CHAPTER 12 #2
A punch to the solar plexus.
“He could’ve fallen,” she whispers. “It was icy as hell. He could’ve gotten hit by a truck. I just… this can’t keep happening.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, pressing my hand hard over the center of my forehead. My breath moves in and out in slow, controlled drags. “Is he hurt?”
“No. Just cold and disoriented. He was treated at the hospital and he’s okay now, but…” Her voice breaks for the first time. “This is getting worse, Grizz.”
I swallow hard.
“We talked about this,” she says softly. “We hoped he could stay at his place longer, but… I think we need to consider moving him to an assisted living care unit. Somewhere with round-the-clock supervision.”
I stare at the concrete floor.
My father. Round-the-clock care. Another level up. Another reminder of what he’s losing. What he’s already lost. Or what I wish he remembered.
There’s a part of me that wants to say no. That wants to keep him where he is because some twisted, childish part still resents that he gets comfort now. That he gets softness after giving none.
But this isn’t about me.
It’s never been about me.
“Eliza,” I say quietly, “whatever you think is best… do it.”
She exhales, relief and exhaustion tangled together. “I know it’s a lot. I know this brings up… everything.”
All the nights he yelled instead of loved. All the mornings he pushed instead of praised.
“Just tell me what it costs,” I say.
“You already pay for too much—”
“Eliza.” My voice is more resolute now. “I got it. All of it. You’ve taken on his primary handling so I’m sure as shit paying for everything. Whatever he needs and whatever you need.”
She’s quiet for a long beat. “Thank you. I’m going to start looking at facilities tomorrow.
I know he’ll fight me on this, but…” Her voice trails off and I feel horrible she’s the one who has to bear the burden of our father’s illness.
She clears her throat and changes the subject. “So… how are you?”
“I’m good,” I say automatically, images of Daisy flashing in my mind.
It’s a useless lie and we both know it.
Her silence on the other end is loaded. Then she says quietly, “I watched the game today. You weren’t yourself. Not even close. Is it Dad?”
If only it were that easy to blame this on my father and all the ways he messed me up. “No. Nothing to do with him. You know I’m good at compartmentalizing that.”
Which is a blessing for me, and maybe a curse for Eliza. I’m able to hold myself in reserve, keep the walls in place that my dad helped build high years ago. Very little of what he is these days affects me.
“Then what is it?” she presses.
I blow out a breath and lean back against the cold concrete wall, eyes closing for a moment.
She gives me space to choose whether I’m going to say more or hide behind the usual bullshit.
And maybe it’s everything that’s piled up today, or maybe I’m too tired to posture, but the truth slips out before I can catch it.
“I wasn’t all there,” I admit. “Mentally, I mean. My head was somewhere else.”
“If it’s not Dad, then who?” she asks.
I let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know if I’m ready to have my sister weigh in on this.”
“Well, you can’t say that and think I’m not going to pressure you to spill it.” She chuckles. “Just divulge already so I can give you appropriate advice.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Remember the new PR person I told you about?”
“Yeah… Daisy, right?”
“Right. Well… things… escalated.”
Eliza gasps lightly, delighted. “Escalated?”
“I’m not giving you the dirty details,” I snap, though there’s no bite behind it. “It was a mistake. A stupid mistake.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, “This makes more sense.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“I saw that Cougars defenseman cross-check you. And you didn’t do what you usually do.”
I swallow. “Which is?”
“Lose your damn mind and retaliate,” she says. “You just… looked at him. Like your fists weren’t the first thing that came to mind.” I don’t respond, because she’s not wrong. “You can tell your head wasn’t fully in the game.”
“Which is exactly why she’s a mistake. I can’t afford to have her fuck up my game.”
“Maybe she’s not a stupid mistake, Grizz,” she says softly. “Maybe she’s the right mistake.”
I go still.
“Life is fragile,” she adds. “So are relationships. I’m not going to soapbox you because you’re smart enough to know this, but you can’t keep trying to outrun your past. Maybe Daisy is the catalyst to get you to see that.
If she has the power to disrupt your game, imagine what she could do if you channel that in the right way. Just… keep an open mind, okay?”
The words rattle me. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Or maybe she knows exactly.
I swallow. “Yeah. Okay. I will.”
“Good.” There’s a smile in her voice now. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
We hang up.
The silence that fills the corridor afterward is thick and alive, echoing down the dark concrete hall.
I stand there for a long moment, replaying everything… my father, the game, the hit, the non-reaction, Eliza’s words, Daisy’s mouth on mine, her voice saying “Shut up,” the way she didn’t flinch when I told her the worst parts of my past.
Maybe she is a mistake.
But maybe she’s the kind I can’t afford to walk away from.
Or maybe I need to excise her from my life. She’s fucking up my game, and I think if Julian Langley knew the reason behind my shitty performance tonight, he’d fire her without a second thought.
I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that Daisy is absolutely the problem. It’s a problem that needs to be rectified.
I pull out my phone and scroll to Daisy’s name. My thumb hovers only a second before typing: Meet me at my place in an hour.