Page 96 of From the Wreckage

Everett

The lake is calm this morning, glassy under the rising sun. Mist curls along the water’s edge, and the smell of wet earth mixes with the faint tang of bait.

Grayson hands me a rod, his expression already serious, like fishing is a damn mission. I take it, settling onto the edge of the dock beside him.

“Patience,” he mutters, casting his line as smooth as muscle memory. “That’s the key.”

I raise a brow. “Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

“No shit.” His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t look over. “You love my daughter like you fish, you’re gonna scare her off. She’s not a prize to snatch up fast. She’s a catch you wait for. Gentle. Steady.”

I grip the rod, line dangling in the still water. My throat tightens, but I keep my voice even. “She’s worth the wait. I can be gentle and steady for her.”

He finally glances at me, observing me. After a beat, he nods once, like that’s enough.

Then he surprises me with his next words. Words that nearly break me.

When he’s finished, I look over my shoulder. Bri is sitting outside at the patio table. She’s nervous, her words stuttering at first as she does an online therapy appointment. I can’t make out every word, but I hear the tremble, then the steadiness building beneath it. She’s fighting for herself.

Pride swells in my chest, raw and fierce.

Grayson reels in a little slack, the corner of his mouth curving. “Tough kid. Gets that from her old man.”

I snort. “Old man, huh? I’d describe you more as a stubborn bastard.”

His laugh is low, rough, and real, carrying along the breeze.

Time drifts by in silence, broken only by water lapping at the dock and the occasional tug on a line. For a while, it feels like peace.

When Bri’s voice finally goes quiet, the cabin door creaks open. I turn, watching as she carries her laptop inside.

A few minutes later, she walks toward us, sunlight catching in her hair. Her sunflower necklace glints at her collarbone, and her smile is genuine. She hasn’t healed, but she’s working on it.

My chest damn near bursts.

Grayson sees her too, pride softening the hard edges of his face.

She steps onto the dock, moving toward us. I set my rod aside and reach out a hand, pulling her into the space between us.

For one fleeting moment, it’s all here—peace, hope, and family. The kind of picture you want to frame in your mind and never let fade.