Saving Bliss

by Rachael Brownell

  He gave his life to save mine. I will be forever grateful to him and for the time we spent together. I'll always remember the way he made me feel, and I'll hold those memories close to my heart as I continue to try and move past the pain and sorrow.

  There are days that I wish I could forget, but I know it will never happen. Owen made an impact on my life, on my heart. I wouldn't change that for the world.

  My parents don't understand why I'm leaving. I tried to explain to them on more than one occasion my need to get away from Freeman Falls. I'm sick of being in the spotlight. I'm tired of being a Cooper. So many expectations are attached to my name.

  My father still expects me to go to law school and follow in his footsteps. Not. Going. To. Happen. When he told me a few months ago that he applied to Harvard for me, I was appalled. All I could do was shake my head and walk away. I didn't even have the words to describe how I felt about his decision for my future.

  My acceptance letter came last week. I've been hiding it in my room.

  His announcement came out of nowhere, too. I knew that he had been hiding something from me, but I never would have guessed it was that. Sneaking around. Making hushed phone calls. Leaving early for his office and coming home late. I figured he got himself in trouble again. Leaving started to sound better and better with each day that passed.

  As the plane touches down on the tarmac at JFK, my stomach clenches. I wait patiently as the other passengers attempt to exit the plane as quickly as possible. I’m not in the mood to be pressed between hot bodies all trying to shove their way forward. Once the last person is about to exit, I stand and pull down my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment.

  The flight attendant smiles at me as I cross the threshold. Her smile is weak at best. She looks exhausted. The flight was a short one for me, only about an hour, with New York being my final destination. For now. She looks as if she's been working for days.

  As I wait for the carousel to bring my luggage around, I remember the last time I was in this exact location. I was texting back and forth with Avery, telling her all about Owen. Owen was waiting for my luggage. I remember the surprised and aggravated look on his face when I told him how many bags we were waiting for.

  That may have been the day I started to crush on him. I couldn't help myself. I was being a bitch to him, and he was taking it in stride. He was attempting to do his job and be professional. I was making it harder for him than it had to be, all because I was pissed at my father for hiring him. I thought I could take care of myself. I thought he had done it to punish me. I had been wrong.

  I grab my bag before it passes by me again. One bag this time, not five. I'm going to be traveling light for the next few months. I left my heels at home. My extra purses and unnecessary “just in case” outfits didn't make the cut, either. After tomorrow, I'm simply going to have to make do with what I have.

  The car service is waiting for me at the curb. I leave my luggage for the driver to load into the trunk and climb in the back seat. Once he shuts the door behind me, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Being in the city again is already taking its toll on my heart, and we haven’t even left the airport yet.

  After checking into my room, I take a walk down to Central Park, my can of Mace readily available. I may not be in imminent danger anymore, but I still need to be cautious. It's going to be getting dark soon. I'm alone. Nothing screams “attack me” like a single woman in the park alone at night.

  I pause before entering the park. My mind flashes back to the day I was taken. Vivid images flash through my mind. Avery and her cousin. Owen. The sound of guns being fired. Owen falling to the floor.

  Finding the closest bench, I take a seat. I stare down the path into the park, praying the flashbacks go away soon. I can feel my heart starting to race, a panic attack about to surface, so I put my head between my legs and take a few deep breaths, hoping to push it away before it's full blown.

  After a few minutes, my breathing returns to normal and I sit back up. People are walking past me as if nothing just happened. No one seemed to notice me or my freak out. For that, I can be thankful, I guess. I've always hated falling apart in front of people.

  Once I muster the courage to stand, I shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket and turn back toward the hotel. I thought I would be able to handle it. I thought I had pushed past the fear. I know how things are going to turn out tomorrow. If I’m able to cross the threshold, I’ll be surprised.

  Fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill, I walk the three blocks back to the hotel with my head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone. I give myself the same pep talk as yesterday before I boarded the plane. The same pep talk I gave myself before I bought my ticket.

  He's not going to be there because he can't be, Bliss. If he could, he would. He would be there, waiting with open arms. He would pull you in close, hold you tight, and kiss you deeply. He loved you. You're doing this because you love him. You'll always love him, and this is how you'll honor him. You'll keep your promise to him and start over the way you planned to start over together. You can do this.

  Falling onto the bed in a fit of tears, I finally give in to the ache in my chest. I allow myself to cry until there are no tears left, and just as I'm about to finally let exhaustion take me, I hear it. I walk to the windows and watch as the crowd goes wild, counting down to from ten to one. The entire city rings in the new year as confetti rains down on them, singing loudly and kissing those closest to them.

  The new year is here, and I'm starting it the way I planned. The way we had planned.

  Tomorrow, I will walk back to Central Park. I'll find the skating rink we found last year. I'll sit on the same bench we occupied. I'll drink hot chocolate to warm me on the inside, and then I'll take the ice. I'll lift my head to the sky and say a prayer. I know he's watching, guiding and protecting me. I can feel it. I've felt his presence every day since I was dragged out of that hell hole.

  It's both heartwarming and heart wrenching.

