Chapter 32
thirty-two
Liana
Coming back doesn’t feel like waking.
It feels like being dragged.
Like something is pulling me up through layers I don’t want to move through, thick and heavy and wrong, my body resisting it even as my lungs try to take in air that doesn’t come properly at first.
There’s weight everywhere.
In my limbs.
In my chest.
In my head.
Like I’ve been underwater too long and my body hasn’t figured out how to exist outside of it yet.
Then the pain comes.
Sharp enough to split through everything.
It hits low and to the side, deep and burning, like something inside me has been torn open and stitched back together wrong, and the sound that leaves me is small and broken before I even realize it’s mine.
My body reacts before my mind does, a weak attempt to curl in on itself, to move away from it and it only makes it worse.
The pain spikes, stealing the breath from my lungs, dragging me further up whether I want it or not, forcing me into awareness I’m not ready for.
I try to breathe through it.
It doesn’t work.
Everything feels too tight.
Too heavy.
Too wrong.
And then something shifts.
Warmth. Solid. Wrapped around me. Not the cold hard floor. Not restraints.
The scent hits first.
Familiar.
Deep.
Grounding.
It cuts through the panic before it can take hold properly, something instinctive in me latching onto it before I even fully understand why.
My fingers twitch weakly where they’re pressed against something warm, something solid, something that moves with me instead of against me.
Elijah.
The name forms before I can say it.
My throat feels dry, unused, the word catching as I try to push it out.
“Elijah…”
It barely comes out.
A breath more than a word.
But it’s enough.
Everything around me shifts instantly.
The arm around me tightens, not enough to hurt, just enough to anchor, to hold, and then there’s movement, fast and sudden in contrast to everything else still dragging behind.
His head lifts. I feel it before I see it. Then his face is there. His eyes searching mine like he’s trying to make sure I’m real.
“Angel?”
His voice is rough.
Not just tired.
Worn.
Like something has been scraped raw.
I blink slowly, trying to focus on him, trying to hold onto the fact that he’s here, that this is real and not something my mind is giving me because it doesn’t want to go back to...
“Elijah…” I say again, and this time it comes out clearer, even as it shakes.
His hand comes up immediately, cradling my face, his touch careful in a way I’ve never felt from him before.
“I’m here,” he says, and there’s something in it that makes my chest tighten. “You’re safe. You’re safe, angel. I’ve got you.”
Safe.
The word doesn’t settle straight away. Because the last thing I remember...
My chest tightens.
“You found me…”
It comes out small. Uncertain. Like I need him to confirm it. His expression changes. Breaks in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
“I will always find you,” he says quietly, and there’s something underneath it, something raw and absolute that settles deep in my chest. “Always. You’re mine… my wife…”
His thumb brushes my cheek.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel it.
“I’m so sorry.”
The words slip out of him, low and rough, and something about the way he says them makes my stomach twist.
Movement hits the edge of my vision and suddenly the space shifts again.
“Sweetheart.”
“Baby...”
Jackson’s hand is on mine before I can even process it, warm and steady, his thumb moving over my skin like he needs to feel me, like he needs to make sure I’m not disappearing again.
Zach’s hand comes to my arm, grounding, solid, his touch firm but careful.
I try to reach for them properly.
My body doesn’t let me.
Pain tears through my side again, sharper this time, stealing the breath from my lungs as I flinch.
“Hey, no, don’t.” Jackson’s voice tightens as he steadies my hand.
“Easy,” Zach says, lower, closer, his hand shifting slightly to support me without moving me.
They don’t pull away.
They come closer.
Elijah is still beside me. Still holding me.
All of them are touching me. All of them are here. And something inside me cracks under the weight of it.
“I thought...” My voice breaks, the words catching in my throat. “I thought I wasn’t...”
“You’re safe.”
Elijah’s voice cuts through it. Firm. Certain.
“He’s gone.”
The words land differently. Heavy.
“Paul…”
The name feels wrong in my mouth. Distant. But not gone enough.
Elijah’s hand tightens slightly where it holds me.
“He’s gone,” he repeats, quieter now. “He won’t ever touch you again.”
There’s something in it.
Something final.
Something that settles deep enough that I don’t question it. Before I can sit with that properly, the door opens.
“Oh, wonderful, you’re awake.”
