest curl of the corners of her lips. “The name was my idea, and I thought it was so pretty, but when she was born, she was so small—you said it was a lot of name for someone so little and precious.” She slid a more mischievous grin. “The same reason Luke still calls me Lizzie and thinks I don’t know.”

“Not to your face,” Luke said, though he smirked.

“It was my idea,” Jason said, and tested this information. It was something he was being told about himself, and that almost always pricked at him, feeling out of place and wrong. But there was something in the way she’d related the story, the way she’d connected it to herself, and made it feel like a story she was sharing, not another piece of knowledge about himself that he would never remember on his own. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth hesitated, then held out her bracelet to Luke. “Um, I can’t…I can’t get it to clasp again. My fingers…” She held out her hand, fingers spread out, and Jason realized they trembled slightly.

“I’ll do it,” Jason volunteered, stepping in front of Luke who backed up. Elizabeth bit her lip, then handed him the bracelet and extended her wrist. It was a small, delicate metal clasp but a simple one, and it took less than a minute, his fingers brushing over her cool skin. He’d given her this bracelet in another life, he thought, and the fact didn’t bother him. After all, it was a one he’d read for himself from the inscription.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, looking away from him, her cheeks flushed. “Um, I better get the bar inventory done before we have to open tonight. I can show you how to do it if you want.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jason stepped back, and she moved back towards the other end of the bar, stooping to grab the wallet he’d let drop to the ground when he’d removed the photo. She stowed it back in her bag — along with the telephone bill that had started everything.

“Okay. So here’s where you start.”

——

They managed to get through the shift, and Elizabeth focused on training Jason this time, not avoiding him. Just like before the accident, Jason was quick to pick up on most things, but she realized he had trouble with some of the liquors with decorative fonts on the label. The letters swirled, he told her, just like some of the pictures. He could get them with some time, but it wouldn’t be fast enough during the service. They focused on colors, and Elizabeth tucked this fact away when she went home to gather the materials for the next day.

Nervous, clutching an overflowing bundle, Elizabeth climbed the steps to the second floor of Luke’s where there were a few rooms. Luke had always thought about renting them out, but Jason was the first tenant. She knocked lightly, and Jason yanked it open so quickly she knew he’d been waiting.

“Hey. Come in.” He wore a white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, his feet bare. He gestured towards the kitchenette where she saw a tiny circle table with two chairs made from the same dingy wood. “There’s not much, but, um, do you want water or something?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Elizabeth set the bag down next to the table and sat. She tugged out the first stack, and watched him grab a plastic cup from one of the two cabinets. It was one of those cheap plastic cups you’d see in a discount store, but the water was cold and it kept her mouth from being too dry.

It was almost too fantastical to accept that she and Jason were alone together again, in a room that wasn’t much different than where she’d been living when they’d first started dating — that had been at Kelly’s back then — it was almost like being back at the beginning.

Except for everything she’d brought that reminded her just how much history there was.

“I thought about what you said yesterday, about wanting…about not wanting to be told things. Facts,” Elizabeth added when Jason finally sat across from her. “So, I, um, went home and got all these together. Documents and things. I thought…I don’t know, I could show them to you and maybe you could ask me questions.”

Jason’s gaze was intense. “You…you brought things to look at?”

“Yes. Um. Is that okay? Unless you just want me to tell you, I just—”

“No. No. This is—” He seemed flustered, shifted in his chair. “No. This is good. Where…what do you bring?”

“I didn’t know where you wanted to start, so I thought, well maybe the beginning?” Elizabeth slid the first few documents towards him — their marriage certificate and Cady’s birth certificate. He scanned them, furrowing his brow. “She was born in September, but we were only married in March?”

“Yes. Um, I didn’t…we didn’t plan to get pregnant. Or married. Not then,” Elizabeth added. She fiddled with the ring on her finger. “It was the worst time, honestly. You were going into medical school and we both knew your schedule would be insane. But it also…felt right. I was scared until you told me you were happy. I, um, don’t have anything to prove that. Other than…” She slid a photograph towards him. She’d tried to find one that had them in a similar pose as the photo he already had, hoping it would make it easier. He was smiling in it.

“We signed a lease—” She slid that towards him, and he only glanced at this, which bolstered her. She reached into the bag again, her fingers shaking slightly as she took out a book with a baby holding a teddy bear. Across the top, there were pink letters labeling it as “My Baby Book.”

