Page 51 of Undone

“Everyone learns in their own time. What matters is that you’re getting better every day.”

I leaned forward slightly. “Remember that drawing you made for me last week? It was amazing—better than what I could have done.”

A small smile formed on her face. “Yeah, I do love drawing.”

“And that’s your special talent,” I continued. “Some kids are great at reading, others are great at math, and you—you’re fantastic at art. Everyone has something that makes them unique. Just because reading might be a bit harder right now doesn’t mean you’re any less smart or talented than anyone else.”

She paused, her eyes thoughtful as she processed that. Finally, she nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “I guess I never thought of it like that. Thanks, Noah.” Then, without warning, she hugged me.

After a few more stories, I glanced at the clock, smiling when I realized we’d already gone over our scheduled time. “Well… we are all done for today. You did amazing,” I said, gathering all our materials from the evening.

She surprised me with another quick hug. “See you next week?”

“Of course,” I replied.

I turned to leave, but as I stepped toward the door, I noticed Dorian sitting at his small dining table, looking up from something in his hands.

“Got a minute?” he asked, his tone casual but with an edge.

“Sure.”

We hadn’t talked much over the past few weeks—just a few messages about Gracie, making sure the tutoring sessions were set. After he admitted he wanted to kiss me—and how much I wanted it too, despite knowing it was a bad idea—I was more than okay with the distance.

Gracie burst into the room. “Hi, Daddy! Can I watch a movie now that I’m all done with my reading?”

“Of course. Remote’s on the coffee table, G,” Dorian answered, not even looking up.

“Bye, Noah!”

She dashed out, already halfway into the other room before I could respond.

“What’s up?” I asked, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

His concern always brought out a certain intensity in his eyes. “How’s she doing?” he asked, nodding toward Gracie, who was sitting close by, now watching a movie but still out of earshot.

“She’s progressing every session,” I replied, as I watched her. “Honestly, she’s really smart. I think she just might learn a little differently than what most consider the conventional way.”

Dorian’s brow furrowed, his dark eyes locking with mine in a way. “What do you mean?”

His tone wasn’t defensive, just curious, like he was trying to piece it together. He always wanted the best for Gracie. It was one of the things I admired most about him—his quiet but unwavering commitment to the people he loved.

“Well,” I started, shifting slightly in my seat, our knees brushing lightly under the table, the small contact sending a jolt up my leg. “Some kids don’t respond as well to the traditional phonics-first method of learning to read—you know, where they sound out every letter and try to blend them. Gracie seems to rely more on patterns and whole words. She’s more visual. She remembers how words look as a whole, kind of like she’s memorizing pictures instead of sounding things out one letter at a time.”

I paused, trying to explain it in a way that wouldn’t feel too teacher-like.

“It’s like… some people learn best by listening, some by doing. Gracie? She seems to connect with things she can visualize. So instead of drilling her on the alphabet, I’ve been using more visual aids—pictures with words, context clues, and repeating those visuals until it clicks. It’s not about breaking down every word but seeing the word and understanding its meaning in one glance.”

Dorian nodded slowly. His gaze moved to Gracie before shifting back to me. “So, she just learns a little differently?”

“Exactly,” I said. “She’s just as capable as any other kid, but her brain works differently in a way that the classroom may not cater to. Once we figure out her rhythm, she’ll take off. We just need to teach her in a way that makes sense to her, not force her into a box that doesn’t fit.”

“Okay, got it.” He cleared his throat, but worry was still etched into his features.

“You’re a good dad. You’re doing all the right things by letting her learn at her own pace,” I said.

His eyes met mine, an unspoken understanding passing between us before he shifted back to his usual composed self. “Thanks. That… it means a lot.”

“Only speaking the truth,” I said, standing from the table. “I’m going to head out.”

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