“Good,” I whispered.
“Go see her,” my father told me. “She’s been asking for you.”
Nodding, I walked the hallway to Bliss’ bedroom. I knocked on the door and poked my head in. Bliss was lying in the bed, eyes closed, hand on her belly.
The bathroom door opened, and my mother rushed into the room. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Blake?” She opened her arms and I stepped into them. “Baby, where have you been?”
Words escaped me in that moment. I wanted to tell her everything, but I was just exhausted from the day.
“Sissy?” Bliss sat up. “You’re back.”
“Hey.” I tore myself from my mother’s embrace and walked over to the bed. Climbing onto it, I hugged my twin. “I’m back.” I heard her soft cries in my ear and pulled back. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Now I am. Tyler’s in jail. I’m pressing charges.”
I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Good. It’s time to let him go.”
“I will if you do.”
My eyes flashed to hers. “What?”
“You have to let go of your anger, Blake.”
“I’m mad because of what he did to you,” I argued. “He hurt you.”
“He did. But you can’t change that. You can’t fight every battle for me.”
My mother cleared her throat behind me. “I’m going to step out for a bit.”
I glanced back at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
When we were alone, Bliss said, “You’re my best friend. You love me and you want to protect me. Sissy, you have. You kicked Damon Hugeley in the ass when he stole my lunch. You beat up Lindsey Hunt when she burned my cheer uniform because her boyfriend asked me to Homecoming. You told me to leave Tyler’s ass a long time ago. I’m the one who didn’t listen. Since you can’t be mad at me, you took it out on him. And you put yourself in jeopardy to do it.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I said.
She smiled sadly. “You kind of are.”
“I’m not.”
“Blake, you are.”
Closing my eyes, I leaned my forehead against hers. “Bliss, stop. I told you—”
“No. I messed up my plan, I stayed in a bad relationship, and I knew better. Because our parents showed us every day what a healthy relationship is, our father respects our mother above all else, our siblings tell it like it is even if it hurts, and my sister is The Muthafuckin’ Breakup Expert.”
A tear fell from my eyes. I dashed it away quickly. The lump in my throat seemed to grow with each passing minute.
“I knew better,” she continued. “I didn’tdobetter.”
“But him hitting you is not your fault.”
“It’s not yours, either.”
Bliss knew me better than anyone. I should’ve known I couldn’t hide my guilt from her. “I wasn’t here. I was so into myself and my feelings.”
“You shouldn’t have to be here. You get to be selfish sometimes. Not every time, but sometimes. We’re all grown, we make decisions, we live with the consequences.”
My parents had taught us to follow our hearts. They warned us that every decision we made wouldn’t be right, and it was okay. They encouraged us to learn from our mistakes and be better.