Jason took it from her, staring at the cover for a long moment. He started to flip through it, reading through her pregnancy, the photos they’d taken every month—there were two sets of handwriting—they’d both written in it.

Then Cady’s birth, and photos of her—doctor’s first appointment—

And then the pages were blank. There was nothing on the pages describing her second month. Jason stopped on these pages, raised his eyes to hers. “You said it was six weeks.”

“Yes. I, um, there are newspaper articles about it, but I didn’t—” She stared at her hands. “You can get those, I guess. I never read any of it. If there was, um, a death…” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I don’t know. I never saw any of it. You handled it. I can get them—”

“I know what to look for now,” Jason said, his tone gentle, and she looked at him. “It’s okay. Thank you. Can…can I look through this? I want to know more. Read it.” He touched the book. “I won’t lose it or damage it, I promise.”

“Okay. Yeah. That’s…yeah.” Elizabeth reached into the bag again and drew out a new folder, a thicker manila file folder. “And this is where the hospital story begins.” She slid that over to him.

Jason took out the first letter, frowning as he read it. “This is from your lawyer,” he said slowly. “Telling the hospital that you are asserting your legal right as my wife to visit me in the ICU. That you have the power of attorney and should be in charge of medical treatment, or at the very least, consulted. That wasn’t happening?”

“No. I never—I came to the hospital, but you can’t just go to the ICU, you know. They, um, the hospital never let me upstairs. I never got past the security desk. So I went to a friend, and…” She sighed. “And it just got worse from there.”

Jason nodded. He looked at the next document. “This is a notice from the court that—” His face tightened. “Alan Quartermaine is acting power of attorney. How…”

“They went to court. I didn’t—I wasn’t part of it. They cut me out from the beginning.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then picked up the next legal notice. He stared it for a long moment, and she could almost hear the question before he asked it. “How exactly is Edward Quartermaine petitioning for a divorce on my behalf?” he demanded. “What the hell is this?”

“The power of attorney wasn’t enough,” Elizabeth said slowly. “It only gave Alan medical power. They wanted…they wanted me cut off from everything. I found out when I went to get money from the ATM, and I found out they’d cleaned out the bank account. They went to probate court and petitioned for a conservatorship. Alan controls the medical side, and Edward…everything else. That’s why Ruby and Jake and everyone else pushed you away. Because you legally don’t have the right to enter into a contract without Edward. And the first thing Edward did with this power? He filed for divorce and closed our bank accounts.”

+34

Written in 63 minutes. And you guys, listen, I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever written in an hour.

They had told him his name was Jason.

That’s where the anger had begun, of course, though he wouldn’t have recognized it at the time. He’d opened his eyes to nothing. A blank slate. A room he didn’t recognize. People he didn’t know.

“You’re Jason,” a tearful woman with blonde hair had told him, her hands clutched in front of her, raised to her mouth as her blue eyes had shimmered with tears. “You’re Jason, and it’s okay. We’ll make it okay.” She’d clung to a man next to her with salt and pepper hair who had also been emotional, though there were no tears. “We’re your parents, and we love you. You’re Jason. It’s all going to be okay now.”

It was a lie, though he couldn’t have known it then. He knew things of course. He could walk, talk, eat, dress himself — all the functions of everyday life required for survival, but people meant nothing to him and he didn’t understand them.

He knew that the word parents meant he’d been raised by them and these people had served some sort of authoritative function in his life. Just like he understood what grandfather and sister and brother — he understand that the terms referred to biology and legal obligations. He could have accepted that.

He liked facts. Liked the certainty of information that couldn’t be changed. The man — Alan he’d called himself — was his biological father, and the woman — Monica — had adopted him. There’d been some twisted story about an affair that Monica had tried to explain to him, but he had mostly ignored it. That had nothing to do with him. He had a brother who was older from Alan. A sister who was younger — she’d been adopted by both of them as a toddler.

There were grandparents — Alan’s parents. Both biological, he’d noted. And a cousin, Ned, with his wife, Lois. Ned was Alan’s nephew, another biological and legal term. They were nice enough. A different cousin, Justus, who was tolerable enough.

