Page 72 of Unbearable

He pulled me back into his arms, and I ignored the alarms sounding off in my head, saying he was too close. I didn’t care. I needed him. We sat there for several minutes before his phone buzzed on the counter.

He stood up to grab it. Extending a hand for me, he said, “You good? Colt’s here.”

“Yeah, I’m good now.” He helped me up, making sure I was steady, and led us out of the bathroom. Our footsteps pattered against the cold floor, mirroring my anxious heartbeat.

Colt came into view and extended his arms for me. “Love you, Dotty.”

“Love you too.” He reluctantly let go of me and grabbed the note, reading it before his fingers rubbed his temple.

“I’ve been getting approval for extra man hours for your case. This may be the push we need.” I heard the doorbell ring and excused myself to get it, letting Trent and Colt discuss the case further.

Keeping it mostly out of my mind helped keep me sane in this process. Grabbing the bowl of candy, I walked over to the door, opening it to find Dorian and Gracie. Gracie lunged herself into my arms, princess costume and all.

“Auntie! I missed you!” she said.

“Hi, sweet girl. I missed you too. Don’t you look lovely!”

“Hey, Dotty.” Dorian pulled me into his side. “Let’s leave this outside for the night.” He grabbed the candy bowl from me. “It’s starting to die down out here anyway.”

“But what about me, Daddy? Don’t I get some candy?”

“How could I forget? Grab a couple pieces.” He smiled at his daughter.

She squealed, picking out a few pieces of candy, dropping them into her bucket.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a glow over the porch. I followed Gracie and Dorian inside, preparing myself for the conversation.

“Hey, Gracie, why don’t you go say hi to your uncles and then maybe go put something on the TV for a little bit?”

“TV this late? Wow, Halloween really is the best holiday!” She ran into the kitchen, where Trent and Colt sat at the dining table.

“Uncle Trent, hi. Uncle Colt, hi. Love you!” She gave them both a quick hug and ran back into the living room.

Colt looked up at Dorian, confused. “I told her shecould watch TV after she said hi. Looks like she made that as brief as possible.” He laughed.

“Must be all the candy.” Colt chuckled.

“So, how bad is it?” Dorian asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Colt handed over the note. Dorian’s face darkened with anger as he read it. “I don’t even know what to say to this.” He held up the note. “What the hell is wrong with this guy? Any leads?” He turned to Colt, his tone urgent.

“No. We’ve hit dead ends so far, but I’m pushing for more resources on the case,” Colt replied grimly.

“Let’s hope it pays off,” Dorian muttered, frustration evident in his voice. I tuned out the rest of their conversation, feeling numb and distant.

The following weeks blurred together in a relentless whirlwind of work, avoiding Trent at every possible moment and the unyielding demands of cabin renovations. Each day seemed to blend into the next, marked by early mornings at my laptop, navigating spreadsheets and emails, and late evenings spent covered in sawdust and stain.

The once vibrant hues of autumn began to fade into the muted tones of impending winter as the November chill settled in, hinting at the approach of snow. Thanksgiving quickly approaching felt like a beacon of warmth and familiarity. It would be my first big holiday in Woodstone with my family in years. The thought of gathering around the table with my father, brothers, and Gracie filled me with a sense of belonging that I hadn’t realized I was missing in the hustle of city life.

Amid the chaos of work and renovations, the anticipation of Thanksgiving provided a temporary respite. Yet, beneath the surface, a sense of unease lingered. The threat of my anonymous admirer remained palpable, a persistent undercurrent that tempered any semblance of normalcy. I clung to the hope that the holiday would bring a sense of security and joy, anchoring me firmly in the present.

As the days shortened and the nights grew colder, the cabin renovations proved to be difficult. Every spare moment was devoted to improving the space, whether it was installing new fixtures or meticulously sanding and staining the hardwood floors.

Unfortunately, I still had to have someone with me at all times. When neither Colt nor Dorian could come with me to the cabin, Trent stepped in. Having an extra set of hands was helpful. We typically divided tasks and worked in different rooms. Despite the strain on my savings, the cabin was beginning to take shape.

I decided to tackle sanding and staining the hardwood floors myself, thinking it would be straightforward.

It wasn’t. It was a big pain in my ass.

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