Page 76 of Grizz

I blink, surprised.

He chuckles to himself.“They’re hiring prettier nurses these days.”He lowers his voice conspiratorially.“Good strategy.”

Eliza flushes crimson.“Dad—”

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, stepping forward a little.I keep my tone warm, respectful, easy.“I’m Daisy.I’m just here with them.”

“With them,” he repeats, testing it.“Well, lucky me.”

Eliza lets out a shaky breath, and I catch her eye, offering a small smile that saysIt’s fine.She nods, grateful.

I don’t know what triggers it—maybe I say Grizz’s name without thinking, maybe it’s the cadence of the room—but his father’s expression suddenly changes.His eyes widen, light flooding back into them like a switch has been flipped.

“James!”he exclaims, delighted.“My boy!”Grizz flinches and takes a step back.“There you are,” his father continues warmly.“Come here.Let me tell you—God, I was just thinking about you.”

He launches into a speech as if he’d been rehearsing it.

“Remember when we used to go fishing up at the lake every summer?You were so patient, even as a kid.Always had that focus.”He laughs.“And your birthdays—your mother and I never missed one.Balloons everywhere.You always wanted chocolate cake.”

It sounds beautiful, the flood of memories pouring out, and this is exactly the type of welcome I know Grizz needs.

His father keeps going, voice thick with pride.Stories of cheering in cold rinks, of encouraging talks after hard games, of a childhood full of warmth and presence and love.A father who showed up.

I glance at Eliza who’s worrying at her lower lip, then to Grizz, expecting a reaction.Maybe a smile.Some type of acknowledgment.

Instead, he looks angry.

His responses are clipped, almost brutal in their restraint.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

“Mm.”

His father doesn’t seem to notice as he beams at Grizz, utterly pleased with himself.

“And then—” His father frowns.“What was I saying?”Confusion clouds his face.The warmth drains away as quickly as it came.“Who are you?”he asks suddenly, agitation creeping in.“Why are you all standing here?”

His hands clench and his breathing quickens.Eliza steps in instinctively, smoothing her voice and touching his arm.“It’s okay, Dad,” she says.“You’re safe.You’re just tired and could use some rest, yeah?”

“I am a little tired,” he admits.

A nurse appears at the doorway, and together she and Eliza coax him back toward the bed, redirecting, calming, grounding him.It’s natural to Eliza, like this is a language she knows how to speak.She almost appears more fluent in the ways of the nurse than the nurse herself.

Grizz, on the other hand, doesn’t move.His face is devoid of any expression as Eliza helps to fluff her dad’s pillow and pours a cup of water for him to sip on.

Abruptly, Grizz pivots and walks out of the room without a word, footsteps heavy against the linoleum.

And I know without needing to look that he’s reached his limit.

Eliza and I exchange a look and she nods toward the door, a silent request that I follow him.

He’s already halfway down the hall when I catch up, his strides long and angry.I call his name once, but he doesn’t stop until we’re outside the unit, the door swinging shut behind us with a muted click.

“Grizz.”He turns then, his body coiled, eyes too bright, putting me on edge.I step closer.“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay,” he growls.“What a fucking farce!”