At first, he’d accepted all of these facts because there didn’t seem to be a point in refuting them. And his name was Jason, which they said over and over again. He was Jason Morgan Quartermaine, medical student and favored son — or so the bitter older brother, AJ, proclaimed.

In the hospital, it hadn’t been so bad at first. People had left him alone sometimes, and they seemed to understand he didn’t know them. There were doctors which he’d hated because they kept looking at him like an insect, like something under a microscope they didn’t understand. A miracle, one of them had said. Dr. Jones.

“You suffered such damage to that frontal lobe,” the doctor had told him. “And yet all that seems to be impacted is your long-term personal memories.” Other memories were there — he knew algebra and geometry and the French national anthem — he knew how to fix a leak in a sink, though no one could explain how the pampered rich son knew that.

But he knew that Dr. Jones was wrong — that was something else missing in him. He didn’t know how to talk to people. Or how to make the thoughts in his head come out right. He’d think one thing, and then he’d open his mouth, and words would fall out, and they’d always be the wrong ones.

Right after he’d left the hospital and gone to the big house, he’d gone downstairs for breakfast and had been disgusted when they’d given him a bowl of oatmeal. He’d made a face, and the butler (what a strange way to live your life, serving other people) had explained with a patient smile that he always ate the oatmeal because it made the grandmother happy. And he couldn’t understand why anyone would eat anything so disgusting just to make someone happy — which he’d said in front of everyone including the grandmother. The grandmother — Lila — hadn’t seemed offended, but the grandfather had been furious.

He hadn’t cared for the grandfather almost from the beginning. His name was Edward, and he’d seemed disappointed in the lack of memories, though cheered when they all decided he wasn’t too damaged and could go back to medical school.

“You’ll only have to miss this semester,” Edward had declared over a dinner a week after he’d left the hospital. “You’ll get your life back on track like this never happened.”

And this had made him mad. Because he hated hospitals and didn’t want to go anywhere near them. But when he told them this, they’d laughed. The father, Alan, had just grinned liked he’d told a job. “You’ll hate it during your internship, too,” he’d said. “But you’ll get over it—”

And maybe that hadn’t been such a big deal, but it felt like one. It felt like every time he tried to say anything that didn’t fall in line with their vision for what his life looked like, they just laughed and waved it away. Explained how he was wrong. But that wasn’t fair. How he felt wasn’t a fact you could be certain about and the first time he exploded after one of these conversations, the grandfather had raged back —

But the second and third time, when he’d sent the mother crying back to her room, they’d started to talk in hush tones about maybe he needed more help, maybe there was more tests, more studies —

They talked about sending him away.

So he’d left because another fact he knew was that he was over eighteen and they couldn’t do anything to him if he did that. They kept controlling him — he couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t find a place to live — everyone seemed to answer to this family —

But he was still free in his own way, and he thought things were starting to look up.

But every once in a while, he remembered that every fact that he knew about himself was something he’d been told from someone else.

Including his own name. They’d told him he was Jason, and the only reason he had decided to keep the name was the grandmother who had patiently smiled, and said, well, the first time she’d heard her own name was from her mother. Everyone’s name was a fact decided by someone else.

This had made him feel better, and so he’d decided to keep being Jason but it still made him angry every time someone told him something about the person he’d used to be, another fact that he didn’t know —

He thought of it now, standing in Luke’s blues and jazz club, staring at the woman in front of him with tears in her eyes. Just like the mother, Jason thought. Monica had cried when she’d told him who she was supposed to be, and now—

He hated when people looked at him like this, like he was causing them pain, like it was his fault when he hadn’t done anything wrong—

Except get into a car with a brother who was nothing more than a drunk who’d been shipped off to some rehab clinic where Jason didn’t have to think about him anymore. Which he liked.

