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Twenty-Eight
Wednesday, October 18th
Liv was discharged from the Waverly County Emergency Room, her mind still reeling from the shock of the car explosion. Turk and Luke wheeled her to Jackson's room, their expressions filled with concern as they helped her into the seat beside their unconscious friend.
“Thank you, both of you,” Liv murmured as she squeezed their hands tightly. “But please, don't tell my family about what happened with the car. Not yet.”
Turk and Luke exchanged a knowing glance. With a nod, they left her alone with Jackson, understanding her need to be with him.
Left to her own thoughts, a sense of overwhelming grief washed over her as she sat beside Jackson's bed, filled with worry for him. Charlotte had taken Martha home, and no one else was in the room.
Liv reached out to grasp Jackson's hand, her fingers intertwining with his as she held on tightly, afraid to let go. He was no longer intubated but was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula.
As she sat by his side, words tumbled from her lips in a rush of desperation and fear. “I found pieces of a device, Jackson,” she whispered. “Just like you did. Michael knew there was an explosive inside. And I-I can't shake the feeling that he might be involved somehow. He was born in Waverly Junction. And he shares the same birthday as you.”
Liv's voice faltered as she recounted the recent events in the aftermath of the warehouse fire. Tears welled in her eyes as she confessed her deepest fears to her unconscious lover, “I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. But I love you. More than anything in this world.”
As she spoke those words, Jackson's fingers twitched in hers, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he whispered those four little words that meant everything to her: “I love you too.”
Liv pressed the call bell, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. With a shaky breath, she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her as she made her way to Jackson's bedside. She looked into his emerald eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Reaching out to caress his cheek, her fingers traced the contours of his face.
Unable to contain her feelings, Liv peppered his face with kisses. Jackson chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes even as he groaned with discomfort from his fractured ribs.
“Livvy, no face baths,” he teased, his playful spirit shining through.
With a watery laugh, Liv leaned in to press her forehead against his.
* * *
Liv made her way to Turk and Luke, leaving the intensivist with Jackson. “He's awake,” her voice trembled. “Jackson is awake.”
Jackson’s colleagues exchanged excited glances, faces lighting up with joy. Without missing a beat, they followed her back to his room.
As they entered, the ICU intensivist was examining Jackson, his expression focused and attentive as he assessed his patient's condition. But as soon as he saw Liv, Turk and Luke, his demeanor softened, a smile spreading across his face.
“Good news, all,” he said, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Mr. Reynolds seems to be making a remarkable recovery.”
Turk and Luke smiled, still maintaining a level of stoicism. Tears prickled at the corners of Liv’s eyes again as she watched them, her heart swelling with love, not only for Jackson but for the two brave men who stood by her side through it all.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Jackson murmured. “Did you miss me?”
A laugh bubbled up from deep within her. “More than you'll ever know.”
* * *
Friday, October 20th
Two days later, Jackson was moved to a regular room, his arm cradled in a sling to protect his injured shoulder and ribs. Liv walked beside him in the hospital hallway, her hand clasped tightly in his.
As they walked, Jackson couldn't help but notice the slight limp in Liv's step. Concern etched his features as he glanced down at her, his voice gentle as he broached the subject. “Livvy, why are you limping?” His brow furrowed with worry. “Is everything okay?”
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering away before she met his eyes once more. “I'll tell you everything,” she promised, “but let's get you back to your room first.”
With a nod of agreement, Jackson allowed Liv to lead him back to his room. Once he was settled in bed, she took a deep breath, as if to steel herself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“I’m still waiting for the forensics to come back. I hurt my leg escaping from my burning car,” she began. “It was... terrifying.”
Emotions flickered across Jackson's face. Without missing a beat, Liv launched into the events the night of the warehouse explosion. She told him about the fire in the woods, hearing his mayday call, and his brave rescue of the burned woman. But as she recounted the moments that followed—passing the evidence in the tomato can to Michael—she hesitated, doubt flashing across her features.
