Forget Me Not [Original]

Chapter 5 ✔

(A/N): I hope those of you reading this story are getting into it and are enjoying reading it! Every read means a lot so thanks! Comments are much appreciated! - Ivory

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Jen

The shock that has come with my father's sudden appearance has somewhat subsided, and I allow him to envelop me into an embrace. I still love him, but his rejection of me is still very much painful. I make this known to myself so I won't allow myself to easily forgive him. I can't. He left me alone for four years. He ignored the hardships I've had to endure, chose to forget me as his responsibility, and completely obliterated the idea of moving on.

These conflicting emotions battle for dominance over each other, fighting for my attention. I don't know how to feel about this. I'm so glad and full of happiness that he is paying attention to me again and that he is here because of the appalling situation that I've been thrown into. But I'm so angry and infuriated that he has the audacity to show up here, looking for forgiveness when he's the one who left me. If he was with me, maybe this never would have happened, this. Whatever this is, it shouldn't have happened, and I can't help but blame him for this.

The tears I've been trying to fight off drown me as they break through the many barriers that I've built. My dad is finally back. I choose to forget my anger, and rejoice in the fact that he's back as he hugs me to him. I'm done living in the past.

For this moment, I accept his mistakes, knowing the pain he's been suffering. I went through the same thing. It was both agonizing and tedious, having to go through such a difficult loss, but in the end, the memory of my mother will always be imprinted in our minds and hearts.

My dad continues to hold me, crushing me against his body so hard that I struggle to breathe, but I ignore the desperate plea my lungs cry. I can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him and onto me, seeping into my bones and snaking their way through my blood. I feel the world fall away, leaving a broken daughter in the arms of a regretful, but loving and hurt father.

His breath is uneven as he pulls away from me, wiping his eyes of the escaping tears as he tries but fails to get a hand on his emotions.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice cracking under the weight of the tension in the room. I know that sooner or later he will want to properly apologize to me for practically abandoning me, but that is a conversation for a different time.

He shakes his head at me, brushing off my question and kissing my forehead gingerly, almost as if he were afraid I would break.

"I'm sorry," He whispers so silent that I strain to hear him. His words fall into the space between us, at my mercy to either accept or reject them. I'm torn between them, he left me and now chooses to seek my forgiveness. But he's back now. A voice says at the back of my mind. I know this is my better judgment, pushing me to accept my fathers reprehensible actions. I know she's right. In order to move forward I need to accept the past and welcome the future and embrace the present.

"It's okay." I say, offering him a small smile.

His shoulders visibly relax, like a weight was being hauled off of him at the sound of my words. He kisses me once more at my hairline before turning to the doctor who I forgot was even there. That's when I remember Shawn. I had been so lost in my debate whether to grant my father forgiveness or not that I hadn't realized that Shawn was still in the room, a witness to the emotional scene that had just played out.

I whip around to find empty space of which had once been occupied by a warm, tall, and incredibly understanding boy. Disappointment floods through me, washing away his warm brown eyes, chocolate brown hair and accepting persona. Of course he's gone, someone is here to take care of me now, why would he need to be here? Why would he even stay here for as long as he did?

Many unanswered questions race through my mind as I move toward my hospital bed, just wanting to go to sleep. This morning has emotionally and mentally exhausted me, and my body is still weak from the physical pain I endured a couple of days ago. So many things have happened since then. So many things that I still have to think about.

I climb into bed, mindlessly slipping off Shawn's over sized shoes and closing myself off with the covers while the doctor and my father continue to talk. Would Shawn even leave without his shoes? Apparently since he never returned from his previous whereabouts.
I don't even pay attention to what the doctor is aimlessly telling my father, I take no interest into the various descriptions of medication for me nor his ways to recover my memory loss from the amnesia. Frankly I don't mind not remembering, it's like the pain is automatically blocked from me, my brain registering the trauma done to my body and choosing to expunge the memory. The only evidence my mind couldn't wash away is the bruises left upon me, and the reoccurring headaches of the damage inflicted on my head.

I lay on my back, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. My mind is blank, devoid of any thought on its way to make me mad, worried, or sad. This moment of calm is what I've been waiting for. My life is stitching itself back together, allowing me to be happy for once. Finally.

I let out a content sigh, folding my hands on my stomach that is hidden by the thin duvet. I should ask for more blankets if I am to stay in my room for the rest of the day. The hospital itself is freezing and I don't feel like doing anything else today.

I use my hands to help me sit up, waiting until the doctor is finished talking to my dad. He is talking about my recovery, but their voices are hushed, like their trying to hide something from me. My dad glances at me from over the doctors shoulder, the medic's back to me. He gives me a soft smile, and the doctor turns around also.

"Can I have more blankets please?" I ask blandly, my expression stoic.

"Of course, I'll have your nurse bring some to you." The doctor replies abruptly, almost coming off as rude, but I pay no mind to it. I watch him as he strolls out of the door, seeing him talk quietly to the nurse at the counter outside before I see her stand to carry out his command.

My dad captures my attention by also walking out of my room, he glances around like he's looking for someone, defeat showing on his face as he turns to sit in the recliner placed by my bed. It swings back from his weight and for a moment I'm distracted by him. I have a chance to finally take in his appearance. He looks healthier, his hair is shiny and clean and he smells like he just got out of the shower. He wears a simple shirt accompanied with dark jeans and simple vans on his feet. He looks normal, sober to say the least. It's clear that he is no longer influenced by any sort of beverage containing the nasty liquid.

I smile at him, happy he made the decision to stop his addiction.

"I quit," he says, not meeting my eyes, focused on his hands clasped together. His breaths are shallow and shaky, trying his best to remain calm. The urge to give in to his emotions is stamped on his face, twisting with pain and regret.

"I know." I reply, staying quiet. His conflicting emotions break through as his next words roll off of his tongue, causing my heart to thump wildly in my chest.

"I thought I lost you too." He chokes, dropping his head so it hangs between his sagged shoulders. His hands tangle in his hair, gripping it forcefully.

I don't know what to say, I've already forgiven him. Too easily I will admit, but he's my father. Our love for each other is unconditional. As much as I hate what he did, or rather didn't do, I would always forgive him. I'm so glad to have him back.

"You won't ever lose me." I say, laying on my uninjured side. My eyes start to grow heavy as I pull the thin sheet to cover my body. I'm extremely tired, succumbing to exhaustions hold on me, and I'm dragged under by sleep.