APRIL

"Oh, c'mon, c'mon, come on!"

Moving was supposed to be one of the most stressful parts of a person's life. When I'd been Googling through different moving companies, I'd found some article that headlined it was apparently more stressful than divorce. I didn't know if that was actually true, didn't have the experience to prove it, but today? I'm pretty much ready to believe it.

I was starting over with my life, officially. Seattle was supposed to be the place for me. Big city, I loved the rain, plenty of bike lanes which meant I didn't have to drive a car, apparently some of the best coffee, super liberal… it seemed like the perfect place that I needed. It had been easy to get a job as a Software Developer at a start-up. A really, really well-paying one, too. This was the first time that I was going to get to live in a nice apartment on my own without having to deal with a roommate. I was excited about that. It was a beautiful building, and this space was going to be all of my own. Well, me and my rabbit, Sully. Affectionately named after the big guy from Monsters Inc., not the captain, even if that was a good and adult excuse.

But being self-sufficient was more than that. I'd tried to have a nice, aesthetic apartment. I wanted to get off on the right foot and make things nice and easy to go from there. I'd done the DIY headboard, the floating nightstand and a nice little succulent by it. Things were looking pretty, even if not terribly personal. I was fine with that, though. That just contributed to how all of this was going to be a new start.

The thing that had been tripping me up for much of the day was the ladder bookshelf. I'd ordered a nice one from Overstock, but it had to be missing something. That was the only solution.

"Dammit." I groaned, plopping down onto the carpet. Leaning back into the wall, my head thudded lightly against it. This was a lot easier with a roommate, that much was for sure. Maybe one of the only things that were, though.

Pulling out my phone, there's already a text from Amelia wishing me luck. She had been my roommate before she'd gotten together with a guy named James, and that had been part of what had inspired me to get my shit together. I'd quit my job at Microsoft, needing something more. Something genuine and something with the people. I was taking a risk with this new job, but it paid well for now, and I'd be comfortable living. That wasn't something that a lot of people my age got to say.

I replied back with a couple of smiling emojis, tossing my phone on my bed to eliminate the distraction.

"Okay, let's give this another try." I picked up the hammer, swinging it back and forth in my hands for a moment as I stared at the supplies in front of me from the box. The first shelf I had tried turned out crooked. I still wasn't sure how I had managed to get that done.

"Nope. Nope." I shook my head and got up, dropping the hammer down on the floor with a loud thud. My downstairs neighbors no doubt hated me at the moment with everything that had been moving around, but they could handle it for a few more hours. It was mid-afternoon, not the middle of the night. They could suck it up for a little while.

My laptops were sitting on the couch, currently, the only thing that was properly set up in the living room. I still had to adjust most of it here and there, but I'd figure it out eventually.

Focusing on the kitchen, I grab a handful of banana brittle and focus on shoveling it down my throat. My eating schedule is a little off lately and snacking here and there on various foods tended to be more frequent for me than actual meals. Sometimes my schedule still resembled that of a college student's than someone who had graduated nearly a decade ago. At least I was financially independent and still got my laundry done every week. Couldn't be perfect.

Once the rumbling in my stomach is settled a little more, I get back to my bedroom and zone in on setting up the bookshelf. I needed it out of the way so I could unpack the box of stuff going on it. The books had made it the heaviest one which meant it was nearly blocking my doorway because I hadn't gotten very far with it. It was officially starting to get in the way.

Twisting my hair back up into a messy bun, I get down on my hands and knees and sort through the different supplies that had been included along with the instruction manual. This attempt went significantly better than the last one. The staining is easier, having already picked out a warm chestnut for it.

My bedroom was starting to look pretty well put together. I could use some wall decor. The closest thing I had at the moment was a full-length mirror on the back of my door.

"Alright, Sully," I started as I opened up his cage, reaching in to pick him up and let him out. "Let's get used to your new home, alright? Try not to get lost just yet. You might be able to find some good hiding places before I can." I ran my hand over downy hair before letting him free. Hopefully, he wasn't going to be too stressed or anxious about all of this. I already was, but he was usually pretty relaxed, especially by bunny standards.