Now this woman was telling him another set of facts he didn’t know — facts that she didn’t even know like why he’d gotten in the car — and he didn’t want her to tell him anything. He’d just wanted to know why his name was next to hers on a telephone bill—

He hadn’t asked for all the other burdens that came with it. Just like the rest of the family he didn’t know, she’d thrown all of it at him once — “We’re your parents,” Monica had said that day in the hospital. “You’re Jason, our son. And we love you. You were in an accident, and we thought you would never wake up. But now you’re awake and you’ve come back to us—”

All those words had obligations tied to it, and he didn’t even really know his name yet. He still didn’t quite have a handle on any of it—

And in his head, in his mind where things made sense, Jason had the right words. He could see her pain, maybe he could even understand that she wasn’t trying to make her pain his problem, but it was, wasn’t it? She was telling him about a life he didn’t remember—

A whole person he didn’t know except he’d never know them. And somehow that cut through the rest of it. He didn’t remember the grandparents or the parents. The siblings. He didn’t know them. And this—he didn’t know the wife. But they were all flesh and blood people that he could see in front of him. Monica with her tearful pleas, Alan with his dismissive certainty, Edward with the arrogant commands, Lila with the kindness understanding, and Emily with the sparkling laughter. And now Elizabeth with her shattered eyes.

But there was another person in this conversation that wasn’t here anymore, and he’d never know them. The wife had come with the daughter. The daughter who had died the way Jason had almost. A car accident. A drunk driver.

All of this was in his head, and he wanted to say it, because maybe it would make sense out in the world. How could you feel sad about a person you didn’t know? That you didn’t remember? And the word daughter came with another word — father. And wife — that had a matching term, too.

And that was another word that described him. He knew he was Jason, the son, the brother, the grandson, the disappointment, the damaged freak — but he didn’t know Jason the husband, the father, and no one had told him. That family had fallen over themselves to tell him all the stories about Jason the medical student, Jason the hockey player, Jason the great, the wonderful —

But no one ever told him everything and it was exhausting, and infuriating that at the end of it all there was still more he had to find out because when would it end—

So every word he spoke came out angry and bitter and furious because it was days and weeks and months of never knowing what was coming next —

And then she’d stopped, and she’d summed up all of the information in three simple sentences, and his brain had shut down.

We were married. We had a daughter. And now I’m the only one who remembers.

Elizabeth, this stranger, who looked at him with tears staining her cheeks, folded her arms. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I don’t—” Jason stopped. “Was it all a lie?” He hadn’t meant to say that. It hadn’t even been in his head.

She furrowed her brows, with bewilderment now, something he was familiar with because everyone always looked at him like he was stupid. Insane. Damaged. Broken. One step away from losing it— “What? You think I’m lying about—”

“The job. The room.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth now, and he couldn’t quite form the words around it, but now he had something to say. “Luke. Sonny. You sent them, didn’t you? Did you wait until I had no other choice?”

Her arms fell to her side. “What? What? Are you kidding me? I tell you all of that—”

It was a set-up. All of it. It made so much sense right now. He’d come here yesterday, and she’d pretended to be surprised, and then she’d made him feel sorry for her because he was creating more work for her — just another burden. She’d made him feel like he was a problem for her to solve, and he hated that — and she’d dropped mail in front of him — and now she was tearfully telling him about their past together —

Just like the parents and the grandfather and the cousins — and all the people who weren’t happy enough for him to admit the biological or legal times — no, they all were demanding more from him — they wanted him to pretend that the emotions were there, too, and pretend that he had any goddamn clue what was going on around him—

“You knew I had nowhere else to go —”

“Do you think I’m lying?” she bit out, and now her eyes were different. They’d narrowed into little pinpoints of fury, her cheeks flushed. Good, he liked that better. He could handle angry. He didn’t like tears. They felt like weapons, and he didn’t know how to defend against them.

She shoved past him, knocking him back a step, snagging her purse from beneath the bar. She ripped out her wallet, fingers trembling as she shoved it into his face. “Is this a lie?” she demanded, teeth clenched.

Jason tried to look at it, tried to make sense of the images swimming in front of him. He wasn’t always very good at seeing photographs, but he was better now than after the hospital — He took the wallet from her, carefully extracting the photo, taking it in.

Did she know he had trouble with this kind of things? That images on the screen and photos on the mantel or wall swam in front of him sometimes, and he didn’t always understand what he was looking at?

But maybe she really didn’t. She hadn’t been one of the people at the hospital. Hadn’t clung to him, crying when he didn’t know her —

She’d never been there at all.

The photo had people in it, that much he knew. There were colors — brown — which he thought was her hair. And that was…blond. That was him. Jason exhaled slowly as the image came into focus. If he was patient and he tried, if he pulled together some pieces, sometimes it formed and he could see it.

