Written in 50 minutes. I did do a read through to look for typos, but my mother called so I didn’t do it as closely as I wanted to, lol. I’ll find them as soon as I posted, I know. Next update on Tuesday!

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Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth refilled Nikolas’s coffee cup. “It’s hard to set realistic expectations after all that, you know?” she told him. “I know she still has rounds of chemo and so much work ahead of her before she goes into remission—”

“If,” Nikolas corrected, almost on a mutter. He cupped the ceramic white cup with both hands, rotating it gently. “I can’t let myself believe it. It’ll hurt too much when it doesn’t work.”

“I know. I know. But I also—” Elizabeth paused when she saw a familiar figure in the courtyard, lingering between the window and door, almost as if he wanted to come in but couldn’t figure out how to work the handle. Her throat tightened, and their eyes met.

Oh, God.

“Liz?” Nikolas asked, and she looked at him, blinking. He frowned, then twisted in his seat, his lips thinning when he saw who had caught her attention. “Oh, hell.” He turned back around, dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t know that was back. I mean, that you and him—”

“We’re not,” Elizabeth murmured. And we won’t be, she thought.

The door finally opened, and even the jingle of the bells sounded muted as Jason entered, walking slowly towards her, heaviness in every step. Her lower lip quivered, so she bit down on it.

“Nikolas?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you do, stay right there.”

“Got it.”

Jason stopped in front of her, rested the tips of both hands on the counter. Their eyes met for one excruciating minute, then he looked away. “I was—if you had a few minutes—”

“I’m on break in ten minutes,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll talk to you in the alley. Not in here. Or out there.” Not in the courtyard where he’d walked away from her for the first time all those years ago.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He cleared his throat, almost as if he wanted to say something else, but mercifully, he left.

Nikolas watched him go, then studied Elizabeth’s face. “You’re not going to tell me what that’s about, are you?”

“Nothing. It’s—”

“Hey. I know I have a terrible track record when it comes to that topic, and I’m not going to fix that in the next ten minutes,” Nikolas said. “You don’t have to lie to me Just tell me to butt out.”

“It’s not that. I just—” She very carefully picked up a dish towel and folded it, desperately needing something to do, an action to perform so that her hands didn’t shake. “I can’t talk about it. Physically. I mean. I need to take the next ten minutes to decide how to do this, and I don’t have the bandwidth to explain any of it to you right now. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize for doing what you need to do to survive, Liz.” Nikolas raised the cup to his lips. “You don’t report to me and you’re not accountable to me, either. But whatever happens next, I hope you know I’m here for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She kept herself busy for what time remained before her break, and still didn’t have any epiphany for what had to come next. Only that she wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“Go on and take your break,” Penny said, passing her with a carafe of coffee. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks.” Elizabeth headed for the kitchen where the back entrance lead to the alley.

Jason stood there, leaning against the opposite wall. He straightened when she pushed the door open and stepped out. “Hey—”

“I know I asked you to wait out here, but—” She folded her arms, looked down at the ground, kicked at a stray piece of glass that had escaped the trash bins. “I honestly don’t think I want to do this here, either. I don’t want to do it at all. I still have three hours on my shift, and right now, I can pretend I don’t know what you’re going to say. I can’t finish my shift if I know.”

Jason exhaled on a long breath. “I didn’t—I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“No,” Elizabeth said, her smile grim. “You don’t work a nine to five, so I guess it wouldn’t occur to you. I’ll meet you at my studio in three hours. And no, you can’t come here and pick me up,” she added when he opened his mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”

“No. No. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth looked at him for another long moment, searching his eyes, then went back inside. She leaned against the closed door, squeezed her eyes shut.

“You okay over there, Lizzie?” DJ, the cook on the grill for the breakfast shift, asked.

“Okay is a strong word, DJ. I’m surviving. That’s good enough.”

She’d make it enough.

Three hours later, she turned over what tables remained to the next waitress, grateful for the lunch rush which had made it impossible to think about anything else. She’d needed the time, the space, the distraction. She’d only get one chance at this conversation, and she really wanted to walk away from all of this knowing she’d done the right thing by herself—and by Jason.

She walked home, wishing she lived further, that she could put off this conversation again. To prolong the silly hope that somehow, if she didn’t do this today, tomorrow would be different. But it wouldn’t be.

Jason was waiting for her, and she almost wondered if he’d come directly here and had sat here for the last three hours. She nearly asked, but didn’t. Her keys were in her hand when she approached the door.

“Thanks,” Elizabeth said, sliding the key into the lock, twisting to release the catch and deadbolt. “For, um, waiting. I needed a chance to….I needed to be ready for this.” She walked into the studio ahead of him, and if she’d had any doubts about his choice, they would have been erased when he followed her inside, closed the door and stayed on the other side of the room.