Shutting the door so she can't get too lost in the new apartment, I decide it's best to unpack the kitchen so I can eat more than just snack foods or take-out. I turned up the radio so it wasn't quite as boring of a task, dancing along to it casually as I do.

Reaching into the box blindly, I give a quick yelp when pain shoots through my hand. I pull it back quickly and realized that there's a cut across the palm of my hand and fresh blood leaking across my hands. Glancing inside, I realized the sheath must have come off of my good knife in the midst of the move. It's now got blood on it too, as well as few other various objects inside of the box.

"Shit, shit, shit," I swore as I moved around the kitchen, grabbing a dish towel and quickly wrapping it around. It stung like a bitch with each movement of my hand, and I knew it was going to make the next few days of working an absolute pain in the neck.

"Where's the damn first aid kit…" I mumbled, sweeping through the cabinets. I know that I had packed one at one point, but I didn't know if I had actually unpacked it. It'd been a messy process, no checklist, just going here and there. Which meant that I had absolutely no idea where it was at the moment if it was even outside of a box.

Clearly, hunting through the kitchen at the moment wasn't going to do me or my bleeding hands any favor. I didn't know if it was deep enough to need any kind of stitches, but it was a little big for a regular bandaid. It needed something.

Stepping outside of the apartment, I quickly step across the hall and knock urgently on the door there. I haven't had the chance to actually meet any of my neighbors yet since moving in but now seemed like as good of a time as ever. It wasn't exactly the same as popping over to introduce myself or vice versa, but at least it was a little less cliche than asking for a bag of sugar. Plus, I'm pretty sure that no one was going to say no to that.

"Hello?" I called out, knocking on it once more. I was probably knocking a little too much.

The door finally opened. I opened my mouth to speak and don't say a word for a moment, surprised by the man who's on the other side. It's a tall, attractive man on the other side with a little baby held in one hand. He's got the most dazzling eyes, somewhere mixed between blue and green where I couldn't quite choose. A beard covered the lower portion of his face, short shaved hair. The baby that he's holding is equally adorable, big beautiful eyes and wisps of curly hair. They're both distracting though it completely different ways.

"Uh, hey." The male spoke, offering a small, polite smile as his gaze swept over me.

"Uh–hi–sorry," I stated out the syllables, meeting my lips. "Hi. I'm April. I just moved in across the hall and I had a total dumbass moment and cut open my hand and I don't know where my first aid kit is. You'd think that would be something that you would keep track of in the middle of moving considering how much cutting and other crap there is but I didn't so… my hand is bleeding a lot and I was wondering if you had a first aid kit." I don't mean to ramble, but I do. When it comes to attractive men, I have two defaults: talking way too much or silence. At least this time, I hadn't gone for the latter. It probably wouldn't have served me well.

"Sure, come on in. I've got one in the kitchen." He stepped back, opening his door wider so that I could move in. "I'm Jackson. And this is my daughter, Alex." He gave her a quick kiss on the head and I smiled for a moment watching.

I loved kids. I really, really did. Things with my last boyfriend hadn't ended particularly well, even though for awhile, I'd thought that Matthew had been the one. We'd seemed to be a pretty good match on paper but our personalities clashed one way or another. He'd been a little nasty when things ended. It had been another motivation to get out and start my own new life.

"She's cute," I complimented with a smile as I followed him over to the kitchen. "Super cute."

"Thanks," Jackson smiled back. "You uh, you picked the right door to knock on, too. I'm actually a plastic surgeon. Why don't you let me take a look at your hand? See if you need stitches or anything like that." Oh. That was an unexpected twist of fortune.

"Lucky me." I unwrapped the dish towel from my hand, holding it over the sink to make sure that I didn't get blood over any of his stuff. His touch was tender as he looked at my hand and I tried not to wince any as he wiped away some of the blood so that he could get a better look at it.