And he wanted to see it. He wanted to know what proof, what defense she’d thrown in his face —

Then he saw it. It was a small portrait of the woman in front of him, though she had more weight in her face, and she was smiling — he’d never seen that. He recognized his face, too…

They were standing — she was turned slightly into him, her hand on his shoulder, her head against his shoulder—

And he was holding a baby. Just a tiny little human with a green frothy dress, a matching headband with an orange flower around her head. And he saw he was smiling, too.

“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice dulled now. “Give me back my picture—”

“I didn’t…” His throat was tight as he looked up from the obvious truth. Somehow it was different when the facts were in front of him. And there were facts in this photograph that no one else had to tell him. Facts he could see though it had taken a lot, and maybe it was larger, he could see more —

He had facts now that weren’t from someone. She’d told him who this baby was to him in legal and biological terms, but she hadn’t told him that he’d loved the baby. That they’d all been happy.

He could see it. He didn’t remember it, but seeing it made it real.

“I didn’t think you were lying about this,” Jason said finally. “I don’t—I don’t know her name.”

“What?”

“Her name. I should know it. I can’t see it in the picture, and I don’t want you to tell me. I don’t want anyone to tell me anything else.” He swallowed hard. Was he making sense? How could he? It felt like babbling, and he didn’t like that. “Do you—is there something I could look at? With her name.”

Her eyes wide, Elizabeth’s eyes dropped to her wrist. She licked her lips, and, with her other hand, undid the clasp of the bracelet she’d told him he’d given her the day this baby was born. She held it out, the little identification plate flat against her palm.

“Cadence Audrey Quartermaine,” Jason said, reading the words, and taking them in. He looked back at the photo, then at the name.

Elizabeth flipped the bracelet so that he could see the other side — where it was inscribed. He couldn’t read this aloud, didn’t want to.

To Elizabeth, for making me a father and a husband. I will always love you. Jason.

He’d had to be told his name, and all the important facts about himself. He was Jason Morgan Quartermaine, the brain-damaged son of Alan and Monica. But no one had ever told him he was a husband and father. Not even Elizabeth. She’d only told him the word that belonged to her.

But these facts belonged to him, and he had words now for himself that no one had told him. There was evidence that they were his, and he didn’t know why it mattered. Why there was a difference when he still didn’t remember anything and never would.

He could see the truth in these words and this photo. And now he wanted everything.

“Her name was Cadence,” Jason said, listening the way the word sounded, and felt on his tongue. “You…there are more? Photos? You have them?”

“I—yes. Jason—”

He hadn’t known you could see facts in photographs and that you could feel them — they’d always been so hard for him to understand that he’d never tried very hard.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Elizabeth was saying when he focused on her again. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to talk about.” Her eyes shimmered again. “You don’t look mad anymore.”

He couldn’t find the anger he’d felt only minutes ago. “I’m not. But—” Jason looked at her again. “Where were you? You were never at the hospital. You never—why didn’t anyone tell me about her?”

“That—” Elizabeth took a deep breath as if she had to pull it from her soul. “That’s a long story.”

+33

Written in 69 minutes. Needed the ending to be perfect so I took extra time.

The large, sprawling estates lining Harborview Road might as well as have been located in another world from the dingy and disreputable Port Charles waterfront, but it was a matter of miles and maybe ten minutes separating Luke’s from the Quartermaine compound, which curved around their own man-made lake. There were tennis courts, a boat house, the family’s own private mauseoleum, an outdoor pool (as well as a heated indoor), the gate house down by the entrance, and the L-shaped main house where you really could get lost if you’d never been there before.

The Quartermaines had been the leaders of Port Charles almost before there had been a town to rule over, and its current patriarch, Edward, had no intention of losing a single battle in the war to maintain his family’s position. He was an imposing man, though he lacked height or stature — it was in the set of shoulders, the look in his eye, the expression in his face —

No one wanted to face the wrath of Edward Louis Quartermaine, and very few ever went directly to wars against him. Including his own son, Alan, who had chosen his few battles carefully, plotting meticulously to find a way in which he could win while not letting Edward know that he’d lost.

It was that long history of combat that Alan was thinking about as he approached his father’s study very carefully, writing the conversation in his head and attempting to account for all possible tangents his father might cease upon.

