Written in 61 minutes.

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Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey, you.” Carly rose from the dining table by the windows, bracing one hand against her lower back, struggling with gravity. Jason hurried over to help, but she waved him off. “I’ve got it. Thanks. It’s nice to see you when, well—” She cleared her throat, went over to the beverage bar. “Did you eat yet? Coffee?”

“I’m good. I just—” Jason folded his arms. “I wanted to check on you. When Sonny wasn’t around.”

Her hand stilled as she poured a glass of orange juice, then she looked at him with a sad smile. “Why? Do you think I won’t tell the truth if he’s here?”

“I think,” he said carefully, “that you and I walk a careful line when he’s like this. And you’re a little bit more in the line of fire than I am. You’ve been through a lot with this pregnancy, Carly. I just want to get you to the finish line in one piece.”

“You’re too good to me. Really, I mean that, Jase. You’ve turned your whole life upside down for…” She tipped her head, her dark eyes studying him. “Longer than I think I’ve given you credit for. Right now, today, Sonny and I are okay. He’s managing his—God, he’d hate me for saying it—his paranoia or anxiety or whatever about Lorenzo. And that’s because of you. I know that.”

“I just remind him what he already knows Carly. When he’s clear-headed, he knows better,” Jason assured her. “It’s just—”

“There’s no warning when that fog descends. I know you hate being in the middle, but lately, I guess it just feels like we can’t function without you.”

Jason tried not to grimace at that, but he wasn’t able to keep his expression blank. Carly smiled thinly. “You hate that. We’re adults, and we should do this without you, I know it. I’m going to do better, Jase. I told Max not to come get you the next time—”

“I don’t—” He stopped. Because he did mind, and she knew it. “He’ll get past this. He always does.”

“Well, until then, I’m going to return the favor you’ve done for me by focusing entirely on you,” Carly declared.

“Why did all the hairs on the back of my neck just stand up?” Jason asked, and she laughed, heading for the sofa, straightening the throw pillows. “Don’t worry about me, Carly. I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re not really needed for this part anyway. Don’t worry—Courtney and I have it already in hand. I’ve almost got her talked into a backup venue — though Elizabeth agreeing almost made me change my mind—”

Jason frowned at her. “What? Venue? Elizabeth? What are you talking about?”

“The wedding.” Carly squinted at him. “Jase, I know guys aren’t really into this kind of thing, but five weeks isn’t a lot of time. You’re going to have do some things—”

“There’s no wedding,” Jason cut in sharply, and Carly closed her mouth, looked at him, baffled. “We didn’t set a new date.”

“You—Courtney said next month. October 19. Anniversary of your first kiss—though that threw me,” she admitted. “I didn’t realize how soon that all was, but whatever. It all worked out I guess. You don’t have to worry, Jase. Just put the tux on and show up—”

“We didn’t set a new date,” Jason repeated, and this time his voice had an edge that he didn’t even recognize.

“Okay. Message received. No wedding. But you should probably make sure Courtney knows that.” She folded her arms. “Is…there something wrong? I know you’d rather gnaw your arm off than tell me anything, but you can trust me.”

He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. He and Carly had settled into friendship, sure, but she’d attached herself to Courtney. And her hatred of Elizabeth had never ebbed for a second. Carly was the last person he could ever talk to about this.

“It’s fine. I just don’t want you going around telling people something that isn’t happening.” People like Elizabeth—did she think they’d set another date for the wedding? Barely a week after—

He swallowed hard. “I have to go,” he muttered, then left, leaving Carly staring at him, bewildered.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Nikolas watched as Ric left, then turned back to raise his brows at Elizabeth. “Now, I know I’m not exactly a regular here,” he said, “but I’ve been here three or four times the last week. And he’s been here every time.”

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, then picked up the dishes Ric had left behind. He always sat at the counter so she’d be forced to serve him. “Every day since I started the opening shift last week. It’s like…it’s like he knows when I’m working.”

“Tell Mike. You know he’ll switch you,” Nikolas said.

“I don’t want to make any waves.” And she didn’t want another shift. Jason never came in between opening and early lunch rush. Courtney did, though. Every day for the last week. Flashing that ring. Talking about the wedding. Making sure Elizabeth could hear her.

Elizabeth didn’t know if Courtney just wanted to rub it in or hoped that Elizabeth would say something, and Courtney could make a scene — but Elizabeth wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. If Jason had already agreed to set a date next month, well—that was his decision. His choice. And Elizabeth was the other woman — she didn’t get to be angry about it.

And she wasn’t going to compound her own misery by letting Courtney know any of it bothered her.

“I get that, Liz,” Nikolas said, when Elizabeth returned from checking on her customers. “But you have to stick up for yourself—”

“Do I? Because usually that’s your cue to tell me to worry about Lucky and his precious feelings.” The words were snapped out with more irritation than she actually felt and Nikolas sighed, looked away. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help—”

“But you don’t exactly need me to tell you what to do or how to feel,” Nikolas said. “Don’t apologize for the truth, Liz. I like it better when you don’t pretend.”