This close to him, I can't help but look up. Maybe it's been awhile since I've got some – that was the only explanation for why I was checking out a man who was probably married or in some kind of serious relationship, based on the little girl in the playpen. He had subtle freckles across his cheeks and nose, much easier to identify this up close. He really was handsome, even if he practically towered over me. He must have been nearly a foot taller.

"You do probably need two stitches," Jackson informed me. "I can do it here if you don't want to go to an E.R. or urgent care clinic. It's not a big deal." He offered.

"Free stitches from a plastic surgeon? I can't say no to that." I answered back with a smile.

"Why don't you sit down at the table?" He suggested. I gave a nod of my head and moved over, careful not to bleed over any of his stuff. Everything looked nice here, well-crafted. Not DIY stuff, that was for sure. But if he was a plastic surgeon, well, that made plenty of sense.

Jackson set up with the first aid kit and snapped on a pair of gloves as he pulled out what he needed. I'd never been good with the sight of blood, not really. It's a little easier when it's your own, the kind of thing that a woman just has to get used to, but it's always a little different under medical circumstances. I don't like getting blood drawn and I've never had stitches before, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to like it anymore.

"This might sting just a little bit." He warned me before pouring what I assumed was hydrogen peroxide on the wound. My nose twitched, and I turned my head away so I don't have to look. "So, you just moved in?"

"Yeah, today," I answered with a nod of my head. "Just moved to Seattle, too. Hopefully, this is all going to be the start of some new, big chapter for me." I elaborated.

"Welcome to the city," he smiled. "I've lived here for a couple of years now. It's not so bad. As long as you don't mind all of the clouds and rains, at least." He added.

"I like the rain." I smiled, looking over at his face. "It helps me relax. It's calming."

He nodded. "It can be pretty nice, once you get used to it. Took me a little while, to be honest."

"You seem to be well-adjusted if you're still here and not trashing it." I offered with a small chuckle, careful not to move my hand. "How old is your daughter?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the little girl who was now currently preoccupied with some soft blocks and shapes.

"She's about six months now. She's just starting to crawl around now, too." I could see the pride in his smile as he spoke about the daughter. "We're not quite sleeping through nights yet, but uh, the walls are pretty thick, apparently. I haven't gotten any complaints about hearing her cry in the middle of the night so knock on wood, she won't keep you up any."

"I don't mind." It's not like it was something he could help. It's a lot different than the annoying neighbor who blasted their music at all hours, or constant shouting. I'd dealt with my fair share of annoying neighbors and thus far, he didn't seem to be that bad. "You and her mom must be tired." I offered sympathetically.

"It's just me, actually." Jackson corrected softly.

Well, shit. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume." I spoke a little too quickly.

"It's okay," he looked at me with a soft smile before glancing back down at my hand. "Her mom, my fiancee, she died in childbirth. There was a clot in her lungs and they weren't able to save her. So now it's just me and her. She's my everything."

The story tugged at my heartstrings and I was sure that I wasn't being subtle about it in the slightest, brows furrowing together. That was terrifying – to be gifted with such a blessing, yet lose the love of your life at the same time. It was one of those things that just left you speechless for a moment, knowing that it was a pain that there was no way that I could relate to. Not quite. I'd have some issues, some major losses. But it wasn't something like that.

"I'm so sorry. That must be hard on you. On the both of you," I offered up empathetically, my eyes watching his face a little more closely than before. It was one of the moments where I wanted to just hug him, but this wasn't exactly the position for it.

"It's not easy," he answered honestly. "I took some time off work, an extended paternity leave. It's hard but seeing that little smile on her face, the way that she looks up at me… that's the kind of thing that makes it worth it. She's a great baby. And she looks just like her mother, really. I see Lexie in her every day." He elaborated.

I wondered what it was like to be in love with someone so intimately. Matthew had been nice and convenient, but he hadn't been the love of my life. I knew that much was true. He was just a boyfriend, a learning experience. But Jackson's loss was not envious in any way.

