"I don't wanna fight. Whatever you wanna do, we'll do. J"

She has to gather the courage to read the short note again.

"J", she notes. He simply signed it J.

She uses her sleeve to clean away the heavy flow of tears falling down her burning cheeks. It's in that moment she truly realizes how much she messed up. The restraining order seemed like the best idea at the time, and she was scared to death with the thought of having her baby taken away.

She reaches for the simple white crib, with the big yellow bow. Her palms touch the soft wood as her fingers travel through the harsh materials. "I don't wanna fight." She reads once more, falling down to her knees this time. "Whatever you wanna do, we'll do." That's' the thing she never quite understood about him. How could he always be the voice of reason behind their every storm? How could he take her side on things? Even when it happened last time, with Samuel, he let her have her away. He let her plan her pregnancy and stick to the plan. He let her not know about the baby's gender, even if it was against his will. He let her do all these things even if they killed him. It makes her wonder why he still does… There's a sense of compromise in everything he does. Well, at least about this. Because he compromised too much in the past and now she knows he's over and done with it.

Their marriage seemed to crumble because of that damn word and its meaning: compromise… or the lack of it.

She finds herself on the floor, by the crib. Completely heartbroken and alone. As she breaks down once again, she feels her stomach turn into a black hole, her heart turn into a wild hurricane of emotions, and her mind turn into a heavy river of painful thoughts. "What have you done?" She asks herself, not sure if she can find the right answers. If they were hanging by a fragile string, then now that string has broken, perhaps forever. How could she fix it and begin to explain him her own fears? How could he understand her pain? How could they start over?

.

She sees him at the cafeteria by noon. He doesn't even look her way, but she can tell he feels her presence. Observing from a safe distance, she's isn't ready to face him or the consequences of her actions just yet.

She misses it. She missed sitting across the table from him, and stealing food from his plate. She even misses the angry fake looks he used to give her when she stole one chip too many. And she misses their talks. God, how much she misses talking to him! She misses laughing too. With him. She misses the way his lips slightly parted when he did it, when he smiled. She misses his freckles and the way they hug his nose. She misses his touch and the way his hands always had the power to calm her down. She misses the sound of his voice at night, just as when he was about to sleep. He misses the way he adoringly said her name.

"April?"

Arizona's voice wakes up her from her daydream memories, just to reveal that the dream is over.

.

He doesn't direct one word at her throughout the whole day. And it's when she's at home, alone in bed once more, that she lets the guilt consume her almost completely.

Looking up at the dark grey ceiling, she runs her thoughts through everything that has happened. From the boards, to Matthew; from her wedding, to their wedding; from the happiest moment in her life when she found out she was pregnant, to Samuel; from feeling like dying each day that passed by, to Jordan; from Jordan, to divorce. It feels like she has lived a thousand lives in one.

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Her heart is full with the thought of another life being created inside of her. "You're okay. You're okay." She tells herself, repeatedly. And she is in fact okay, or at least she pretends she is. And as her hands travels down her stomach, she can already feel a small bump. Her sweet little baby bump. "You're okay." She says, in the form of a prayer this time. Hugging her bump with both of her hands, she asks God with all every single bit of faith and hope that she has for her baby to be okay. There's a miracle growing inside of her, and one thing she knows for sure… It is only the beginning.

.

They come face to face for the first time since she served him with the papers the next day, when she's trying to hurry and catch the elevator, and he's already inside of it. Her heart takes a stumble when his rough deep blue eyes fall upon her small frame. They're fuming, burning with anger and pain.

"Is this against the law or should I take the stairs?" He makes a small remark, before looking at her with a certain disdain.

"Jackson, I-" Her throat dries out before she can finish her own thoughts.

"Don't." He shakes his head, ready to step out of the elevator.

"Stop." April says, blocking the entrance with her body, raising her head to face him. "We need to talk. I need to explain-"

"You don't get to need anything." He says, almost mumbling. "Do you realize what you just did? Do you realize how much-" His words fall off his mouth incomplete. And she notices that he's making that face he does when mad, when he is too angry to speak, when he can't even find the words to express how he feels.

"I-" She starts, with her voice trembling standing in his presence. "I can explain. I can explain everything. Please."

He crosses his arms and turns his eyes to the ground. It takes a long second for him to open up his mouth again, for him to raise his voice along his deeply sad eyes, for him to clear his throat and part his lips to say. "You need to explain. And right now I need you to step aside. Please." There's a sense of sarcasm in his tone with his last word. And with that, he is gone.

.

It's Tuesday night and the crib is still in the middle of the living room floor. And she keeps spending her evenings staring at it.

The baby's room, Samuel's room, is where it has always been. The door is still closed, though, and she can't find the courage to go inside. The memories, buried, but the pain is simply too fresh to be relived.

When she asked Jackson what did he do with Samuel's stuff, he said he gave them away, to charity. It was the only and last time she mentioned it. The crib, white as snow, seems like a good prospect of what's to come. White, washing away everything that reminded herself of the dark nights spent crying over her lost son.

.

It's Wednesday when she decides to do something about it, when she drags her legs down the hall, and pushes herself to open that sacred door.

Slowly stepping inside, she feels the hardwood floor beneath her naked feet. They cringe a little bit when she steps one foot in front of the other, a noise that resembles her haunter heart and memories. After she turns on the light, April stops. The room feels dark, and empty. It doesn't have the feeling a nursery should have, and she knows just why. In the loneliness of the silence surrounding her, she felt her soul leave her body for an instant. In a blink of an eye she relived everything, and how she died completely the moment her son did.

Then, quickly taking a few steps back, she closes the door as fast as she opened it, running to the living room, and finding the only support she can find in that small white crib, with its huge yellow bow.

Reaching for her purse on the kitchen counter top, she grabs her phone, and without having time to even think twice, she dials the only number she cares to know.

It rings for what it feels like forever as she can feel a surprising panic attack hit her like a wildfire. Until it stops ringing, and she hears a muffled sound. "Hey?" She says, hoping to hear his voice. There's nothing, but the sound of a heavy breath on the other side. "Jackson, it's me… please." As she waits for his reply, she prays he's willing to talk to her. God knows he's the only one she needs now. Everything-" She stops, noticing for the first time she's been fully crying the whole time. "Everything is not okay."

After the longest four seconds of her life, she finds some relief in his voice and his reply comes as the biggest surprise.

AN:

Hey! So, I've decided to try another shot as writing! :)

More to come!

Love, Annie