Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
My eyes sting and I blink rapidly before any tears can form.
“You didn’t cause his pain,” Elias adds. “You ran into it. That pain was already there, long before you ever opened your mouth.”
I look at him, my dear friend, who knows me better than I know myself sometimes. “Thank you. I think I know that, but it helps to hear you say it.”
“And you absolutely cannot carry the weight of his father’s damage on your shoulders,” he says firmly. “That’s not your burden. Regret will eat you alive if you let it, and you don’t deserve that.”
He softens again, squeezing my knee. “This doesn’t make you cruel. And it sure doesn’t make you careless or wrong. It makes you human, doing a hard job in an impossible situation. If Grizz is half the man I think he is, he’s going to come to that same conclusion.”
I let out a shaky breath, just enough to ease some of the hurt. “You really think it will be okay?”
“I do. And I don’t think you should be consumed by this. Grizz has to find his way through that on his own.”
I nod slowly, clutching my wineglass with both hands. We sit there in the dim light, the city humming faintly outside my windows, the mess of it all finally existing out loud.
Elias sets his glass down with intention, the sound soft but grounding.
“Okay,” he says gently. “We need to level-set.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate that I feel wrung out, frayed at the edges. I barely recognize myself.
“I don’t want to see you like this,” he continues. “This isn’t the Daisy I know. The Daisy I know and love is a strong woman who doesn’t spiral or disappear into regret.”
I swallow. “I’m done spiraling. And I refuse to regret this.”
Elias leans forward, forearms on his knees. “We need a game plan. And it starts with one question.” He holds my gaze. “What do you want, Daisy… deep down. What do you actually want?”
I stare at my wine for a long beat, watching the light catch in the glass, buying time because once I start, I know I won’t be able to stop.
“I couldn’t stand him,” I say finally, a faint, incredulous smile pulling at my mouth.
Elias laughs. “That’s not where I thought this was going to go, but okay… I’m listening.”
I offer him a half-hearted smile. “When I first met Grizz, he was everything I detested. He was volatile. Arrogant. The league’s favorite problem child who got away with things because he could score and sell jerseys.” I shake my head. “He represented power without accountability.”
“The exact system you’ve spent your career pushing back against,” Elias says.
“Exactly. I thought he was lazy with his humanity. Reckless with other people.” My smile shifts—softens, turns inward. I look my best friend dead in the eye. “And I was wrong. So very wrong. Once I got to know him, he wasn’t everything I hated. He was everything I was scared of.”
Elias’s expression dials in. “You’re not afraid of anything.”
“Yeah… I was scared because he was everything I could possibly want, and somehow it seemed way too good to be real and for the long run. He’s painfully true to himself,” I continue. “He doesn’t curate a version that’s easy to digest. He doesn’t hide behind polish or charm. He just… is. Even when it costs him.” My voice wobbles slightly. “Especially when it costs him.”
I shake my head slowly. “He remembers things. Small things.”
Elias snorts. “That’s your bar now? Remembering things? Daisy, didn’t you tell me he once forgot his own birthday?”
“That’s not what I mean,” I say quickly. “He notices when I’m overwhelmed before I say a word. He listens—even when he pretends he doesn’t.”
Elias tilts his head, unconvinced. “He’s volatile and stubborn and holds grudges like a child. And let’s not pretend he isn’t emotionally allergic to talking things through.”
I laugh, but it’s watery. “He is. God, he really is.”
“So,” Elias presses gently, “why him?”
Because the answer is already there.
“Because he’s gentle in ways no one sees,” I say. “With kids and his sister. With me too. He makes space for people without knowing that’s what he’s doing.”
Elias doesn’t interrupt this time, but I can feel him listening harder.
“He carries so much pain,” I continue, quieter now, “and never uses it as an excuse. He just… carries it. And still shows up. Still fights. Still loves the people who matter, even when he doesn’t think he deserves anything back.”
Elias exhales through his nose. “You’re describing a man who’s a mess.”
“I know,” I say. “But he’s an honest one.”
I take a moment.
“And when he looks at me,” I add, my voice unsteady now, “it’s not like I’m something to fix or manage. It’s like he’s surprised I exist. Like I matter just by being there.”