Olivia’s Hunt - Ch 8
Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bolanger
“She would be so proud of you,” Dad whispered into my hair.
My heart clenched at his use of past tense and I quietly corrected him. “She is proud of us, Dad.”
He tightened his grip and nodded, his unshaven chin scratching through to my scalp. “You’re right. She is.”
We stepped apart and I suddenly realized how tired I was. Dad steadied me with a hand on my shoulder when I swayed a little. “It takes a lot out of us to shift,” he said.
“Yeah. I can feel that.” The adrenaline was wearing off and I was ready for something to eat and a nap.
He draped his arm over my shoulders and guided us back to the house. No matter how many times we’d come in since her passing, I still caught myself looking for mom in the kitchen or in her favorite chair beside the fire place, and the emptiness gaped deeply every time I realized she wasn’t there.
Dad switched the lights on then headed for the kitchen. He pulled out the makings of a sandwich, clearly as hungry as I was.
I marveled at how well he was taking her loss, seeming to go on as though it hadn’t happened. Like the two of us had always been on our own.
“How do you do it, Dad? How do you just go on?” I crossed my arms at my stomach and watched him put together left over strips of venison and cheese on our favorite rye bread. He didn’t answer until he’d put one of the sandwiches in front of me and taken a seat at the table.
“Your mother and I promised each other a long time ago, before you were born, that if something ever happened to one of us, we wouldn’t stop living. Promised we would move on, even re-marry.” His jaw ticked and toyed absently with the plate. “Then, when you were born, and we promised again. For your sake.” He looked up and his blue grey eyes were almost colorless as if the memory of Mom’s loss clouded them over. “We knew you would need us to be strong. Losing one parent to death would be hard enough, losing the other to grief - we promised we wouldn’t make you bear that burden.” He cleared his throat. “She didn’t suffer, Olivia, and she’s Home now. Some day, we’ll see her again, but until then you and I have work to do. She wouldn’t want either of us to waste time living in the past.”
Anger flushed my skin but Dad held up his hand.
“I didn’t say we forget her,” he said. “Exactly the opposite. We honor her memory by living our lives the way the Creator wants us to. You’ll meet your mate, you’ll marry, have children, and be the greatest alpha pair that has ever lived.” He caught my hand. “It’s what Mom wants for you, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it does.”
I stared at him with a new respect. “I want to be as strong as you,” I whispered. “But I miss her so much.”
He pulled me close. “I know, sweetheart.”
“I want her to be at my wedding. I want her to teach me how to be a mom. I want…” Sobs choked out my words and Dad held me, letting me cry. After a few minutes, I pulled back. “I’m sorry I can’t stop crying. I don’t want to cry anymore.”
“Cry all you need to.” He soothed. “It’s completely natural. I’d worry if you didn’t.” He brushed the hair from my eyes. “Eat something. You’ll feel better. I promise.”
Nodding, I sat and obediently took a bite of the sandwich. She rested quietly at the back of my mind, but Her presence was much more a part of me rather than a separate being occupying space in my head.
“Has She settled down?” Dad asked.
“Yes.” I turned my attention to Her. She lifted Her head and gazed at me, content. “She seems content.”
“Good.” He picked up his empty plate and set it in the sink. “Don’t be surprised if you have some intense dreams tonight. She probably has a lot to show you, and some of it might not make sense right away. They might be memories She wants you to remember, or visions of your future.” His neck darkened, and I knew this was something Mom should have been explaining to me. He turned back, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “Your mom journaled. I would go for a run to clear my head. Once your Mother and I married, we shared our visions with each other.” He looked at the floor then back at me. “If you need to talk about it, I’m here, okay?”
“Did you see your future?” I asked.
“Sometimes. I saw your Mother and I…together…years before I met her.” His neck and upper chest grew splotchy red, and my cheeks heated.
I caught his gist and quickly averted my gaze. “I’ll let you know if I need to talk.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I just didn’t want you to be surprised.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled and carried my own plate to the sink. It was completely dark outside and I yawned, exhaustion creeping up on me. “I love you, Dad.” I kissed his cheek as I headed for my room.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
As I closed my bedroom door, he was still standing in the kitchen, staring distantly toward his room. The room he should be sharing with mom.
I stripped out of the t-shirt and sweats I’d pulled on after the shift and put on a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top, then slid into bed. I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
'Olivia’s Hunt' is unpublished and unedited. These stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.