“Father?” Alan knocked lightly on the door. “Do you have a moment?”

“Barely,” Edward muttered, but set down the gold-plated pen and raised his white head until his piercing blue eyes pinned Alan directly. “What is it?”

“A friend went to Luke’s last night — the jazz club?” Alan added when his father furrowed his brow. “And he thought I might be interested in knowing they’ve hired a new bartender. Jason.”

“Jason—” Edward scowled. “Those damned reprobrates—” He rose from his desk. “I knew we should have moved faster against that woman,” he muttered as he paced towards the large bay window overlooking the gardens. “She’s sniffing around him, isn’t she?”

Alan hesitated. Edward was almost unhinged on this topic — he’d never quite come to terms with Jason’s rebellious relationship and marriage, and that hadn’t improved in the last few months. “I think it’s safe to say that Luke Spencer and Sonny Corinthos didn’t reach out to Jason out of the goodness of the hearts, so yes, I think Elizabeth has learned Jason views us as the enemy and is planning to use that.”

Edward stroked his chin. “I’d almost admire it,” he admitted, “if I wasn’t so furious. She certainly has more patience with which we’ve credited her. It’s the first sign she’s displayed she might actually share some genetic material with her grandfather. Steve would be appalled at how she’s wasted her life. And she thinks she’s going to get her claws back into my grandson, does she?”

“She certainly has a side of the story that makes us into the bad guys,” Alan admitted. “And, honestly, Father, we handed it to her on a silver platter. We ought to have let her into the hospital. Jason has rejected nearly everyone connected to his previous life—”

“Except for Lila and Emily,” Edward muttered, likely still smarting that his beloved wife had refused to help their side at all. And Emily was a traitor in her own way, having been best friends with the Webber girl since childhood. “You may have a point,” he said gruffly. “We’ve allowed her the chance to think, to write her own version of events. The poor, grief-stricken wife kept from her husband, deprived of his presence—”

“And trust fund,” Alan said. One of their early victories had been cutting off the little gold digger from Jason’s financial resources.

“Well, what do we do now?” Edward demanded. “It was one thing to blacklist him from every hotel or motel in the city. To keep him from gainful employment in most places. But Spencer and Corinthos don’t take orders from anyone.”

“I think we should let this play out until our next court date,” Alan said, and Edward scowled. “If we take any immediate action, Father, we risk the rest of the family finding out exactly how we kept Elizabeth out of the hospital. As it is—” He winced. “Monica is starting to waver. She’s grown desperate to hold on to any piece of Jason, and like it or not, Elizabeth is a connection to that life.” His voice dipped. “A connection to everything that was lost—”

“I don’t want to talk about any of that,” Edward cut in sharply. “It’s history. It’s over. And that girl is the reason it’s over. I don’t care a whit for any of her grief or tears. She caused it for all of us. And now she thinks she’ll get a second crack of dragging my grandson down with her—no. I don’t think we can wait—”

“Elizabeth will be served with the eviction notice, Father. And we’ll make another settlement offer. At this point, there’s also the chance that Jason will be furious with her for not telling him about everything. Particularly if she’s lured him into the club under false pretenses. I’m suggesting, Father, that we see how things go for the moment.” He waited, held his breath.

“Fine. We’ll try it your way this once. But everything else goes forward, do you understand? Before Jason can get a chance to stop it. How much longer before it’s finalized?”

“The next court date is to dismiss Elizabeth’s objection. She can’t afford to pay her attorneys much longer. After that, it’s maybe thirty days.”

“All right.” Edward returned to his seat. “I’ll make a few calls to be sure they intend to dismiss her ridiculous petition. As if she should have any say in how I look after my grandson, who is clearly too injured to take care of himself. But you will keep your eye on the situation. If there’s even a hint of her luring him in again, we’ll have no choice but to act.”

“Yes, Father. I’ll see it done.”

——

Elizabeth had always known this day would come, though she could also admit a small part of her hoped that she’d battle it out in court, win, and then somehow walk off into the sunset with her dignity intact—

And somehow, she’d be able to do all of that without ever looking her husband in the eye again.

“There you go again, Lizzie,” she murmured, stepping behind the bar and flipping through the packet of mail she’d grabbed on her way to work. “Dreaming. When will you learn?”

“Did you say something?”

