He'd been dreading this day.
It was probably why he'd been quick to hand his daughter off to her grandmother, not wanting to mourn so freely in front of her. He felt like he could barely function himself, given he'd started drinking and allowing himself to wallow in the pain fairly early on in the day. Numerous people from the hospital had tried to check in on him over the phone, but he'd been quick to shoot back texts about how he was okay and how he just wanted to manage on his own. As well meaning as they were, they simply didn't understand the grief in the same way that he did. Some of them hadn't even been that great to April whilst she was alive, so he knew that being around them would only anger him after a while.
"You know, alcohol can make you do some stupid things…like punching a guy at a bar or jumping your best friend in a hotel room. Speaking from experience."
Jackson felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, as the silhouette of April sat down on the carpeted floor next to him, against the wall of her former bedroom. He knew that he was seeing things - that the alcohol he'd spent much of the day consuming was finally getting to his head, but she seemed so real, so alive in that moment, that he didn't want whatever it was to end. It felt so good to talk to her again.
Once he'd finally managed to compose himself, he finally responded, "Hey now, that was in the top five best nights of my life. It wasn't stupid. Amazing, sexy, incredible, exhilarating…but not stupid."
"Top five, huh? That's it?"
"Don't worry, the other four moments also include you. You should be honoured."
"Oh? Well in that case, I'm totally honoured." A soft smile formed on her face, and the spirit of April looked around, noticing that her room hadn't been touched at all since her passing. Everything was still in its proper place, neat and tidy with far too many throw pillows on her bed - just as she liked it. She let out a sigh, before looking at him again, "I was expecting to see Hattie in her crib when I went to her nursery…you know, I don't want you to be alone today. It's not healthy. This…this drinking yourself into oblivion? It's not a good idea. Trust me."
His felt a pang in his chest at the mention of their daughter, his eyes watering. "She's with my mom and Richard. I just…I couldn't be with her, or anyone. Not today. She's so much like you now, April. She has your dimple and your loud ass laugh, and she always wakes up early. Got your peanut allergy, too, which is a pain in the ass." He chuckled dryly, trying his best to find some humour in the terrible situation he'd found himself in. "I just…it's so hard. I miss you, so, much. We miss you. It wasn't…it wasn't supposed to be like this."
April offered a sympathetic look, scooting as close to him as possible. "I know."
"If I had just…fucking manned up after Montana, if we had just been together…you never would've been with Matthew. You wouldn't have been in that car, or in the revene…this never would've happened! We'd be a family, you'd still be here, raising our daughter…she deserves that. You deserve that...god...I wasted so much fucking time."
"Hey, stop that. Going through all of the ways things could've been different isn't healthy, either. I want you to be happy, okay? And you're doing an amazing job with her. She's so lucky to have you."
Jackson choked back a strangled sob, allowing himself to feel, "I love you. I never told you, b-before you were in that coma, but god…I love you. I don't think I ever stopped." He used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe away his tears that had finally started to fall. He only ever allowed himself to cry when he was alone. "Please just…stay. Please?"
She sighed, wanting so desperately to be able to touch him, "You know I can't do that, but even when you can't see me like this, you know I'm always with you, right? You've just gotta have faith."
Trust her, to still be able to be faithful and graceful, even in the afterlife. All he could think was: how?
He frowned, picking up the half-empty bottle of scotch he'd been drinking and taking a long swig.
"Jackson, stop, thats not helping. Why don't we take a nap, huh?"
He watched her as she got up and made her way over to the bed that hadn't been slept in since she'd moved out, and reluctantly followed her once she looked comfortable, placing the bottle of scotch on the beside cabinet. He tried his best to relax on top of the duvet cover, not wanting to move any of the throw pillows out of the way. It almost made it seem like she really was still here. Like they were ending where they began. In a bed. In love.
Jackson turned on his side to face her, eyes still puffy and feeling tired from all the alcohol and the lack of sleep he'd gotten the night before. All he could do was wonder how it would ever get any easier as the years went on. He'd thought it had been bad when they'd lost Samuel, but it had been a different kind of pain. With his son, he'd found himself mourning who he could've grown to be and the many ways in which it had broken them as a couple, and robbed them of their first chance at parenthood. With April, it felt like a part of his soul had died along with her and like he would never gain it back - like he'd just spend the rest of his life feeling like half a person, and not even the good half, as she's always been the better one out of the two of them. Sometimes, he wished the universe had just taken him instead and that Harriet would be better off that way, and he knew that it was a dangerous thought to have.
"Go to sleep," She whispered softly, trying to stop his mind from running.
"I don't want you to not be here when I wake up."
"I know, but you're going to be okay, Jackson, I promise. I love you."
With that, he finally managed to give in to the overwhelming exhaustion, at least for a few hours.
When he woke again, he could no longer see her lying peacefully beside him, and the all-consuming ache in his chest returned.
This was his reality now.
He only wished that there was a world in which it wasn't.