Page 22 of Griffin

The nurse glanced up from her station, giving me a warm smile. “Can I help you, dear?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m looking for my friend. I think he just got here? Tall guy, dark blond hair... Griffin?”

Her face lit up with recognition. “Oh! Yes, I know who you mean.” She paused, giving me an expectant look.

I hesitated, the lie sitting uncomfortably in my throat. “I—uh—just need to pass something along to him. It’s a... personal thing.” It sounded weak, but I pushed through, offering a half-smile as her gaze lingered.

She raised an eyebrow, then nodded, motioning down the hallway. “Alright, but he’s with his father right now, so it’d be best to wait outside the room. He’s resting, so let’s keep it quiet, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Thank you,” I murmured, swallowing the lump in my throat.

The lie left a strange taste in my mouth, but she didn’t question it.

With a polite nod, she returned to her work, and I followed her directions, guilt tugging at me with every step.

When I reached the room she’d pointed to, I stopped just outside the door.

Through the narrow window, I spotted Griffin seated beside his dad’s hospital bed.

He leaned forward, carefully adjusting the blanket around his father’s shoulders before reaching down to hold his hand.

His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against the man’s knuckles.

The harsh set of Griffin’s jaw was gone, replaced with a softness I hadn’t seen before—a quiet tenderness that felt like it belonged to a different side of him.

Watching him like this, something clicked. For Griffin, family wasn’t just a word; it was everything.

The bar wasn’t just a job—it was a piece of the life he’d built with his father, something he was holding onto with everything he had.

And I’d nearly wrecked that, all because I couldn’t handle my own insecurities.

A heavy pang settled in my chest as I realized I owed him more than just an apology.

I leaned my forehead against the cool wall beside the door, my breath unsteady.

Griffin didn’t need me barging in right now, interrupting this moment. Any rushed apology I could offer would only be for my benefit, not his.

The way he looked at his dad—steady, grounded—was something I couldn’t touch, something far beyond my understanding.

Silently, I slipped back from the door and made my way down the hall, my footsteps quiet against the tile floor.

A cold breeze swept in as I stepped outside, hitting me like a jolt of reality I hadn’t been ready for.

Maybe I’d been wrong about this job—or my reasons for wanting to leave.

Watching Griffin with his dad had struck something raw in me.

The guy had a whole world beyond his work, people he showed up for no matter how hard or messy things got.

It was a world so different from mine—a life made up of fans and followers who thought they knew me and a few friends who mostly talked in terms of my “brand.”

A flicker of jealousy caught me off guard. Griffin had something real to hold onto.

I, on the other hand, had been drifting from one stream to the next, one convention after another, barely trusting anyone and keeping walls up between myself and whatever people wanted from me.

Now here I was, fumbling through his life like a careless tourist, disrupting the things that mattered to him.

But maybe this place—the bar, the job—was different. It wasn’t just about me for once.

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