Page 58 of Grizz

I nod.“Yeah.Figured if you’re going to be calling me out on my own shit, maybe I should know who’s doing it.”

She releases a small smile, softer than the ones she gives at work, and settles into my side.The weight of her against my arm feels too fucking good.

“Well,” she begins, “I grew up outside DC.Two academic parents.Sweet, supportive, very ‘attend every school play’ energy.I was not the rebellious child.I was the… curious one.The one who wanted to understand how the world worked.One sister, who’s the complete opposite of me, works in finance.”

I listen.Really listen because if I’m being honest, Daisy is the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met.

She touches her hair, thinking.“My parents still live there.Same house.Same routine.They’re very big on tradition.”

“Let me guess… big Thanksgiving dinner with special china that has turkeys on it?”

“Bingo,” she says with a laugh.“Thanksgiving is huge in our family.”She gives a small shrug.“I can’t wait for the trip home to spend it with them.”

“Yeah?So you’ll be back for Thanksgiving weekend?”

“Probably.I haven’t been home since summer.”She twirls her glass, eyes lifting back to mine.“What about you?Do you ever go home for the holidays?I mean… I get you Canadians do Thanksgiving in October, but do you spend it at home?”

A beat.Then another.“Sometimes,” I say.

She waits, the silence open but not pushing—just leaving space in case I want to fill it.

“My sister does Canadian Thanksgiving right,” I say.“Full spread.The good stuff.But she’s been busy lately.Or rather it’s just that she’s been doing everything.”Another breath.A longer one.“Taking care of our dad.”

Daisy’s eyes soften and I continue before I chicken out.“He’s getting worse and it seems to be snowballing.His memory… you know, it comes and goes.But mostly goes.My sister’s been carrying the brunt of it, handling all his doctor’s appointments and making sure he doesn’t walk out in the snow wearing slippers.And I’m…” I shake my head.“I’m here.Playing hockey.Sending money.Pretending that’s enough.”

Daisy’s voice is soft, tissue thin.“I’m sorry.I can’t even imagine.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say, even though it’s clearly not.“It’s just—” I pause, searching for words that feel both true and fair.“You already know he wasn’t a good dad.I mean… he tried.In his own fucked-up way.He worked two jobs and he found ice time for me wherever he could.Drove me everywhere and paid for gear he couldn’t afford.He pushed me harder than anyone ever has and… I became what I am today because of him.”

Daisy’s eyes grow concerned, grief and understanding mixing.

“But he also constantly tore me down.Every mistake I made, he made bigger.Every game I didn’t dominate?He made that my fault.Every error was a weakness.Every weakness was a failure.”I run my hand down my face.“And the praise… the warmth… never got it, not a fuckin’ whiff of it.”

Her brows knit, her throat working like she has to hold back her own emotion.For some reason, seeing the glint of empathy in her eyes has my words tumbling out.

“And now,” I say, “all the shit he did?All the ways he broke me down?He doesn’t remember any of it.Not one fucking thing.He remembers taking me to tournaments.He remembers goals I scored.But the screaming, the pressure… the…hurt?”I gesture helplessly.“Gone.”

She leans forward, voice barely above a whisper.“That must feel like… a betrayal.Like he gets to forget the pain you’re still carrying.”

I go rigid.

Because that’s exactly it.Exactly the thing I’ve never said out loud.Exactly the thing I didn’t want named.

“Grizz,” she says, “you don’t have to hold that alone.The conflict you feel—loving the parts of him that built you and hating the parts that broke you—it’s real.It’s—”

No.Nope.That’s one notch too far.A door too far open.A truth too exposed.I don’t want to hear it, and I most certainly don’t want this conversation anymore.

So I do the only thing I know how to do when the walls start cracking and I shut her up with my mouth.

I lean forward and kiss her.Hard.The kind of kiss that swallows words and steals breath and replaces all the vulnerability with heat.

My glass hits the carpet and she melts into me instantly, hands finding my jaw, pulling me deeper.I shift, dragging her across the couch, her legs sliding over mine as her chest presses into me.

Her breath catches, and I take that moment—that tiny surrender—and break the kiss just enough to murmur against her lips, “No more talking.”

She exhales, shaky.“Yeah… okay.”

I kiss her again, harder.She grips my shoulders, nails biting into my skin.