  Rolling over, I pick the phone up off the receiver to make it stop ringing and slam it back down. Between the celebrations last night, the couple in the next room, and my crying fits, I barely slept more than a few hours on and off. I know I need to get up and get ready if I'm going to make it on time, but I lack the necessary motivation. And coffee.

  I can be late. No one will be there to notice.

  My inner negativity is creeping up on me again. I promised myself last night that I wouldn't let it. I know what I'm in for today. It's going to be a rough one, but I'm strong enough to handle it. I wouldn't have bought the plane ticket if I wasn't. I wouldn't be here now if I couldn't deal with it.

  This is going to help. I'm going to get closure. Then, I'm going to leave for Europe and decompress for as long as it takes. I'm going to enjoy the trip, too. Even if it kills me.

  I shower and blow out my hair. After curling it, I pull it high on my head and off my neck. Snagging my scarf from the floor where I dropped it last night on my way in, I shove my arms into my jacket, buttoning it as I head toward the door. My reflection in the mirror catches my eye, and I barely recognize the girl staring back at me.

  My smile is forced.

  My body looks frail. I lost thirty pounds after everything happened, and I've only been able to gain about ten pounds back. I don't look sickly, but I'm too thin in my opinion.

  My eyes concern me the most. They've lost their sparkle.

  I shake my head and reach for the handle, sucking in a deep breath as I turn it.

  I. Can. Do. This.

  I tell myself that over and over again as I make my way down the long hallway toward the elevators. I repeat it again as I descend the five floors to the lobby. When the crisp morning air smacks me in the face, I repeat it one last time before turning down the sidewalk and head toward my destination.

  People push past me, walking around me as I slowly stroll toward Central Park. I will my feet to move faster,
but they only know one speed. I'm pretty sure my fear has something to do with it. As much as I try to convince myself that I can handle what is about to happen, I also know that I'll be sitting on that bench longer than planned. I won't be drinking hot chocolate, I’ll be mourning my loss. Alone.

  If that's what it takes to get closure, so be it. I'll sit there all damn day and cry. I'll allow myself to fall, but I'll also pick myself back up and try again. Today was supposed to be about second chances. We were going to start over, together. So, I will start over. My second chance begins now. If I could only will myself to walk into the park.

  I'm standing at the entrance again. Staring down the path that will lead me to the skating rink. It's not far from where I am. I close my eyes and picture it in my mind. I see us on the ice. Owen is holding my hands, skating backward. I'm leaning forward into him to avoid falling.

  Deep breathe in. One step forward. Deep breathe out.

  The first step is the hardest.

  I square my shoulder and lift my head.

  I am going to do this. I can do this.

  As the rink comes into view, I sigh in relief. It's empty. I only see one person, and they’re sitting on a bench. Our bench. How am I going to kick them off our bench when so many others are available for me to sit on?

  I cross over the bridge and make my way toward the ice. That's when I notice it. A single white rose sitting on the ground at the end of the bridge. Out of curiosity, I bend and pick it up. Bringing it to my nose, I close my eyes and inhale the fresh scent.

  When I open my eyes again, there is a pair of legs in front of me. I slowly move my hand toward my purse and reach in, clutching my hand around my can of Mace. I'm about to pull in out when his voice stops me.

  "You came."

  17

  Owen

  Silently, I watch her walk up the path and over the bridge. As soon as she bends down, picking up the white rose I left for her, I step out from behind the tree. Watching as her eyes slowly close, she brings the rose to her nose, breathing in deeply. She looks so beautiful.

  When I look over to where Jay is sitting on our bench, he nods his head, giving me the permission I was seeking. Wanting to run to her and gather her in my arms, I force myself to approach her slowly, stopping only inches from where she's still crouched down. The moment she notices me, her body goes stiff. I wait as long as I can for her to look up, but she doesn't. Instead, she reaches for something in her purse. I need to get lost in her eyes. I've waited too long for this.

  "You came."

  Two simple words, but I know she'll understand the meaning behind them. Her presence proves she still cares about me. No matter what her father says, Bliss still loves me.

  When her heads whips up, her eyes find mine. She stares at me, shock the only emotion I see on her face. Why is she surprised to see me? Did she not think I would remember? Did she doubt that I would show up? We made these plans together.

  "Owen," she whispers.

  Her voice. God, I've missed that voice. I reach my hand out to help her to her feet, a grin appearing on my face for the first time in almost a year. It feels good to smile again.

  When she finally takes my hand, I pull her directly into my body and hold her tight against me. I breathe in her fresh scent and close my eyes. I'm in heaven. I feel her body go rigid. This is not the reaction I expected from her. I was thinking of something more along the lines of her jumping into my arms and kissing me passionately. Judging by the furrow of her brow when I pull back and hold her at arm's length, it's as if she is confused.

  "Bliss." It's all I can say. There's so much that I want to ask her, but my voice betrays me and cracks as I speak her name. It's been more than thirteen months since I've seen her, and all I've imagined is this day. I've dreamt about what I would say to her, and now, my mind has gone blank.

  "How?" I tilt my head to the side, studying her face. When I don't respond, she continues. "You died," she stutters, her voice cracking as the tears being to fall.

