A/N: Thanks for all your feedback ... Keep it coming! But please don't lynch me! LOL!

FNF 27: Hopes, Fears … and Carly

Prompt: There is love, of course and then there's life, its enemy. ~ Jean Anouilh

Carly brushed past Ritchie impatiently, insisting, "Look, I'm just gonna leave Jason a note. Little miss perfect won't mind that, will she?"

Ritchie said, "Mrs. Morgan isn't here right now." Carly couldn't restrain a flinch when he used that name, and apparently he couldn't resist saying it again – and again. "Mrs. Morgan went shopping and won't be back for several hours, so feel free to take your time. Mrs. Morgan has no reason to be concerned about whatever you might want to tell her husband."

She glared at him until he left, leaving the door ajar, as if he didn't trust her to be completely alone in Jason's home. As if she hadn't been alone in there a million times before. Of course, that was all before the little muffin-face had stolen Jason away from her. She had hardly seen him in the past three months, since he spent practically every minute that he wasn't working with the little woman. Even when he did spend time with her, it was never just the two of them anymore. It was always with Sonny and the little bitch there, too. She had tried everything she could think of to get him alone, because she just knew she could win him back – could make him see how his stupid cow of a wife was using him. But he simply avoided her as much as possible, and if he couldn't avoid her, he made sure other people were around, too.

So she was going to leave him a note. She had invented a crisis, by picking a fight with Sonny, and she was gonna say she was taking Michael and leaving town forever. That was bait he wouldn't be able to resist, even if he thought it might be a setup. He'd be too worried about what it would mean if it wasn't.

Making her way over to the desk, she looked for a piece of paper and a pen. Instead, she found an envelope sitting right in the middle of the desk, with Jason's name on it in a feminine hand. So the little witch is leaving him love notes, now? We'll see about that.

She couldn't have him distracted from her impending flight from town by some stupid lovesick poem. Picking it up, she turned it over and paused only briefly before opening it. She could make up something if necessary – she could say that she hadn't seen any note if she was ever asked about it. She opened the note and began to read.

Dear Jason,

I know you've been worried about me lately, and I'm sorry that I haven't been able to find the courage to talk to you about what's bothering me. I want you to know that it's not your fault – I'm just a coward, I guess. I can't stand the thought of how you'll look at me when I say this to you, so I finally realized that the only way to tell you is to write you a letter.

Carly snorted. It seemed things weren't so perfect if little Lizzie was afraid to tell Jason something. It was probably something stupid, anyway. Maybe she had overspent on his credit card buying all this ridiculous new furniture. Carly forced herself to keep reading, and the next sentence had her fighting a very strong urge to vomit.

First, let me tell you that I've fallen in love with you. I didn't mean to, but it just happened. I know you think you've ruined my life or something, but the past few months have been the happiest time in my life. I've been able to love you, even though I never told you, and you've been so wonderful, that I've been able to pretend that you love me, too.

Carly snorted again. Yeah, keep pretending, princess. Jason could never love someone as insipid as you. Again, she forced her attention back to the letter.

Jason, the thing I've been so afraid to tell you is that I'm pregnant. Carly felt the bile rising in her throat – he had gotten her pregnant?! Now he would be stuck with her forever! But the next sentence made her feel a little better. It happened on our honeymoon, I guess, before you said you wanted to slow things down. Please believe that if I had known you didn't want children, I would have made every effort to prevent this, but by the time I knew, it was already too late. I should probably also tell you that I never once considered terminating this pregnancy, even though you might have preferred that, because I already love our baby so much that I can't imagine being without him or her. But please don't feel obligated in any way. I have some money saved up, and if you would rather not be part of this baby's life, or mine, we'll be fine. I'll miss you, and I'll always love you, but I'll be fine, and so will the baby.

I've decided to go back to Las Vegas for a little while. We were so happy there, together, and I just need some time away, and I need to know that you've had some time to process this on your own, too. I know that as soon as you read this, your first impulse will be to run after me – here, Carly ignored the little voice that whispered that her nemesis apparently knew Jason pretty well – but I want you to take some time and think about what you want. I don't ever want you to feel trapped or stuck with me, so please only come and get me if you really, truly want to, in the depth of your heart and soul. I couldn't live with myself if you started to resent me, Jason, and if you don't really want to be with me – with us – that's what will happen. So please don't get all noble on me and come after me just because you think you should.

Emily says that I'm crazy to think you really don't want children with me – she says it's obvious that you love me and that even if you didn't think you wanted children before, you'll be happy now that it's happening anyway. Carly wished Emily would just mind her own business. Muffin-face didn't need any encouragement. But as you know, Emily doesn't know the whole story, and of course I can't tell her. Carly briefly wondered what the "whole story" was, but decided she would probably find out eventually and didn't need to know right now. I can't help hoping she's right, but I know it's probably wishful thinking. That was exactly what it was, Carly thought triumphantly.

Anyway, now you know, and you can decide what you want. If you don't want to be with us, I'll probably stay in Vegas and start over. It's as good a place as any to file for divorce, I guess. Either way, I love you, and I always will.

