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Luke nodded in understanding, his expression softening with concern. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I'm signing on for my shift. See you tomorrow.”
With a grateful smile, Olivia waved. “Thanks, Luke. See you tomorrow.”
She started the engine and put the car in gear, the familiar hum soothing her frayed nerves. With a deep breath, she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the darkened streets of Waverly Junction. The journey to the hospital passed in a blur, the silence of the empty roads punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of her tires against the pavement.
As she pulled into the hospital parking lot, Olivia's thoughts turned to Jackson. With a silent prayer on her lips, she parked in an empty spot.
With a final glance at the dimly lit building before her, she stepped out of the car and made her way inside, hoping Jackson was in better condition than when she left.
Twenty-Five
Tuesday, October 17th
With her badge hanging around her neck, Olivia navigated through the familiar hustle of the emergency room. It hadn’t slowed down since she left hours earlier. Approaching the nurses’ station, she requested to speak with Dr. Everhart, her mind racing with questions about Jackson's condition.
Before she could inquire further, Sophie emerged from a nearby patient room, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her sister. Without hesitation, she enveloped Olivia in a tight hug, a silent reassurance passing between them. “He's out of the hyperbaric chamber and in the ICU,” Sophie relayed, her voice tinged with relief. “He's responding.”
Olivia's shoulders sagged with relief at the news. She longed to see Jackson. “Is he going to be okay?”
Sophie continued, “He’s being kept heavily sedated to allow his body to rest and recover from the other injuries. The big concern is still his airway. Pulmonary will want to scope him. He has some facial burns that will heal. Add his six broken ribs and a broken shoulder. I don’t know how he managed to rescue the burned woman.”
She listened as Sophie outlined Jackson's prognosis.
“Mom finally managed to convince Martha to lie down and rest.” The news brought a small smile to Olivia's lips.
After a final hug of thanks, Olivia made her way to the ICU, her footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. The nurses greeted her with sympathetic smiles as they allowed her entry into Jackson's room, granting her a moment of privacy with him.
Olivia sat beside Jackson's bed in the ICU room, a soft glow emanating from the monitors casting a gentle light across his still form. She found herself lost in a one-sided conversation.
“Hey, Jackson,” she began softly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace that surrounded them. “It's me, Liv. I hope you can hear me.”
She paused, her gaze lingering on his peaceful face, willing him to wake up, to respond in some way. But he remained still, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with the aid of the machines he was tethered to.
“I just wanted to tell you that you're a hero, Jackson,” Olivia continued, her words filled with emotion. “What you did in that warehouse—saving that woman—it was incredible. You're incredible.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. “God, I’ve cried more today than I did when my dad died. I hope he understands in the ether somewhere.” She reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Jackson's forehead, her touch tender and loving.
“I know you're going through a lot right now,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “But I want you to know that you're not alone. We're all here for you, Jackson. Your mom, Sophie, my family, your company, me—we're all rooting for you.”
A faint smile tugged at Olivia's lips as she again recalled memories of their time together, moments of laughter and camaraderie that now seemed like a distant dream. She longed for the day when they could share those moments again, when Jackson would be awake and healthy, his infectious grin lighting up the room.
“I miss you, Jackson,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I know you need this time to rest. Happiness through pharmaceuticals, right?”
Filling a basin with warm water, Olivia carefully began to wash his face around the tubes and monitors, her movements gentle and deliberate. With each stroke, she whispered words of encouragement, her heart aching with the desire for Jackson to wake up and know that he was not alone.
As she tended to him, Olivia found peace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, a silent vow passing between them that she would be there for him every step of the way, no matter what the future held. And as she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, she prayed for his swift recovery, knowing his journey was just beginning.
She settled back into her chair, vowing to stay by his side, to continue speaking to him, even if he couldn't respond. In that moment, all that mattered was being there for him, offering him the comfort and support he needed to fight his way back.
* * *
Sophie's touch was gentle yet urgent as she shook Liv awake. “I’m sorry to wake you.”
“What’s wrong?” Liv sat up straight in the chair.
Sophie chewed her lip. “I’m going home. The intensive care team is taking him back to the hyperbaric chamber. He’s still in trouble. I made sure they have your number if something changes.” She crossed her arms and stared at Jackson. “Liv, don’t get your expectations too high.”
With a silent nod, Liv rose from the lounger. “Jackson,” she whispered softly and leaned down to press a tender kiss to his forehead. She followed Sophie out of the room.