Startled, Elizabeth jumped, the envelopes and magazines sliding from her hands to the rubber mat laid out behind the bar to protect the hardwood from spills. Behind her, in the archway that led towards the stairs to the second story, stood Jason. Her husband.

Except he wasn’t anymore, not in anyway except the legal — which he had no idea existed. She swallowed hard, then crouched down to hurriedly gather the mail back into her tote bag, her heart pounding. Oh, God, she’d grabbed her mail as part of her routine, but it was not just her mail but his, too. And her name was all over it.

Her full, legal name.

Jason came forward, started to bend down to help, but Elizabeth had it all gathered before he could touch any of it. She clutched the tote bag in her arms, sure that she must look like an insane person, but what if he saw the Sports Illustrated magazine with Jason Quartermaine’s name emblazoned on the address label? Or her Cosmopolitan addressed to Elizabeth Quartermaine—

No. No. That couldn’t be the way they had this conversation.

She didn’t want to have the conversation at all.

“I’ve got it, thanks. Sorry, you just—” Elizabeth licked her lips, turned away and shoved the bag and her purse into the basket under the bar where she always kept her things during a shift. “You surprised me.”

“Uh, okay.” Jason’s tone was bewildered, which of course it was. She’d acted like a lunatic since the moment he’d met her—they’d worked together last night and every time he’d so much as looked at her, she’d fumbled something—

Thank God Luke had stayed on last night to help, pretending he was training Jason, but he’d really just been a buffer between Elizabeth and reality.

Because reality was standing in front of her — something she’d been ignoring for months. Her fingers trembled as she flipped through the club’s inventory list. He didn’t even look like Jason anymore, not really. The long hair had been shaved in the hospital due to his injuries, and Jason had kept it short—nearly a buzzcut. He’d also lost weight since the accident, causing him to look almost lanky, like high school again.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Okay. Okay. You either tell him the truth right now and get it over with or you get your shit together.

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, um, so I’m little…off.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, forced a smile as Jason moved around to the front of the bar, his eyes scanning the rest of the club. “And sorry I didn’t really do a better job last night training you. I, um—”

“Sonny said you were dealing with something personal.” Jason turned back to her. “It’s fine. I don’t like surprises either.”

“No, I guess not.” Elizabeth winced when he frowned. “I mean, I just, um, I know you lost your memory,” she said almost weakly. She picked up the clipboard, pretended to study the back of the bar, counting liquor bottles, taking mental notes of what was low, and what they’d need to keep on hand for tonight.

“Lost my memory. Sure. That’s one way to put it.” Jason’s voice came closer, and she knew he’d walked around the other side of the bar again. “Luke and Sonny said I used to come here before the accident. I guess you knew me.”

It was just unfortunate that as he said those words, the ring on her finger — the little diamond he’d bought a year ago when he’d asked her to marry him — it caught the light. “Yes,” Elizabeth said softly. “I knew you.” She looked at him. “Emily and I are the same age. She’s been my best friend since…well, since the sandbox.” She set the clipboard down, curled her hand into a fist to keep from looking at it again. “But, um, she said you weren’t…that you didn’t really want to know anything about before.”

That it made him furious. That he’d been angry, hostile, even viciously rude to anyone who brought it up. “He was even rude to Grandmother,” Emily had told her with wide brown eyes. And since no one on the planet was rude to Lila Quartermaine, Elizabeth had decided maybe it was for the best she was being blocked from Jason right now.

“Not from those people,” Jason bit out. “They keep telling me they’re my family, but all they want is to tell me what to do. So I left.” He cleared his throat. “So, no, I don’t really care about a life I don’t remember.”

Elizabeth nodded, turned away. “Yeah. I can understand that. The, um, Quartermaines…they’re a lot to take. Even under the best circumstances. Emily’s adopted, so that probably helps. And Lila’s not biologically related, either, so that explains a lot.” She picked up her pencil, returned to the inventory.

“They’re all right,” Jason said, almost begrudgingly. “But the rest of them — they can’t handle being told no. And all they did was tell me what to do, how to act, what to say—” He broke off. “You don’t care about any of that. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Her heart ached for him, fighting all the same battles he’d already won in another lifetime. The Quartermaines had controlled every piece of his life, and had been furious every time Jason stepped out of line. He’d come home from Stanford — the college Alan and Edward had picked out, and then refused to return there for medical school. He’d chosen to stay local — the first time he’d really pushed back, and they’d never forgiven him for it.