“Well, then listen to me when I tell you that I don’t want to bother Mike with this—”

“With what?” Mike asked, emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “How’s my best waitress?” he asked with a friendly smile.

“Enjoying the quiet before the rush,” Elizabeth said, sending Nikolas a death glare. He studied her for a long moment, then shook his head.

“Ric’s harassing Elizabeth on her shift—”

“Oh, you son of a—” Elizabeth bit out the last words. “What the hell, Nikolas?”

“I thought about it, and I decided that I’m okay with you being mad at me if it means Ric leaves you alone. Unless you’re thinking of a reconciliation,” Nikolas said, lifting his brows.

“No, but—”

“Then he doesn’t need to be in here every morning bothering you. I listened to you, Elizabeth, and all I heard was you not asking for what you need because you don’t want to bother people.” He dismissed her, looked at Mike. “She needs to switch shifts. Maybe a busier one when there’s more people around and he can’t corner her.”

“Did I hire you as a personal assistant or something? Don’t you have a job? A business?” Elizabeth demanded.

Mike stroked his chin. “We need someone on the post-dinner rush, closing shift, but I don’t know if that’s good—”

It was a horrible choice. That was Jason’s favorite time to come in these days, and she’d done her best to avoid him like the plague for the last year. And he’d obliged by staying away from the morning. She didn’t even realize they’d had that little unspoken agreement until right now.  “I told you, Mike, I don’t want to bother you—”

“It’s not a bother, honey. I know the damage Ric can do, and I don’t want you to worry about him. Why don’t I call Michael? He and Jason—”

“The closing shift is fine,” Elizabeth interrupted, and Nikolas furrowed his brow. “There’s always someone who lingers until we close. It’ll be fine, Mike. Thanks.”

“All right. If you’re sure. You say the word, and I’ll make that call—”

“I’ll remember that.”

Mike went back into the kitchen, and Elizabeth glared at Nikolas. “I liked you better when you were up Gia’s ass. Why don’t you go crawl back up there and butt out?”

“You’re complaining but you know you’re relieved not to deal with Ric tomorrow,” Nikolas said. He held out his cup. “I’ll have a refill.”

“You’re lucky I don’t pour this over your damned head.”

General Hospital: Treatment Room

There were a cluster of treatment chairs in the room, each with their own little cubicle and IV stands. Emily sat in one, her hair pulled back in a low tail, still pale, but her eyes were alert.

“Want one?” she asked, showing him the cherry red Popsicle she held in her hand. “It’s the one perk of chemo.”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He studied her for a long moment. “You look better.”

“Well, still dying, but not nearly dead anymore. Big step up. Don’t make that face,” Emily ordered, when he flinched. “We tell the truth, you and me. That’s our thing. I almost died.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Em. I just…don’t like remembering that…”

“That it’s not over. But I woke up that day and all the rest of them for the last—” she furrowed her brow. “What’s today?”

“September 15,” Jason told her.

“So I made it twelve more days. That’s a victory, Jase. Let me have it.”

“I will.”

“Okay, now that I’ve done my cancer bit, it’s your turn to distract me. And you need to do a better job than Elizabeth,” Emily said. “She’s been taking the afternoon shifts, you know, because she’s back at Kelly’s. Hey, you know how in the Renaissance, artists had, like, patrons?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. “What are we talking about?”

“Elizabeth being back at Kelly’s. Ric got her this art show, but it was just a way to keep her busy while he—well, you know. Anyway, she had to cancel it because—again, you know. I was thinking, could I just pay her to sit and do her art? Like all those famous artists used to do?”

He rubbed his forehead. “What does this have to do with her at Kelly’s?”

“She works too much. And never has time or energy for the art. She’s a good artist. Probably an excellent one, but I don’t know anything. I’ve been thinking since I basically died, that in my next life — which is this one — I’m going to be a better person and think about other people more.”

“You’re a good person—”

“Debatable, but you’re my brother and legally obligated to say that.” She licked her Popsicle, her brow furrowed in thought. “Are you and Elizabeth still not friends? Like, I know things were weird because you broke up with her for Courtney—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“And then there was the Ric thing—which I don’t understand but I guess I’ll have to dig into that when I get out of the hospital—but other than that, is there a reason you’re not friends like you used to be?”

Jason was getting a headache trying to keep up with his sister’s rapid-pace conversation. “Where did all this energy come from?”

“Sugar rush. I’ve been sucking on these things like, well, like candy. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not talking about Elizabeth. Or why—I’m not talking about it,” Jason said firmly.

She frowned at him, then nodded. “Okay, then let’s talk about you. You know, Courtney came to see me yesterday during chemo. I’m glad you guys set the date again. But I don’t know if I’m up to being a bridesmaid by the 19th—”

“She came yesterday?” Jason asked. After he’d talked to Carly, and told Courtney that he wasn’t comfortable setting another date so soon. She’d seemed to understand that. And then she’d immediately gone to Emily and talked about it anyway.

