Page 74 of Bliss: Part 1
Dash opened his mouth, but he didn’t get to answer.
Because Dad’s bedroom door opened behind me.
We all froze.
He stood there, in sweatpants and a T-shirt, clearly pissed off. His hair was sticking up, and his face was hardened with sleep and irritation. “Someone want to tell me why the hell you’re yelling outside my door at six in the goddamn morning?”
No one said anything.
He looked at each of us, then settled his gaze on me. The way his eyes scanned my face was unsettling. His tone changed. “You’ve been crying.”
I nodded. No point in denying it.
“Why?”
“Nothing,” Rhys answered. “It’s been dealt with.”
Dad ignored him. His focus stayed on me. “Bliss. What’s going on?”
Dash looked at me, silently pleading. Rhys was shaking his head slowly, already bracing for whatever was about to happen.
I swallowed hard, turned toward Dad, and opened my mouth.
“I’ve been intimate with them.”
Silence.
Only my racing heartbeat could be heard.
Rhys took a small step back and muttered, “Fucking hell…”
Dad didn’t explode like we all expected. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t swing. Didn’t slam a fist into the wall.
He just stood there. His jaw clenched. His fists curled at his sides.
I panicked and started talking faster. I needed to get it all out of me. I had already spilled a part of it, so why stop there, right?
“It’s been going on for weeks. I started it. I kissed them. I did more. It was always me. I made them do it. I didn’t mean for it to go so far, but it did. It was my idea. It wasn’t them.”
“Bliss—” Rhys hissed, trying to get me to stop.
“Lissy, please,” Dash said quietly, sounding broken.
But I couldn’t stop. “I think something’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I wanted that kind of closeness from them. But I did. And now I feel so sick and confused and ashamed. I know it’s wrong. I just...I think I need help. I need someone to fix whatever is going on in my head.”
Dad still didn’t move. He didn’t even look at me anymore. He was staring down the hallway like he was somewhere else.
The tears started to burn my eyes again, and I wiped at them angrily. I didn’t want to cry. It would only make things worse. I had done what I needed to do. I told the truth.
Without saying a single word, Dad walked past us. His footsteps heavy. His expression blank.
He walked away without looking back.
I turned around slowly, feeling completely emptied out. And better.
I felt so much better now that I confessed.
So much so that a small smile tugged at my lips.