And he’d done that for her. Elizabeth was the reason Jason had fought those battles before the accident — and now —

God, it was her fault now, wasn’t it? It would always be her fault. All of it. And suddenly, she understood why Luke had pushed all of this. Why he’d reminded her of the simple fact. Jason hadn’t done anything to deserve the last three months. The last six months. The last two years.

No, Jason had done nothing but come home from college and fall in love with her, and every moment after that was on Elizabeth for blindly thinking love would conquer everything. She exhaled slowly, looked down at the ring again, then at the slim gold bracelet she wore on the same hand. He’d given her both on the happiest days of her life. She’d do this, she’d tell the truth now so that Jason could be free.

And so that he was armed for the battles to come — especially the ones he didn’t even know about.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to tell him the truth, turning as she did so — only to see him crouching down to extract a white envelope that she’d missed earlier. It had slid partially under the bar—

“You dropped this earlier—” Jason said, extending his hand. She reached for it, intending to snatch the piece of mail, but it seemed to happen in slow-motion—

Like a goddamn horror movie.

His eyes dropped and she actually saw it in his eyes — the bewilderment and curiosity swirling as he looked back up, pulling his hand back so that he could fully read the name on the address label.

“What is this?” Jason looked back up, and now she realized there was something worse than having him look at her without knowing her.

It was the fury and betrayal. It was the way he looked just like his grandfather —

“What is this?” he repeated, stepping towards her and shoving the envelope back at her. “What does this mean?”

Elizabeth took it, holding it with both hands. It was a bill for their telephone, of course, she thought almost in a daze. The one bill in both their names. The apartment lease? That was his. Utilities included. Except for the phone.

The one piece of mail addressed to Jason and Elizabeth Quartermaine. Of course she’d missed this envelope.

She’d been so giddy the first time it had arrived in the mail—their first piece of mail as a married couple, she’d said with a beaming smile. Jason had laughed, tugged it from her hand, and kissed her.

“Damn it—” Jason began, his expression twisted in anger she’d never seen directed at her.

“You asked if I knew you,” Elizabeth said finally, as a strange calm settled on her. For three months, she’d craved this moment. She’d dreaded it. She’d run from it. But now it was here. “You never…you never let me finish telling you.”

“Then tell me now.” The words were bit out with the bitterness of a man who’d had nothing but lies and half-truths thrown at him, and she couldn’t even be angry.

“A year ago, last April 15,” Elizabeth said, her eyes locked on his. “That became my legal name. Because we’re married. I’m…I’m your wife.” She licked her lips. “Do you—do you want the rest of it or—”

“How can there be more?” Jason retorted. “What else is everyone lying about?”

“Is it a lie if no one asks?” she asked, almost idly. She held up her wrist, her fingers tracing the little square identification plate on her bracelet, with the elegant letters enscribed into it. “No one asked me. So I didn’t say anything.”

“Playing games, like the Quartermaines do?”

“No. Just trying to survive. This was a gift from you,” she said. A tear slid down her cheek—she didn’t mean it—didn’t want him to think she was going to use the grief they no longer shared. Because she was the only one who carried it now. “On the day our daughter was born.”

“Our—” Jason’s face was bone white. “What the hell—”

“Six weeks later, I threw it away, and it was lost.” Her lips trembled. “I found it after the accident. I guess maybe the universe thought I deserved a break. We don’t have a daughter anymore.”

He closed his mouth, opened it again, but nothing escaped. What could you say?

“She was only six weeks old when the drunk driver hit us. I—I don’t know what happened after that. I never asked you. I just knew she never made it to the hospital. And that I almost didn’t either.” Elizabeth’s lips curved into a sad smile. “Or didn’t you ask why you got into a car with your brother? With an intoxicated alcoholic? You didn’t wonder?”

“I thought I was an idiot,” Jason said faintly.

“Well, yeah, that, too. But you knew what a drunk driver could do behind the wheel, and I think you were trying to stop him from destroying another family. Joke’s on us, I guess. Because I didn’t know there was much left to destroy.” Another tear escaped. “So now you know. We were married. We had a daughter. And now I’m the only one who remembers.”

+31