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)
“I come bearing provisions,” he announces. “For whatever emotional apocalypse we’re dealing with tonight.”
Relief hits me so hard my knees almost buckle.
“Thank God,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. “And thank you for coming last minute. I’m a wreck.”
Elias kicks the door shut behind him and lays everything onto the counter, setting up camp. “I figured. You’ve been giving off ‘spiraling but pretending I’m fine’ energy for days.”
I huff out a hollow laugh. “I’m not pretending.”
“That’s the pretending part,” he says gently.
He looks around my apartment, then back at me, his expression softening. “Okay,” he says. “I’m ready for anything and everything.”
Elias pauses in front of the counter, one hand braced on the marble, the other hovering over the spread like he’s weighing a life-or-death decision. “You get to choose. Wine first? Ice cream? Chips? Or are we doing the whole kit and caboodle?”
I don’t even hesitate. “I need everything.”
He nods slowly, solemn. “Got it. Serious.”
Elias pours the wine without commentary, hands me the glass. I sip on it as he grabs spoons for the ice cream like a man executing a well-rehearsed emergency protocol. “So, what’s going on with you? I feel there’s probably a long story and I’m in the dark… and you know I don’t enjoy being in the dark.”
“There’s a story all right,” I mutter and take a larger sip of my wine. I tell Elias about what happened, laying out for him in excruciating detail every word that was said, every expression I observed, anything I can remember, so he can help me figure out how to fix it.
“It’s been three days,” I tell him upon conclusion. “And Grizz and I haven’t spoken once. I think it’s over between us. Completely done.”
“Have you tried to call him?” he asks.
“Once, and I sent a text. He hasn’t responded and I got a message from the front office that I wasn’t needed on this away trip they’re on. I know Grizz put that into motion. Elias, I don’t even know if I have a job anymore.”
“This is bad,” he says quietly.
“It’s beyond complicated,” I reply, which is the most dishonest word in my vocabulary.
We take everything to the couch—wine, ice cream, spoons, chips—and settle in. Elias leans back, one ankle crossed over his knee, posture relaxed but attentive. I curl into the corner, the weight of the last few days pressing down now that I’ve stopped moving.
I stare at the wall for a moment before I start talking. “I didn’t mean to do it,” I say finally. “I never meant to stir that up for him.”
“I know you didn’t,” he says automatically. “You don’t have that in you.”
“I was just trying to do my job,” I continue, voice tight. “The interview, the fallout, the league—he crossed a line on live TV. I had to step in. I had to say something. And when I said, ‘It’s about more than you,’ I had no idea it would trigger all these horrible childhood memories with him.”
“How could you know?” Elias asks, rhetorically but no less firmly in my defense.
“The second the words left my mouth, it was like I watched him disappear,” I whisper. “Like he went somewhere else completely. And then he looked at me and said I sounded like his father and—” I break off, pressing my lips together hard. “I would never do that to him on purpose. Ever.”
Elias’s expression softens, his voice low. “I know.”
“I keep replaying it,” I say, the ice cream untouched in my lap. “Wondering if I should’ve said something different. If I should’ve just let it go. Part of me feels awful, like I opened a locked box inside him that he’s spent his whole life trying to keep sealed.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself, Daisy. You couldn’t have known that his dad said those same words. He needs to cut you some slack.”
I nod, because I know deep down, Elias is right. I know even deeper down in my own heart that I never meant to hurt Grizz. “I was doing my job. I had to intervene. That’s what Julian hired me for. That’s what the team expects. And now it feels… messy. Maybe I’m both right and wrong at the same time.”
Elias finally reaches over, taking the ice cream container from my hands before it thoroughly melts, and sets it on the coffee table.
“Daisy,” he says, turning. “Listen to me.”
My gaze drops to my wineglass for a moment before lifting to lock onto him.
“I know who you are,” he continues. “I’ve known you for a very long time. You don’t manipulate people. You don’t exploit their pain or weaponize trauma.” He holds my gaze, unwavering. “You were doing right by all parties. By the team. By the league. And yes—by Grizz, even if he can’t see that right now.”