"Just having a little man-to-man talk. I'll see you later, Jordan," he said, before giving her a kiss on the cheek and leaving.
"Hi," she said softly, "How are you doing?"
"Fine," he answered curtly, still shocked by Max's words.
"You feeling better than this morning?"
"Yes," he said harshly.
"Oh," she sighed, "Do you want me to get you anything? I bought some magazines for you on my way over," Jordan pulled out the various magazines and placed them on his bedside cabinet.
"Thank you," he said formally, still not breaking his icy glare.
Not sure how much more she could take today, Jordan nodded, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before saying, "I'll see you tomorrow," then she left.
Woody POV
Max's words still rung in my ears, "She loves you, everything. Faults, weaknesses, paralysed or walking, all of you." How could she? He was paralysed, no feeling from his hips down, including his genitalia. How would she love him in a wheelchair? How could she love him if he was impotent? How on earth could she love him if he could never make love to her? "Think about it," Max had said, he was thinking but it made no sense.
She couldn't love him with all his injuries, it had to be pity. Tomorrow , if she came and visited, like she said she would, he would explain that she couldn't love him and that she deserved more.
Jordan POV
I headed back to my apartment, shocked by my father's appearance at Woody's hospital room. I had only heard the last think that my father had said, "Just think about it, Woody." Think about what? Think about getting better? Think about staying healthy? Think about an alternative career? Think about changing something? Think about WHAT? It had only been 10 minutes and it was already driving me insane. Knowing I wouldn't get any rest until I did know, I headed to the one place I knew he would be; the bar.
I arrived, parked my car, and strode into the bar, looking for Max.
"Dad," I called in the vacant space.
"What can I do for you, Jordan?"
"What did you tell Woody to think about?" I asked, straight to the point.
"You."
"Me? What do you mean, me?"
"I told him to think about what he was throwing away."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what did he say?"
"He thinks you're pitying him."
"I know that. Anything else?" I asked impatiently.
"He wants to know how you could love him if he's incapable."
"But that doesn't matter," I protested.
"Don't tell me that; tell him."
"I have. He doesn't listen. I'll go back tomorrow and try again," I paused, "Thanks Dad." Giving him a small kiss, I strode out of the bar and headed home.
The last thought she had before falling asleep, was that she had to straighten out this thing with Woody.
The following morning, Jordan woke early, hoping to catch Woody before he headed to rehab. Fortunately, when she arrived, Woody was still sleeping peacefully. Entering the room quietly, she paused as she looked at him. His toes were moving, which she took as a good sign. Gently she sat in the chair by his bed, and grasped his hand.
A few minutes later, Jordan fell asleep, still holding his hand tightly. Woody woke up a few minutes after, finding Jordan sleeping like that. Not knowing how much sleep she got, Woody stayed quiet, trying to remove his hand. As soon as the contact was lost, Jordan woke and looked up at Woody.
"Good Morning."
"Morning."
"How are you? I noticed that you can move your toes," she said gently.
"Yeah, started last night."
"Oh, about last night. What did Max talk to you about?"
"Why Max and not Dad?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"You're not changing the subject. Now answer the question."
"Why do you love me?" he asked.
"Is that what you talked about?"
"Please Jordan, why?"
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked rhetorically, "Okay, you're sweet, kind, loyal, compassionate and charming. You've always backed me up, and gotten me out of heaps of trouble. You have been so patient with me, even when I hurt you. I don't know how I couldn't love you, Woody. I've loved you since before California. I was just scared, that I'd get hurt, but it hurts more not to have you at all."
"So you just decided to tell me when I almost die so that you can have a clear conscience?"
"No, I tried to tell you after you said to return the ring. I was about to call you and ask you to come so I could tell you that I loved you."
"I don't know what to say."
"You say one of two things. One, you accept that I love you and we move forward or two, you don't accept it and I leave. I can't stay here and continue to have my heart broken if you don't accept it."
"But Jordan,"
"No, it's simple. Yes or No. I'll come back this afternoon."
Gently she bent forward and placed a kiss on his forehead before whispering, "I love you," and then she left, leaving Woody with an ultimatum and some very confused thoughts.
Should he say yes? Should he say no? If he said yes, he would gain something he never thought possible. But he would be a burden, one he wasn't willing to be, but if she was sure she wanted it, then why shouldn't he accept it? Because he didn't want to burden her. But if he said no, he could lose the best thing that had ever happened to him. He would never see her again and he wasn't sure he wanted to live without her. She said she would leave because it would hurt too much. Before he could reach a decision, the rehab nurse had arrived and he had no more time for thought on the subject.
Jordan, meanwhile, had been more engaged in her work, trying to forget about the consequences of the ultimatum she had given Woody. Possibilities flew through her head, if he said yes, if he said no. Although she desperately wanted him to say yes, she was preparing herself mentally, emotionally and psychically for a no. She had typed a resignation, bought boxes to pack, organised both her home and office and written small farewell notes to each member of her 'family'. Finally, after many hours of preparing herself and working, leaving no cases or files unfinished, Jordan left heading to the hospital to see Woody for what may be the last time.
