It's Complicated COMPLETED

Chapter 19

A/N: I may or may not have cried while writing this chapter...
Please listen to "Fix You" By Coldplay while you're reading. Just trust me ;)
Please read the chapter slowly, so the song actually lasts, lol. It's pretty short.
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"Meghan, I want to talk to you." My father beckoned. I was at first afraid that he might be angry with me, but he had a soft expression on his face. Hesitantly, I followed him onto our deck. It was in the second floor of our house, coming out of my parents bedroom. The view from the deck was beautiful, overlooking our neighbourhood. But that wasn't what was beautiful about it. Sometimes in the evenings, you could see the astounding sunset painted across the skies, creating a canvas for the clouds to dance across. Sitting on the deck, were two little chairs, strewn across the squeaky ground of it.

I pulled a chair out as my father did the same. It was about six o'clock and the sun was starting to hide from the day. Purples and pinks spread across the sky and their colours peered into my eyes, flashing at my face. Wispy clouds hung in the sky, not changing shape to the wind.

"It's about Zach." My dad stated. Immediately, I panicked. Thoughts about whether or not he is okay with us seeing each other, about if we will even be allowed to see each other.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. "What is it?"

"I know how much you like this boy." For a long time, dad couldn't even say his name. Just 'this boy' or worse, 'the boy'.

"Dad, you could at least say his name." I felt frustrated that he could barely choke up Zach's name.

He cleared his throat. "I know how much you like Zach. I've been talking with him. He's been giving me updates--"

"Updates?! Why do you want updates?! You don't trust us? You don't trust me? Why do you want fricking updates? What does that even mean?! Updates?!" I didn't know what I was doing, something in my brain just triggered. I was being unreasonable.

"Honey, let me finish." I hadn't realized that I was standing, and my nails were digging into my palms.

"No! Why is it that you feel the need to check up on us? Please fill me in, because all I've known was that--" I couldn't finish, because it would show me being at fault. What I was going to finish with was 'I'm dating someone you dislike, and I love him without keeping you in mind, half the time.'

"Meghan, please." My father had a pleading look in his eye, without a trace of anger. He wasn't reacting the way I would've thought.

"No, dad. I thought you might've been more mature than to spy on me and my boyfriend."

Mature? Says you. I thought. I knew how dumb I was being, but I just couldn't stop myself. The words were flowing against my will.

"Fine. Nevermind." My dad got up and grabbed the keys from the table sitting between our chairs. The instant I saw him speeding towards the driveway, I felt guilty. With a slam of the door, I watched my dad drive away, tearing the road apart with his tires.

What a sunset ruin-er. Suddenly it seemed the purple and pink turned to grey and blue; saddest colours of all. It seemed my face was still hot after the argument with my dad. I had no idea what just had happened. All I needed was so figure myself out. A lot of times that usually happened in (a) the shower, or (b) while driving. Since I'd already had a shower that morning, I decided to take myself for a drive.

I gathered my things and got into my car. For a somewhat unexplained reason, tears started to pour down my face. It seemed I was uncontrollable. All of me. I felt reckless.

It was dark outside still, when I cruised aimlessly through intersection, not caring to stop. Wasn't like there were any red light cameras to catch me. The roads that night felt eerie, and off. Melancholy feelings held weights on my shoulders. I was bitter, and silent. My phone started to ring. At the moment, I didn't care about any laws, but I didn't want to answer it. I didn't want to talk to anybody, whether it was Jason, or The President. Naturally, I let the machine take it. A few seconds later, it rang again. Another time, I ignored it. This time, a message. And instead of hearing Zach's voice, I heard my mother's.

"Meghan, I need you to pick up your phone right now. It's about your father--" Immediately, I picked up the phone to try and answer it.

"Hello?!" I spit.

"Sweetie?" My mom answered.

"Yeah, mom? What is it?"

"Your father, he's, he's--" she sputtered.

"What? What is he, mom?"

"He's in the hospital right now. Car accident. Jason and I are here now. Your father is in the ICU. Doctors are coming to check on him in a second. Please, Meg, get down here." I slammed the brakes. My mother was crying while she broke the news to me. For what seemed like forever, I just sat there in my car and became numb, right there in the middle of the road. When I remembered what my mom had just instructed me to do, I got the car going again and turned around. Speeding faster than I ever had, the tears came faster, and heavier. I wept all the way down to the hospital. Even though the roads were slippery, I accelerated my speed. Not even police could stop me.

I darted through the hospital hallways, after finding out where my dad was staying. Trying to prepare myself, I slowly twisted the doorknob. There, my father lay, clothed in a hospital gown and bruises. A large gash found it's way onto his right cheek. His hands were a purple-ish pale, as was the rest of his face. I could see my mother sitting beside his bed, clinging to his hand, and him clinging to life. Jason sat in a seat further away, head buried in his hands. I felt the mascara stick to my damp cheeks. My eyes widened, when I saw my mother's face. Her eyes were squeezed shut like his hand was painful to hold. Her tears were just as present as mine.

"He's--he's--he's..." My mother threw her face down again. Somehow, I knew she wouldn't finish with 'going to be okay.' She took a shaky breath. "G--gone!" And she wailed. I ran over to her, and sobbed into her shoulder. My arms weakly hugged her waist, and I couldn't bring myself to look at my dad. There, we sobbed together. Jason had walked over to the other side, and grabbed my father's cold, white hand. I'd had other tears, but none as gut-wrenching, stomach-churning bereaved as those. Some tears were a lover's tears, some happy tears, some even confusion tears. But these, these tears, we like none before. I'd never had many people care for me, and then the chances of their unexpected absence would be slim.

And now, the chances were quite microscopic.