Page 52 of Undone

He smiled, his stupid dimple popping out and making my heart do a little pitter-patter. “Have a good night. Thank you… for everything.”

“Of course,” I said, shutting the door behind me and taking in the quiet of the night.

Dorian and Gracie had this way of making everything feel effortless, like it all just fit together perfectly. It was in the little things—Gracie’s bright smile when she looked at her dad, the way he always made her his priority, no matter what else was happening. The unspoken understanding between them, the ease in which they moved through life together. It was love in its purest form—steady, unwavering, and completely natural.

That warmth lingered as I slid into the car, settling deep in my chest as I turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, but my mind stayed with them—the quiet bond they shared, the kind of love that didn’t need words. It stayed with me, even as I drove away.

NINETEEN

Dorian - August

INVISIBLE STRING - TAYLOR SWIFT

The bellabove the wooden door creaked as I stepped into The Pine Ridge Lodge, and nostalgia washed over me. The rustic charm was exactly how I remembered it—log beams overhead, a crackling stone fireplace in the corner.

The walls were filled with framed pictures of locals, each one adding to The Lodge’s sense of history. It felt like stepping back in time.

I glanced around, nodding at a couple of familiar faces tucked into the corner booths. Woodstone had always been a place where everyone knew everyone, and The Pine Ridge Lodge was one of the places at the heart of it all.

Friday nights here were about as lively as it got—families gathering after football games, locals grabbing dinner after a long day, the kind of crowd that felt like home.

Every now and then, my dad would forego cooking, and we’d get takeout for Sunday family dinner instead. With school starting soon, it seemed like the perfect time to do so.

“You ever think about how long this place has been here?” Sawyer asked, glancing around as we approached the counter.

Colt shook his head. “No.”

I let out a laugh. “Look, Sawyer.” I pointed to his picture on display. “You need to update this. That thing’s got to be over ten years old.”

He shifted his gaze to the picture. “Yup, that was my rookie year in the NFL. Damn, I miss those days.”

“What, when you weren’t old as fuck?” Colt said, deadpan.

“No, back when I had good knees,” Sawyer shot back.

“Tough getting old, huh?” I smirked.

Sawyer gave me a knowing look. “You’re right behind me, brother.”

“Yeah, but I’m not getting tackled for a living, so I’ll be alright,” I replied.

Colt stifled a grin, glancing at Sawyer. “Once you hit mid-thirties, it’s all downhill, regardless.”

We reached the counter, where Mary Whitmore, one of the owners, greeted us with a wide smile. “Your order’s almost ready, boys,” she said, her tone warm and familiar.

“How’s your mare holding up?” I asked, thinking back to the last time I’d been at their farm to see she was recovering nicely.

“She’s doing great. Thanks for askin’,” she said, smiling up at me.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Oh, the golden boy vet, are ya? Hey, Mary, did you know my team is predicted to go to the Super Bowl this year?” Sawyer smiled, teasingly taking over the moment.

“I’ll be watching. Although I did see that sack in the last game. Isn’t it your job as a lineman to protect your quarterback?” she teased him right back, putting him in his place.

“I wasn’t on my game that day. Give me some slack. It’s still preseason.”

“Super Bowl winners don’t get slack,” she replied, the corners of her mouth lifting.

---