Christ, did she think she could just plan the wedding anyway, shove a tux in front of him and he’d just…go through with it?

“Yes,” Emily drawled, “why?”

“I’m not getting married next month. Or any other month,” Jason said, then winced. “I mean, we didn’t set—”

“Oh, the cat is out of the bag. Don’t try to put it back in. You ever try to put a cat somewhere it doesn’t want to be? Impossible. I heard it. You don’t want to get married anymore?”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Well, damn.” She looked disappointed. “You won’t talk to me about Elizabeth. Or your wedding. That’s a lot of topics not to cover. Unless they’re the same topic.” She grinned at him when he just shook his head. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”

“Eat your Popsicle.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

He couldn’t shake the conversation with Emily, or the grim realization that Courtney had listened to every word he’d said and just done whatever she wanted to do anyway. Carly had just said all he’d have to do was show up—

And what if they just planned it more quietly? What if he did wake up on October 19 and there was a note and a tux, and people were just waiting on him’? What was he going to do? Jilt her at the altar? Was that what Courtney was banking on?

When he came back to the penthouse after the visit, Courtney jerked to her feet, shoving magazines into a pile, but he saw a wedding dress on one of them. He exhaled slowly.

“You didn’t listen to anything I said the other day, did you?” Jason asked. Courtney frowned, shook her head. “The wedding. I told you I’m not setting a date.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. You’re telling people we’re getting married in a month. That’s not happening, Courtney.”

Her mouth was thin. “Well, I can’t believe she waited this long, but I knew she’d crack eventually. What, did Elizabeth come running after I was at Kelly’s yesterday?”

“I haven’t seen Elizabeth in more than a week,” Jason said. “I went to Emily’s chemo appointment today.” She winced, looked away. “You forgot you asked my sister to be a bridesmaid?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure about her chemo — maybe she couldn’t—”

“She can’t but it doesn’t matter. Because we are not getting married on October 19,” Jason said, drawing out each word not even bothered when she flinched in response each time. “Don’t try to make this my fault. I told you this. And you just ignored me.”

“You said you were staying—” Her eyes filled with tears, but he just shook his head. “You said you wanted to get back to where we were—”

“I said that I wasn’t going to throw out everything we’ve been through for this last year, Courtney, not that I wanted to go forward like nothing happened,” Jason interrupted, and she closed her mouth, looked at her hands. “If you want to set a date, if it matters that much to you, then go ahead and set it for never. Because that’s how I feel right now—”

“You don’t get to be angry with me!” she exploded, her head snapping back up, the tears gone. “You slept with another woman!”

“And you said you forgave me, or was that a lie?” he demanded. “What are we doing here? You wanted to give it another chance. And I agreed. Because it’s been almost a year, and that should matter. But you don’t get to have it both ways. You don’t get to tell me you want to work on this and then throw it in my face every time I don’t give you what you want. I don’t know if this is going to work, Courtney, so why would we plan a wedding that isn’t going to happen?”

Courtney swallowed hard. “You think you made a mistake. You’re sorry you picked me.” Her voice was quiet now, and the tears were back, but he wasn’t moved this time.

“What do you want me to do, Courtney? Marry you to prove a point? I’m not going to do that. If you think you can just point me in whatever direction you want me to go, then I don’t know what we’re doing here. I’m trying to work on this. I’m trying to tell you how I feel, and you’re not hearing me.”

“I do—I do hear you, okay? Okay? I do. You don’t want to get married right now. Okay.” Courtney took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just — Carly brought it up and I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her, right? Because she’d make it a whole thing, and I don’t want anyone to know. And she seemed so excited about planning it, I just got carried away. And maybe I thought—God, I just thought if I pretended things were okay, they would be okay. But you’re right. You’re right. We’re not ready to do that. I’m sorry,” she said again. She gathered up the magazine and darted for the stairs before he could say another word.

Jason grimaced, dragged his hands down his face. She’d done it for Carly. Of course. It always came back to Sonny or Carly for them, didn’t it?

He snatched his keys back from the desk and headed for the door. He needed to get out.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth bussed the last few tables, checked on her two remaining customers, then went to the kitchen to drop off the tubs.

“Almost done, aren’t we?” Don, the night cook, asked. He wiped down the grill. “If they order anything else, you shoot them.”

“They’re just finishing up,” Elizabeth assured him. “But don’t worry. If I see them thinking about more fries, I’ll get the paintball gun.” She heard the bells over the door and grimaced. “Please let one of them have left—”

She went back into the dining room, then stopped. So did her new customer.

Because Jason stood there, his hand still on the handle of the door, their eyes meeting.

She didn’t know how long they stared at one another—probably too long, she thought — but finally he came in, letting the door fall closed. He made his way to the counter and took a seat.

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