Echoing J.A.C.I.E. (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Chapter 17

It was hard for me to leave my room while I was at my dad's place. The pain seemed like it would never subside. I'd only come out to go to the bathroom, to take painkillers, or to try to eat something. Other than that, I was usually in bed, the curtains barely open to let in sunlight. The only thing that made me feel less alone was Mr. Snuggles, who hadn't left my side since Ben gave him to me.

It was strange to think my next appointment would have been that week. My dad had taken on that burden and called to cancel it for me. Part of me kept wondering if I had made the wrong decision. Whether if I had done the appointment back in London instead of waiting to do it here, things would have turned out differently. I knew they probably wouldn't have known and couldn't have done something, but it still felt wrong.

One day, as the winter sunlight spilled in through the little gap between the curtains and the walls, I found the tiniest bit of strength to venture out into the living room again. Slowly, I tiptoed through the cocoon that was my room, and hesitated at the doorway. It was so much easier to get back in bed instead of facing the outside. But I pushed on. The house felt so quiet. Ben was at school, but my dad had been working from home ever since I arrived.

I entered the kitchen, my eyes falling on two bouquets on the kitchen counter. The vibrancy of the blooms seemed out of place against the sombre backdrop of my emotions. Still, I gently walked over to them and had a look at the attached cards. The smaller bouquet of lilies and roses came from Hazel, telling me she was still there for me despite being miles away. The sunflowers and daisies were from Jack. His card didn't say much, just a simple 'love, Jack'.

Although the thought was there, I didn't know what to do with these flowers.

The rustling of me reading the cards must have notified my dad that I had entered the heart of the house again. He looked up from his laptop at the dining table and greeted with a smile that faltered at the edges, "hey, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, putting the cards down on the counter, and walked towards the couch. His eyes followed me as I eased onto the couch, the cushions providing a small comfort. A silence lingered between us, neither of us daring to voice any of our thoughts. My dad cleared his throat, searching for words that could bridge the gap.

"You know, Sweetheart, I... I don't have the answers," he admitted, his gaze searching my face for a sign of understanding. "But I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Ever since I was a little girl, he reserved 'Sweetheart' for the moments when I was having a hard time. It used to always comfort me along with his soft voice. But this was a new depth of pain. This wasn't the same as when I scraped my knee as a child or when I broke up with my first boyfriend. This was a kind of pain he couldn't fix with a band-aid or a comforting hug.

I nodded to acknowledge him and started picking at the skin around my nails. His willingness to be there, even if he didn't know how, meant a lot. I just couldn't do anything with that sentiment right now.

He sighed heavily and continued to look at me before deciding to get up and join me. He settled on the couch next to me, his presence offering both comfort and a sense of helplessness. We sat in a shared silence, each lost in our thoughts.

"You know..." my dad eventually carefully spoke up, "two years after you were born, your mom had a miscarriage."

I hummed in response, going to chew on my thumb's skin instead. While he meant well, I really didn't want to know about what my mom had gone through. It only made the situation worse. I wish I had a mom to tell me it was all okay, to convince me that things like this happened and it was okay to be sad about them. But the reality was that I didn't have that.