Page 49 of Grizz

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter and take a deep sip of my steaming drink.

Elias pulls my cocktail away and sets it out of reach.“Daisy, don’t pull this with me.It’s either a guy or a guy.So,” he says, “let’s try this again—slowly—like you’re confessing a sin to a priest.Give it up to Father Elias.”

I exhale and lean closer to him.“Fine.I… slept with him… Grizz.”

He stares.I stare back.

“And…?”he prompts.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.“Twice.”

Elias doesn’t gasp or scold.He just settles deeper into his ridiculous lava-themed lounge chair, folds his hands over his new scarf, and says softly, “Okay.Tell me everything.”

The gentleness in his voice undoes me.“I know, I know,” I rush out.“This is where you’re supposed to tell me what a mistake it was, how unprofessional, how messy—”

“Daisy,” he interrupts instantly, quiet but firm.“You know I’m the last person on this earth who would judge you.”

His gaze holds steady, his patience unwavering.

“God…” I breathe out in a grateful tone.“I know and I appreciate it.I guess I’m judging myself.”

“I can’t change that about you, but,” he adds, tilting his head, “how are you feeling about it?”

I laugh nervously.“How am I feeling?Elias, my life is a grenade I keep pretending is a scented candle.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he says, linking his fingers with mine.“Talk.”

I swallow and search for the right words, but then I realize… Elias is a safe space.I only need to be honest.

“It feels…” The words stick for a second.“It feels good.Too good.And terrifying.And wrong.And right.He’s—God, he’s complicated.And intense.And a complete disaster most days.And I hardly know him.But also… somehow I feel like I do.”

Elias listens.No wincing or lecturing… yet.

“So maybe it was stupid,” I murmur.“Or maybe it wasn’t.And maybe I should just shut it down and focus on my job.But part of me—” I stop, wrapping my arms around myself.“Part of me doesn’t want to.”

He nods slowly.

“Isn’t this,” I whisper, “where you tell me I messed up?”

He shakes his head.“No.This is where I remind you that you deserve to figure out whatyouwant.Not what’s easiest or convenient.Not what just sort of works.The real thing.The thing that makes your soul feel aligned instead of borrowed.”

Elias has always had a way of slicing to the core of me without ever drawing blood.

“Look,” he says gently, “I’m not going to tell you what to do.I refuse to run your emotional GPS unless you explicitly ask.”

“I’m explicitly asking,” I whisper.

He huffs a soft laugh, then readjusts so we’re face-to-face.“Daisy… you remember sophomore year?”

I blink.“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Valentine’s Day.The campus quad.The lanterns.”

Oh.That day.I haven’t thought of it in years, but it floods back.

The volunteer lantern event for the Heart Health fundraiser.Students writing messages to hang from paper lanterns.Everyone giggling and flirting and scribbling inside jokes.

And me, standing beside Elias, staring at my blank lantern far too long.