"I can't imagine," I tried to smile but it resembled more of a grimace.

"It's alright. I probably shouldn't be spilling out all of my life details while I'm stitching up your hand, anyways," he gave a slight chuckle with his words to try and lighten the mood.

"Oh, you mean you don't do this with all of your patients?" I retorted good-naturedly.

"I think my reviews would turn south very quickly if I did." Jackson shook his head. "But, you are all stitched up, so at least I did a pretty decent job of keeping you distracted while I worked." He said, withdrawing his hands and pulling off the gloves.

Pulling my hand back, I looked at the stitches there, meticulously neat, not that I knew any better. But he said that he was a plastic surgeon, so that meant this must have been some pretty quality work. I stretched out my fingers and bent them again just to see how much it hurt, and it hadn't exactly changed. It still hurt. That was definitely going to be an inconvenience when it came to finishing up the unpacking that I had left, and the work that I needed to get to.

I was lucky that I could work from home for the most part. Meetings would be better to go into the office for, but when it came to technology, so much of it could be done remotely that I really didn't need to be there. I liked that. It enabled me to recluse myself more than what I needed, but it was still nice.

"Thank you, for this. I'm sure I owe you some ridiculous amount that I would have to pray my insurance covered." I said with a smile.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Just being neighborly." Jackson replied back smoothly.

"Guess I've been living in the wrong neighborhoods if this is what being neighborly is about." I grinned. Our eyes meet for a moment and I swear to god, there's some kind of click here. Which is the stupidest, most rom-com thought that I've ever had in my life. He'd literally just been talking about his dead fiancee. Six months wasn't too fresh, but it was still recent enough. I was being ridiculous.

Forcing the smile a little wider for a moment, I stand up from the table and push the chair back in. Jackson followed, but neither of us moved back toward the front door of the apartment just yet.

"Well, if you need to know anything else about the area, feel free to ask. I usually work Mondays through Thursdays, but other than that, I'm around pretty frequently." Jackson spoke, giving a shrug of his broad shoulders and tucking his hands into the front pockets of his pants.

"I am actually dying to know a good place to eat. Cooking is not an option and I just got my best knife bloody so I feel like I'm not going to want to use it any time soon after this." I gestured to my hand as I spoke, but I kept a good-natured smile on my lips. I don't cook that much, anyway. I go to Subway too much and food delivery was a little bit of a crutch. It's honestly a miracle that I don't weigh more than I do. My body's not perfect, but I'm pretty damn lucky.

"Depends on what you like," he shrugged. "Serious Pie's a good place for pizza. A good place to go and hang out with people, too. If you like organic, Local 360 is another good place for that. Seattle's a pretty good place for food."

I nodded. "Noted," I said. "That's good because I'm kind of at the point where I get exhausted cooking for myself. It's so much easier to cook for two people than it is one." It's only after the words had come flooding out of my mouth that I realize how they sound when he'd literally just told me about his dead baby momma. I was so, so not nailing this first meeting. "Sorry, that's– sorry. I'm the worst. I swear I'm not a bad person, I just speak and don't think." I apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Jackson shook his head. "Honestly? It's kind of refreshing to be around someone who just speaks and doesn't get caught up in monitoring every little detail of what they say. You don't get a lot of that these days." He was right about that.

"Well, I'm usually so busy monitoring keystrokes and crap like that, I don't even think about half the crap that comes out of my mouth. I talk to myself a lot, too. Well, and Sully, of course. I have a pet rabbit. It's– not as childish as it seems. Rabbits can actually be kind of high maintenance which not a lot of people realize." There was the rambling once again, unable to stop me.

"You do… some kind of computer something?" He pieced together with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Software development. I used to work for Microsoft but I'm working for a start-up company here now. Sounded a lot more personal and I kind of like the idea of a small company, you know, actually getting to know people, that kind of thing. It's kind of… lonely work, I guess. Buried inside of your computer or cubicle all day."

