Page 6 of Undone

Okay, so he’s the one with the daughter.

“Gracie, right?” While Dotty mentioned her brothers occasionally, she bragged about Gracie constantly and how much she loved her niece.

Dorian’s smile was a little lopsided, tugging at his right cheek and revealing a dimple. “Yeah, Gracie. She’s a spitfire.”

“I’ve heard a few stories that would definitely back that up.” I paused for a moment and moved to lean against the kitchen island, letting the cool granite cool my forearms.

“You can stay as long as you need. I’ll be around most of the time, but my boyfriend’s taking me out tomorrow, so you’ll be on your own then.”

“Well, thanks for letting me crash here.”

I gave him a small smile. “No worries. Feel free to help yourself to anything.”

“Thanks, Noah. I’ll get out of your way.” He pointed down the hall. “Dotty’s room is…” His tone trailed off in a question.

“First door on the left. Second door is the bathroom. My room is on the right,” I said.

He nodded and walked across the living room, his steps purposeful as he approached the sofa and wooden coffee table, stacked with magazines and my laptop. He paused in front of a photo on the wall, one of Dotty and me from our freshman year of college.

His eyes met mine. “Thank you.”

I scrunched my nose in confusion, tilting my head.

He peered back at the picture. “For being there for her. She needed someone then,” he said, his eyes not meeting mine again.

“I did too.” I smiled as images of our friendship crept through my mind.

He glanced back to me and that damned dimple slowly made its appearance. He nodded and then pointed to the room. “I’m going to get settled in.”

“Yeah, of course.”

He made his way to Dotty’s room, closing the door behind him with a small click.

I shook my head, still trying to make sense of that exchange. Rounding the couch, I sank into the cushions, pulling my phone from my pocket. A new notification lit up the screen, and I saw John responded to my text.

John

Hopping on a red-eye home now. See you tomorrow.

A knot formed in my stomach as I stared at his message. John and I met during our senior year at a private boarding school. He’d been there since elementary, while I was transferred from a public school to the city’s most prestigious institution. My mom hoped it would steer me toward becoming a lawyer, like her, instead of a teacher, which was my true aspiration.

Despite my skepticism about changing schools at fifteen, it did lead me to meet John.

From the first day, I was drawn to him. It wasn’t just the effortless way he commanded attention; it was something deeper. John didn’t see people through the lens of status or image. He was genuinely interested in everyone, asking questions and listening as if the details of a person’s life truly mattered.

Even as a teenager, he was charming and confident, though a bit arrogant at times. I liked how he listened when I spoke, how he remembered the small things. He wasn’t trying to impress me or win me over—he simply appreciated who I was, not what I could offer him. That’s what drew me in. The attention he gave me was unlike anyone else’s—it was real. For the first time, I didn’t feel like another face in the crowd. I felt seen.

Growing up, I sometimes felt torn between two worlds. My mom, a strong woman of color, instilled pride in my heritage and constantly reminded me of my worth. But my biological father, from whom I inherited some of my lighter features, was never a part of my life. That mix of identities often left me uncertain of where I belonged.

But with John, none of that mattered. He never seemed to care about any of it. He never treated me like I was a puzzle to be figured out, or like I didn’t belong. After a few months of friendship, he surprised me by asking me to prom. It wasn’t just about the gesture. It was the fact that he saw me, and in that moment, he saw all of me—my complexities, my insecurities, and the parts of me I hadn’t always been sure about.

And of course, I said yes—who could refusetheJohn Cunningham?

We faced our share of challenges over the years—dating on and off through separate colleges and our careers. But when John moved back to Seattle a little over a year ago, everything changed. My dad helped John secure a position at the same tech company where he worked in the city, and we finally decided to commit to a relationship.

I hoped a new chapter would bring stability. I loved seeing how much my father and John respected each other. After he took him under his wing, their bond grew even stronger, both professionally and personally. It seemed like everything was falling into place.

Our relationship hadn’t been perfect. Our demanding schedules often left little room for us—his filled with constant travel and long hours, mine consumed by the grind of being an overworked, underpaid public school teacher. Yet, somehow, we made it work.

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