  "What do you mean? I didn't die, Bliss."

  I'm confused. Didn't her father tell her that I came to see her when she was in California with her mother? Didn't he give her my phone number that I left for her? I thought he might try and keep us apart, but I never imagined he would let her believe I died that day. What kind of father…

  "But. You weren't moving, and my parents said—"

  "They lied, Bliss. They lied to you,” I reply, cutting her off.

  The look on her face and the concern in her words make my heart swell. I believe her. I don't need to ask questions. It's not a matter of facts. The truth is, I’m here, I’m not dead. Her parents led her to believe otherwise. I'm not sure why, and I don't really care.

  "I never thought I'd see you again." Her voice is small, much smaller than it ever has been before.

  "I'm here, Bliss," I say, pulling her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. She's lost weight. It's not much, but enough that I notice a difference. She still feels amazing.

  We stand, holding each other, in the middle of the sidewalk for a few minutes. Words will never be enough to erase her memory of that day. It was part of the plan to let them think they shot me, killing me. I laid on the ground, my eyes open and focused on Bliss, while Jay and his team cleaned up.

  Jay knew taking me down would be enough to distract Avery and the rest of the men. One by one, they all went down. When Jay freed Bliss and she crawled over to me, I watched as Jay shook his head from behind her. I couldn't let her know that I was alive, not yet anyway.

  Once she was led out of the room, Jay helped me up and started tending to my wound. Avery was a good shot. She nailed me close to my heart. A few inches to the left, and I wouldn't be standing here right now. It was a risk I was willing to take, a risk I had to take. It worked, and everyone that mattered walked out alive.

  I did have to go to the hospital and spent a week recovering, Jay beside me the entire time. He kept me updated on Bliss, promising me that he would take me to her as soon as I was released. True to his word, we drove straight to the airport from the hospital.

  She was on vacation with her mother when I showed up the first time. Mr. Cooper was less than enthusiastic to see me. Even though his troubles were finished and his daughter was safe, he was blaming me for her mental state. His exact words were something about how I failed her. I let him get to me.

  I believed him.

  I had failed her.

  Bliss was taken because I missed one important detail. If we hadn't found her, there's no telling where she would be today. Thoughts of her torture consumed me for a few months. The holidays passed, as did Chelsea's birthday and my own. I knew I was drowning in my own misery and the only way I was going to be able to pull myself out was to see her. I needed to see for myself that she was alive and well, that she was doing okay without me.

  Bliss was coming back to the city to clear out our apartment. So I called the one person I knew who would help me without hesitation. I didn’t want to ask him for help again, but I knew he would without question. Our relationship has slowly improved over the last year. We talk regularly. As long as Chelsea’s name doesn’t come up, things are good.

  Before she arrived, Jay placed a few security cameras inside the apartment. I watched her pack her things room by room. Whenever she was given a moment alone, the tears would fall. As soon as someone else would come in the room, she acted completely normal.

  I didn't need to see her eyes or hear her voice to know that she was anything other than drowning like I was. That's when I remembered my promise to her to be here. A promise I didn't have to think twice about. I wanted to run to her the moment I saw she was in the apartment, but I made myself wait.

  It's been six months, and the look on her face when she first saw me was worth every second we were apart. What's going to be even better is what comes next.

  Bliss

  I let Owen hold me. His arms feel safe. I've missed the feel of his body against min
e. I've missed the sounds of his beating heart. I've missed him, but I'm also afraid to speak, and I'm afraid to let go. I'm worried he'll disappear, that's he's a figment of my imagination.

  A shiver runs down my spine, and I force myself to step back. Owen holds on tightly before finally releasing me, but not completely. He takes my hand, and we start to walk.

  "Are you ready?" he asks.

  "For what?"

  "For what happens now. To spend the rest of your life with me."

  I am. I should tell him that, but my voice has disappeared. I still can't believe this is real. I haven't laid eyes on him in over a year, or heard his voice, or felt his arms around me in so long. We're getting our chance, a chance I thought we had been robbed of.

  "Bliss. What's the matter?"

  "Nothing. Everything is…perfect. I think I'm still in shock, that's all."

  Owen stops walking, but I continue, letting his hand fall from mine. I know he'll catch up to me. He needs a minute to understand what I'm feeling, and I need a minute to figure out what to say to him. Of course, I want to start my life with him. I was ready before my life went to shit, and my feelings for him haven't changed. What has changed is the fact that I'm no longer loving the memory of Owen. I'm getting the chance to love the real him.

  When he finally catches up with me, Owen wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to a stop. Turning to face him, I find his face is pinched with concern.

  "I came to visit you," he says. I'm about to ask when, but he finally continues. "It's not like I didn't try to see you, I mean. Your father, he was against it. He made me stay away, blamed me for everything. He told me that you didn't want to see me. I never believed him, but I also didn't want to make you hurt any more than you already were. If I had known you were hurting because you thought I was dead, I never would have listened to him. I would have fought harder. I wouldn't have waited until today to see you. You have to believe me, Bliss. I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you. Saving you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but I would do it all over again as long as it meant I could spend the rest of my life with you."