Now it seemed like I was the one who was getting too personal about things. Maybe I had always been a little lonely, but a lot of the time, I had contributed to it. Somehow it was easier to get caught up in the way that things were. Change was scary. It was a bunch of cliche crap and I knew it, but somehow it was still just the way that things in my life were. Maybe this move would be the start of some serious change for the better in my life. I needed to act, not just hope, but… baby steps.

"I can see that," he gave a slight nod. "So you're living alone now? Just you and Sully?"

I nodded to answer.

"Well, I'll be honest, there's not much of a community here. Elevator conversation is about as much as you'll get. But other than that, it's a pretty nice place to live. Seattle can be a social city, once you find yourself." Jackson advised me, his expression still friendly. "And if you ever need company or manage to cut yourself open like this again, I'm just across the hallway."

"I appreciate that," I smiled up at him. "But beware, you might regret that. If you ever nee, you know, technology help with… just about anything, I'll do what I can. That's where my talent usually lies, so." My voice trailed off slightly and I gave a small shrug. "I also think I'm a great babysitter. But that's probably debatable."

We both turned to look at his little girl, and I can't help but smile. She's focused entirely on the toy that she had in her hands, jiggling it around and slamming it on the carpeted floor. It doesn't quite make any noise, but she seems thoroughly entertained nonetheless.

"I'll keep that in mind," Jackson chuckled. "I have a good babysitter, and I'm sure you'll get to see her at some point. But I do feel bad sometimes, making her drive to and from late at night."

"Well, I hate driving. Fortunately, it's just a few steps across the hall for me." I laughed.

"Not a fan of driving?" He questioned with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Nope," I popped the syllable. "Part of the appeal of Seattle, if I'm being honest. You can bike almost everywhere. I've got my bike and basket all set up, ready to go." I brushed past the real reason behind not liking cars, not wanting to dive too far into my own past. Not yet.

Before either of us could say anything further on the matter, Alex gives out a little cry. I step out of the way so that Jackson could go and pick her up, smiling as he nuzzled her nose through the curls on top of her head and giving her a quick kiss. Despite the affection that her father showered her with, she continued to cry just a little bit. I felt awkward exiting now, it didn't seem right. But staying felt a little weird too.

"I should probably get her down for the night." Jackson started.

There was the cue that I was looking for. I gave another smile and nod of my head, moving to grab the bloodied dishtowel from the table again. I wasn't going to overstay my welcome and didn't want to give him any extra stress if he was already dealing with a baby on his own. I couldn't imagine how much of a struggle it must have been emotionally to be a single parent.

"Of course," I agreed. "I uh, I hope she goes down easy. I'm sure that she can be fussy at this age." I offered up as I walked toward his front door.

"Yeah, a bit." Jackson nodded.

"Thank you again, for the stitches. I owe you one, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." I brighten up with one last smile at him, giving a little waved with my stitched up hand and pulling the door shut behind me so that he didn't have to get it.

Heading back across the hallway to my own apartment, I close and lock the door behind me, and can't help but smile. Even if it's a little ridiculous and shallow to be thinking about him in the way that I am, I don't mind. It has been awhile since I'd had any kin doc love or physical affection. He's probably going to be nothing more than a friend, an acquaintance, even. We were neighbors. In the past, I barely even talk with my neighbors.

I was done with packing for the night, at least. I listened to try and hear them and I could just faintly hear Alex crying, but after a few minutes, it seemed to calm down. Good for him.

"Are you ready for bed, Sully?" I asked as I walked back into the bedroom. The little black and white spotted bunny was eating some curly kale. "Yeah, me too," I answered, stripping down to my panties and pulling on a t-shirt. "I like my neighbor. I think you would, too. He seems nice."

Maybe I'm crazy for talking to him as much as I do, but oh well.

Plopping down onto my bed, I hang my hand over the edge and feel Sully come up and lick the back of my knuckles a few times before wandering away again. That was pretty much a nighttime routine.

"Goodnight, Sully."