Page 2 of Bliss, Part 2

Dash

I couldn’t fucking do it anymore.

Every day that passed got harder. I was breaking apart, bit by bit, in ways I couldn’t explain to anyone. I’d go out and search with the others, but I wasn’t really there. Not fully. I was exhausted, my eyes burned from sleep deprivation, and no matter how many blocks we covered or how many places we checked, nothing changed.

Bliss was still missing.

And I was still out here trying to hold myself together with denial.

But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. I’d keep going until I collapsed or until I held her in my arms again.

Still, the guilt…that was the hardest part.

I knew, logically, I hadn’t caused this. It wasn’t my fault she disappeared. But my heart didn’t care about logic. Because if I had gone with her that day, if I hadn’t stayed back to paint the fucking barn with the others, maybe she’d still be here. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe she wouldn’t have vanished into whatever black hole swallowed her up.

I kept going back to that moment in my head: me standing in the yard, brush in hand, watching her drive off with a smile and a wave. And I let her go.

That was the last time I saw her.

The weight of it was too much. I hadn’t eaten. I couldn’t sleep. Every time someone tried to give me a hug, Dad, Owen, or the guys, I shoved them away. I didn’t mean to be cruel. I just…couldn’t be touched. The second anyone put their hand on me, I felt like I’d fall apart. The grief was sitting just under the surface, trembling like a wire stretched too tight.

I wasn’t ready to come undone.

Not yet.

Not until I knew she was okay.

That’s what I was afraid of the most. That she wasn’t. That maybe she wasn’t even with us anymore. That maybe she was lying somewhere cold and alone and…no.

I wouldn’t let my brain go there.

Still, the thought was there, circling like a vulture. And when it got too loud in my head, I walked out behind the house and clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, trying to will the panic out of me. Trying to swallow the rage and helplessness threatening to take me down. I wanted to hit something. Break something.

Instead, I paced. I stayed up when everyone tried to get even the slightest bit of sleep. I scribbled names of places we hadn’t checked yet, drew maps, retraced every street we’d already covered. I scrolled through social media I never fucking used, called old classmates, refreshed the Find My Phone app even though I knew it was off.

How could it be that we were all looking for her, so many people, and still no one had found a trace? Nothing. Not even the fucking loaf of bread we knew she had bought.

But even with all that, deep down, something told me she wasn’t far. I didn’t feel like she was gone from here completely. There was this…pull. I could still sense her. She was close. Still in town. Still breathing. Still waiting for us to find her.

Three days.

It’s been three long fucking days without Bliss.

Three days without the girl who lit up every single room she walked into. The girl who made everything better just by being nearby. The girl who was my anchor. She was to all of us.

And now she was gone.

And I had no idea how I was supposed to keep living my life without her in it.

But I didn’t let myself think that far ahead. I couldn’t. Because the second I imagined a future without her, it felt like the ground opened beneath me.

We’d find her.

We had to.

We will, Lissy.

I promise.

***

I stepped out onto the porch later that night, unable to think straight in the emptiness of my room. Without her, no room in this house felt right. I wasn’t surprised to see Ashby already out there, sitting on the steps with his elbows on his knees, a hoodie pulled over his head.

He looked like hell.

Which meant I probably did too.

I sat down next to him without saying anything for a minute. We just listened to the night sounds, the wind shifting through the trees, the lake’s small waves hitting the shore. Our world had gotten too quiet lately.

“I can’t fucking breathe sometimes,”

I finally said.

Ashby glanced over at me, then looked down at the gravel under his shoes.

“Yeah. Same.”

I rubbed at my face with both hands.

“I keep thinking if I hadn’t stayed back to help you guys with the damn barn, if I’d just gone with her, we wouldn’t be here.”

Ashby didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, he said, “You’re not the only one thinking shit like that. It’s not our fault.”

“Doesn’t stop it from feeling like it is,” I said.

That was the problem. Logic didn’t help grief. Grief didn’t care about sense. It just picked at you until you bled.

“You think she’s okay?” I asked.

Ashby was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded.

“Yeah. I think she’s scared. I think she’s waiting. But I don’t think she’s gone.”

“I feel her too,”

I whispered.

“Still here. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just this…gut thing. I feel her.”

“Me too,”

he said.

“I swear sometimes I turn a corner and expect to see her. Like she’s just gonna be standing there, arms crossed, pissed we made such a big deal out of this.”

That made me smile. Ever so slightly.

“She’d totally be pissed.”

“She’d say we were being dramatic,”

Ashby muttered, then laughed softly, but it cracked halfway through. I could hear the ache behind it.

I glanced at him, then down at the porch between us.

“Ash…if she doesn’t…”

“Don’t,”

he cut in.

“But if she doesn’t…”

He looked up, eyes tired.

“We’ll deal with that if we have to. But not yet. Not tonight. Tonight we believe she’s coming back. Got it?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

Ashby nudged my knee with his.

“We’re not done looking.”

“I know,”

I said, sighing as I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I’m not stopping.”

“We’ll find her. Because we don’t quit on the people we love.”