Elizabeth

Carly re-read the letter, trying to figure out what to do. Jason was too noble for his own good, and muffin-face's entreaties aside, he probably wouldn't waste a minute going after her if he got this letter.

Which meant, she decided, that he simply couldn't get the letter. It would have to be lost, and it was up to her to make that happen – to protect him from himself and from his "wife". She considered whether Emily knowing about the pregnancy would be a problem, and decided the young woman would probably turn against her BFF if she believed Lizzie had dumped her brother and disappeared without a word.

She put the letter and envelope into her purse, quickly grabbed paper and a pen and scribbled a note to Jason – not the one she had intended to leave, of course, now that her nemesis had left on her own. Just, "Stopped by to talk, give me a call. C."

As she left the penthouse, she said, "See you later, Ritchie," as if nothing was amiss.

Because it wasn't. Everything was finally back the way it should be.

XXXXXXXXX

Jason's cell phone rang as he left Sonny's office. Seeing that it was Max, he frowned in sudden concern. Max was guarding Elizabeth today. Taking a calming breath, he assured himself it was nothing, and forced himself to answer the phone. "What's happening?"

"Um," Max replied, and Jason's stomach knotted. "Um, well, don't panic or anything, but … I think I … um … lost Mrs. Morgan."

Jason's voice was low and deadly when he replied. "You what?"

Max's words came in a rush. "She went into the ladies room at Wyndham's, and then after a while, when she didn't come out, I asked the saleslady to check and it was empty. And then I checked myself, and she was gone. But I swear, Jason, I checked before I let her go in, and there was no one there. I don't know what happened." Despite his own anxiety, Jason recognized Max's distress – the usually stoic man sounded near tears.

"Calm down, Max," Jason ordered, ruthlessly suppressing incipient panic. "You're sure no one went in or out after she went in there?"

"No way, Jason. I was standing right in front of the door, blocking it. There's no way," he said again.

"What about windows?"

"There was one small window, Jason, but it was up high and it was too small for anyone dangerous to get in. And anyway, I was right in front of the door. I would have heard a struggle."

"I'll be right there. Stay put, but get every available man looking for her."

Jason disconnected, and as he sped toward Wyndham's, he forced himself to think. He trusted Max – knew the man would never have let Elizabeth go into the ladies room without checking it as carefully as he had described. Which meant that he would find things exactly as Max had described – a secure bathroom with a tiny, high window, no Elizabeth, and no sign of struggle. And that meant that no one had taken Elizabeth against her will.

Which in turn meant that she had left voluntarily.

Trying not to overreact, Jason thought maybe she just needed some time alone. Maybe she was tired of having someone with her 24/7. Maybe she had felt stifled and gone for a walk in the park or something, and would be waiting at home to cajole him out of yelling at her for scaring him.

He really wanted to believe that that's what had happened. Just last night, she had made love to him more passionately than he could ever remember, and he had thought she might finally tell him what was bothering her. Instead, she had waited until she thought he was asleep, and she had pressed a kiss to his lips and whispered so softly that he wasn't sure he heard her right, "I love you." And he had felt a single tear drop onto his cheek before she had put her head on his chest and gone to sleep.

He had hoped that they would finally talk in the morning. He had planned to tell her he loved her, too, but she had been sleeping so peacefully when he had to leave that he hadn't wanted to disturb her. So he had waited, thinking he would tell her tonight.

But now he realized that regardless of her words, she had actually been saying good-bye. She had finally decided she didn't want to be married to a criminal and she had left.

And she had taken his heart with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth stepped out of the airport and fought a wave of nausea as the desert heat hit her. She paused to put on her sunglasses and take a sip of water. Looking around, she finally spied the limo waiting for her. She might not have recognized it, but her concierge friend Andrew had come for her himself, instead of just sending one of the Bellagio's usual drivers. "Mrs. Morgan!" he called happily, as he approached and took her bag. "Is this all the luggage you brought?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm going to shop for some new things, anyway, so I figured I would pack light." She smiled. "It's good to see you, Andrew, but you didn't have to come yourself, and you're supposed to call me Elizabeth, remember?"

"Oh, right, sorry, Mrs. – I mean, Elizabeth. And I like to give special treatment to our special patrons, so here I am. Will Mr. Morgan be joining you later on this trip?"

"I – I'm not sure. He might not be able to get away right now," she hedged. Uncomfortable, she changed the topic. "I had forgotten how hot it gets here."

He laughed and said, "Well, yes. This is the desert." And he kept her entertained with gossip about the sin city for the rest of the drive to the hotel.

XXXXXXXXX

Two hours later, having napped briefly and then eaten a light dinner from room service, Elizabeth sank into the tub in the luxury suite she had been escorted to by the bell captain. Even though it wasn't the honeymoon suite this time, the bubble bath was the same, and the scent brought back vivid images of her wedding and honeymoon. She remembered every detail, reliving it in her mind, until she realized tears were trickling down her cheeks and the water had grown cold. Shivering, she opened the drain and stood, wrapping herself in the plush terrycloth robe the hotel had provided.

She was suddenly so very tired that she didn't even take time to dry her hair or change into her pajamas. She simply crawled into bed and turned out the lights. Just before she fell asleep, she whispered a single word – a prayer, really – into the darkness.

"Please."