Page 72 of Grizz

I close my eyes, pressing my free hand into my thigh.I’m angry at this disease that’s making things so hard for Eliza.“I should’ve stopped him,” she continues, the words tumbling faster now, urgency bleeding into guilt.“I should’ve been in the kitchen.I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Eliza,” I interrupt gently but firmly.“Hey.Stop.”

She doesn’t.“I’m failing him, Grizz,” she whispers, her voice breaking completely now.“I’m failing.”

That’s the part that guts me and I wish I were the one there dealing with this shit show rather than her.

“It’s time to move him to a facility,” she says, the confession spilling out.“After today, I can’t wait anymore,” she continues, exhaling shakily.The sound is raw and exhausted.“I have to move him.I have to.”

I rush to assure her, although I know it probably sounds hollow.“Eliza… you’ve done your very best.I know that.”

“He trusted me to take care of him,” she says.“And I can’t even protect him from himself.”Her voice drops to a whisper, the kind that carries shame with it.“Putting him in a facility feels like giving up.Please tell me I’m not a terrible daughter.”

I know the truth of the man our father was.I know the damage he did, the fear he wielded like discipline, the love he never learned how to give.And I also know this, with absolute clarity, Eliza has given everything and more.

While I’m off living my best life, she took him in.For years, she’s been the one managing all the doctors and dealing with the appointments and the medications and the emergencies.She absorbed the emotional fallout so I could keep skating, keep playing, keep pretending money was a sufficient form of contribution.

She isn’t failing.She’s drowning.

“El,” I say, my voice rough but steady, “listen to me.”She goes quiet, but I hear her sniffling, fighting back her emotions.“You are not a terrible daughter.You’re doing the hardest thing there is—loving someone who can’t be safe anymore.”

I hear her sniffle as she tries to pull herself together.She’s been researching for weeks the best facilities available and I’ve been wanting her to pull the trigger on it, but she’s been hesitating.While I hate that my father got hurt, this was the catalyst that was needed.

“You can’t do this alone,” I add.“You were never supposed to.”

“I just feel like I’m abandoning him,” she says softly.

“You’re not,” I say without hesitation.“You’re choosing him.Even when it hurts.”

There’s a long silence on the line.

“Let me get back to my apartment,” I tell her.“Give me about an hour.I’ll call you back, and we’ll go through everything together.Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you too.”

The call ends, but I stay there, phone still pressed to my ear, unable to fully accept what I’ve just heard.

Tanner breaks the silence.

“What happened, man?”

“My dad,” I say.“He started a small kitchen fire and burned his hand.Eliza’s been holding everything together and now she can’t anymore.”

Tanner’s face is one of sincere concern.“Dude… I’m sorry.”

“We have to put him in a facility,” I continue.

He exhales slowly, eyes darkening.“Jesus.”

“I have to go home,” I say.“Likehomehome.”

“Go to her,” he says.“She needs you.”Then, he adds, “And you need this too.Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

I swallow hard.“Yeah.I know.”