Ryder
I sat alone in my office that evening, the door closed, a stack of club business I'd been putting off for days spread across my desk without my attention actually landing on any of it. My mind kept drifting instead to Zoe, to the conversation at the overlook, to the careful, deliberate way I'd let myself want something I had no business wanting given everything currently threatening this club.
My father used to say a president's first loyalty was to the club, always, before anything else. Before family, before personal happiness, before anything that might compromise the clear-headed judgment this life demanded. I'd built my entire identity around that principle since the day I took over the patch, and it had served me well enough, kept me sharp, kept the club steady through worse