The nurse steps in, her voice bright in a way that feels too sharp against everything else, her eyes moving quickly over me, over them, over the way Elijah is still on the bed beside me.
“I’m going to need a little space...”
“We’re not leaving.”
All three of them say at once.
The nurse pauses, clearly not surprised.
“You don’t have to leave,” she says, already adjusting, “just, back up a little so I can check her.”
They move.
Barely.
Still close enough that I can feel them.
She touches my side and I flinch before I can stop it, the pain still sharp, still real, her hands moving carefully as she checks things I don’t fully track.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“Sore,” I manage, my voice still uneven. “And… sick. But—”
I swallow.
“My head’s clear.”
The shift in the room is immediate. I feel it. They feel it. Before anything can settle, the door opens again.
The doctor steps in.
He speaks.
Words.
Explanations.
I catch pieces of it, enough to understand that I’m here, that I’m alive, that my body is… holding together.
Then he hesitates.
“Now that you are awake, we need to ask a few questions. Since we weren’t sure when you would wake and time was important, with your husband’s permission we had a rape kit run to ensure that nothing happened.” He swallows as Elijah stiffens beside me.
“He didn’t... not while I was awake. It never got that far.” I whisper and I can feel the tension in the room as the doctor nods.
“That’s helpful to know. The kit came back negative as well.” He adds and I hear the exhales from Zach and Jackson. Part of me had feared that Paul had done things while I was out and knowing that it was clear eased my mind a little, knowing that hadn’t been taken from me.
“There’s something else.” The doctor says.
Something in me tightens again.
“What is it?”
“You’re pregnant.”
Everything inside me goes still.
“I’m… pregnant?”
The words don’t feel like mine.
“You’re approximately six weeks along,” he says, continuing, his voice steady, like this is normal. “Everything looks promising so far.”
Promising.
I don’t know what to do with that. He leaves, giving us time alone and the silence that follows is different. Heavier.
I look at them. All three of them.
“Sweetheart… are you okay?” Jackson says softly.
“I’m pregnant,” I say again, because it still doesn’t feel real.
He nods, a soft smile pulling at his mouth.
“Yeah,” he says gently.
Then, softer, lighter, like he’s trying to give me something to hold onto that isn’t fear.
“Can’t say I’m surprised. We weren’t exactly trying to stop it.”
A broken laugh escapes me before I can stop it, the sound catching with everything else still sitting in my chest.
My gaze shifts.
Zach.
Elijah.
Something tightens again.
“We didn’t talk about this,” I say quietly. “This… with everything…”
Zach’s eyes soften, his hand still steady on me.
“Are you okay, Lia?”
I look at him.
“Are you?”
The question hangs there.
Elijah moves before anything else can.
His hand comes to my face again, steady, grounding.
“Angel,” he says, and there’s something in it that stops everything else from spiraling. “Stop.”
His eyes hold mine.
“You’re my wife,” he says quietly. “The woman I love. The woman I want my future with.”
His thumb brushes my cheek.
“Having a baby with you… is the most precious thing I could have.”
Something in my chest loosens.
Just enough. I nod slowly tears slipping down my temples.
Zach steps closer.
“I love you,” he says, and it lands deep, steady, real. “I want everything with you. A family. The school runs. The chaos. All of it.”
My chest tightens.
I look at Jackson.
“You’re so young...”
“Stop.”
His hand comes up, warm against my face, steadying me.
“My age doesn’t matter,” he says quietly. “What I want is you. What I need is you.”
His thumb brushes under my eye.
“A baby doesn’t change that. It just… adds to it.”
My breath shakes.
“So stop worrying about us,” he adds, softer now. “And let yourself feel it… because you’re going to be a mama.”
The word hits somewhere deep.
A laugh breaks out of me at the same time the tears come harder, the two colliding in a way I can’t control.
He leans in, kissing me gently.
“Don’t you ever leave me again, sweetheart.”
I nod. I can’t speak. I feel them, their hands on me, grounding me, holding me here.
And everything hits at once.
The fear.
The pain.
The memory of it.
The relief.
The fact that they found me.
That I’m here.
That I didn’t...
I break.
Completely.
The sobs come without warning, tearing through me, my body shaking with it as they close in, their hands tightening, their voices low, steady, grounding me through it.
I’m here.
I’m alive.
They found me.
I’m not alone anymore.