Page 34 of Undone

Dotty suggested taking me to her cabin for dinner, but I waved it off, urging her to spend time with Trent instead. After a full day of unpacking, I was craving some alone time.

Crouching down to give Walker a scratch behind the ears, I whispered, “I think I like our new home, buddy.”

His ears perked up, and he nudged his head into my hand, as if he agreed.

TWELVE

Dorian - July

FADED - ALAN WALKER

With the summerdays stretching longer, my workdays seemed to follow suit, the hours slipping away as I juggled the constant demands of the clinic. Woodstone Falls might be small, but the need for a local vet was not. Between the ranches, the farms, and the families with pets, there was always something that needed my attention, whether it was a sick calf, a dog in need of vaccinations, or the countless checkups that seemed to line up without pause.

I was starting to wonder if it was time to bring on more staff. The clinic was growing, and my schedule was tighter than ever. I found myself squeezing in moments with Gracie wherever I could, sometimes stealing a few extra minutes in the morning before work or tucking her into bed at night. But at the end of the day, no matter how stretched I felt, she was always my priority.

Becoming a father was not part of my plan at twenty-three. Becoming a single father sure as hell wasn’t.

But when Hallie passed away giving birth to Gracie, everything changed. I was completely unprepared for the magnitude of responsibility that suddenly rested on my shoulders. And yet, there I was. The sole person responsible for a tiny human, navigating a life I never imagined. There wasn’t a manual for this. No one tells you how to hold everything together when you’re grieving.

But Gracie and I, we figured it out. Slowly, at first, but we did.

We grew up together, in a way. I had to face the hard realities of parenting much sooner than I ever expected, but there was something raw and fulfilling about it. Life wasn’t always glamorous. It was often messy, tiring, and overwhelming, but it was ours.

Hallie’s death taught me a lot—lessons no one could ever prepare you for.

How to balance life with a newborn, how to survive on little sleep, and even how to explain to a five-year-old that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t adjust for inflation.

But it was the little things, the everyday moments, that kept me going.

I had family, I had a community that had supported me from the beginning, but at the end of the day, Gracie depended on me. Only me. And I would carry that responsibility without hesitation, no matter the cost, because she was mine, and I was hers.

So, I kept my world small. Between my daughter, my family, and my work, there wasn’t room for much else, and that felt safer.

Easier.

The cool air hit me as I stepped outside after a long day at the clinic. My phone buzzed in my pocket, Trent’s name lighting up the screen.

Trent

Hey, you got a minute to swing by the cabin after work?

Me

Sure. What’s up?

Trent

Just get over here, jackass.

Me

Fine.

As I walked up to the cabin, curiosity nudged its way to the forefront of my mind. Dotty had done more than just fix the place up—she’d infused it with a piece of herself. The cabin still had its old bones, the same weathered wood and wrap-around porch I remembered, but now it felt… different. Alive, in a way I hadn’t expected.

The white porch swing, still hanging there, unchanged, like it had been in place for years. The scent of pine filled the air, and for a brief moment, I let it take me back. Back to summers that never seemed to end, when everything was a little simpler.

I spotted Colt’s SUV parked in the driveway and made my way inside. The cabin had a familiar coziness, with exposed wooden beams stretching across the ceiling. The walls were lined with family photos—some old, some faded—each one capturing moments of our childhood, holidays, and those long-forgotten summers.

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