Page 25 of Bliss: Part 2
Her gaze landed immediately on the cake I’d left on the coffee table. “I thought I smelled something sweet. You made this?”
I nodded, picking up the knife and cutting a slice for her. I set it on a paper plate and handed it over. “Here.”
“Thanks, Dad. I was already missing the leftover birthday cake.”
We’d gone through that cake faster than anyone expected. It had been huge, but somehow it didn’t last more than a couple of days. Tia had refused to take a slice home, saying it was Bliss’s cake and she didn’t want to take it away from her. None of us argued. Bliss deserved to enjoy every bite.
This one was smaller, but I’d put the same care into making it. It wouldn’t erase what I had to tell her, but maybe it could soften the moment.
She took a bite, then smiled. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I let her eat without rushing, watching her take her time. When she was finished, she leaned back against the couch and looked at me expectantly. “So…what did you want to talk to me about?”
I drew in a deep breath and rubbed my hands together before speaking. “I went to the police station yesterday.”
Her head tilted slightly. “You did?”
“Yes. They found the guy.”
I let that sit between us for a moment, watching her face carefully. Her expression was neutral when she said, “Okay.”
Her reaction made me pause. “Do you have questions? I’m not going to tell you anything unless you want to know. I don’t want to overwhelm you, so…I’m giving you time to think about it.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her gaze to her hands, her fingers pulling at the skin around her nails. She swallowed before speaking again. “What’s his name?”
I didn’t look away from her. “Dillon Toller.”
I hoped that would be the last time I’d ever have to say it out loud.
She went quiet again, her shoulders starting to tense, the picking at her skin becoming more frantic. I reached out and gently took her hands, stopping her from hurting herself. I didn’t say anything right away, letting her have the space to decide if she wanted to ask more.
“Is he…uhm, is he going to jail?”
“Officer Holloway said that because of the evidence—” I stopped myself before telling her he’d done the same thing to five other girls. She didn’t need that detail. It would only add to the weight she already carried. “They’ll probably prosecute him with or without you testifying in court. But if you would like to—”
“No.” She shook her head quickly, her voice breaking as tears began to well in her eyes. “No, I don’t want to go to court and see him. I don’t want to see him ever again.”
“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” I told her, my voice low but firm as I pulled her into my arms. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is in your hands. It’s all up to you.”
She leaned against my chest, her body trembling, and I cupped the side of her head, holding her close. It was the first time she’d let herself cry since the hospital, and I held her until her breathing started to slow again.
I knew the conversation had to happen, but I also knew this would be the last time we talked about it unless she asked me to.
She had gone through enough, and she was free to live her life without ever having to remember that man.
Epilogue
Bliss
It was the Sunday beforeThe Oldwould open again, and the anticipation had been building in me for days. I couldn’t sit still that morning. Every time I thought about walking into the shop again, smelling the familiar mix of oil and sweat, my chest felt tight in the best way. I had missed it more than I realized. Missed the sound of tools clanging against metal, the steady rhythm of voices calling across the space, the way Dad seemed to carry himself differently when he was in work mode. It was the place where they felt most themselves.
Summer break had been too long, and I truly didn’t understand why Dad closed the pace for too long when he missed it the most. Dash said it’s because he told himself early on that breaks were necessary to not go crazy. I figured that was a valuable reason, but the break tortured him more than anything.
To mark the night before our return, Odin suggested we have one last easy evening. A movie projected onto the old wooden wall, a few bags of chips, and some sodas. He handed the errand to the guys and me, telling us to make a run to the gas station.
The five of us piled into Tripp’s car and drove the short five minutes.