“Elizabeth—”

She sat on the arm of her sofa. “You don’t have to say it. You went home and you looked at her, and you realized it’s insanity to walk away from what you know you can live with, from someone who makes you happy enough, that you love enough. To walk away from the life you know and trust—” Her voice trembled. “And risk it for someone who never stays anyway—”

“Don’t say that,” Jason said, coming forward just a step, then stopping, fisting his hands at his side. “That’s not what you are to me—”

“That’s what you were to me,” she interrupted, and he closed his mouth. “That day in the park. You offered me the world, and I almost said yes. But you backed off. Do you remember that? I asked if you wanted me to go with you, and you said it didn’t matter as long as I was free. And I—” She brushed at an errant tear. “And I said no. Because what if I walked away from everything and everyone and you decided it wasn’t real, that you didn’t love me after all, not that you loved me in the first place—but I just—I couldn’t trust it. Maybe I was only unhappy because you were here, and I could imagine something different. But before you came home, I was happy. Happy enough. I loved Lucky enough. Maybe once you went away, it all go back the way it used to be.”

Jason swallowed hard. “Did it?”

She smiled at him through her tears. “No, it didn’t. But I didn’t know that then. I couldn’t. You were the risk I was too scared to take, and the regret I’ll have to live with, I guess.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She could do this.

She could do this.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at him. Really looked at him. “I’m not saying staying with Courtney is a mistake. It’d be so arrogant and self-serving, right? To tell you that we couldn’t have shared what we did that night if you’d been really happy—I’m not that person, and neither are you. I know that staying with Lucky was the choice that I made willingly, and just because it turned into a mistake, it didn’t mean it started that way.”

Jason dragged a hand down his face. “I just—I love her,” he said in a low voice, and Elizabeth was surprised when the words didn’t stab her in the gut the way she’d expect. “We…work. Outside. In my life. She understands it and—”

“She’s part of Sonny’s family. Friends with Carly. She fits, Jason. And you love her. I understand.”

“I—” Jason paused, as if searching for the right words. “I love you, too,” he said, and those words did slice at her, because she’d dreamt of hearing them and now it was being said as he walked away. “I don’t know if that’s—if I should tell you that—but I can’t stand it if you think I don’t—or that the other night—that it was—I should regret it. I know this would all be easier if I did, but—”  He looked away, shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. I’m standing here, and I don’t want to do this. But then I go home—”

“And your brain tells you all the reasons why you and Courtney have lasted for months and months, and why you and I didn’t make it three weeks.”

Jason looked at her sharply. “I didn’t—I knew why we didn’t. I lied to you. I should have told you about Sonny.”

“And I should have given you the grace you had earned over and over again. For all the times I hurt you, for all the times I didn’t stand by you, I should have stayed. Fought about it. But I left. And I don’t get to complain that you didn’t fight for us. Because I didn’t either.” She looked down at her hands, twisting the silver ring on her right hand.

“It just…it was too hard,” Jason admitted, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” She looked up, smiled, tears stinging again. “I want you to know that there’s a part of me that wants to fight you now. And I’m struggling—because maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. I haven’t  yet. Maybe that would work. If I cried, and I begged you to—” Her voice trembled, and swallowed. “If I begged you to stay. To love me. To choose me.” The tears spilled over the edge, hot and torrid, and she pressed her hands to her face, horrified. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I’m not doing that — I just—I said it out loud, and it hurt so much—” She threw up her hands when he started across the room. “No. No. You made a decision, okay, and if you come over here, you’ll hold me, and we’ll never get through this and we’ll keep doing this stupid dance over and over again until I can’t breath anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m messing this up. I’m hurting you, I’m hurting her—”

“And yourself. You’re hurting you, and you won’t say that. Because you never do—you always put yourself last, and I’m trying so hard to put you first, okay? Because you’re what matters.”

“You matter, too—” But Jason stayed where he was, though his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, as if that was the only way to protect himself. “You do. And—”

“You have to do this. Because you were happy with her before it all went to hell. You were happy and you loved her, and you wanted to marry her,” Elizabeth said. “So you have to do this. You need to go be sure that you can’t get that back. I promise you, I understand. I do.”

“Maybe this would be easier if you didn’t,” Jason muttered and she smiled. “If you were angry at me, or throwing things—”

“Oh, yeah, it definitely would be,” Elizabeth said, with teary-eyed laughter. She  smiled at him. “I love you. And I want you to be happy. I told you yesterday, and I meant that. If it’s with her, I wish you happiness. I do, Jason.”

“If you need me, if you need anything—”

“I know where to find you. I always do.” She wrapped her arms around herself, smiled. “It’s better this way. You know? I’d always wonder if you loved me or you were staying because you’d blown everything else up and had no where to go. We’re not those people, Jason. We’d never be happy if it came at her expense, would we?”

“No,” he said softly. He came forward now, and this time she let him. “No, we  wouldn’t.” He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the last of her tears. “I want you to be happy, too. You deserve it. Promise me you’ll be happy.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Elizabeth said and he closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll try, though. Okay?”

Jason gently kissed her  forehead, his lips lingering. She put one hand around his wrist, the way she had long ago day the first time he’d left her. Then he looked at her, and she braced herself for the goodbye.

“I’ll see you later,” he told her, and she smiled again.

“I’ll see you later,” she echoed.

And then he left.

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