The evening air was warm, the kind of Florida night where the porch felt like a stage.
Randy sat in his favorite chair, laptop balanced on his knees, fingers moving across the keys as he worked on Raider Nation.
From the open window behind him, soft music floated out — a soundtrack to his focus.
Three college girls wandered over, curious smiles on their faces.
“Hey, Randy, what are you working on?” one asked, leaning against the porch rail.
Randy looked up, grinning.
“Raider Nation. It’s more than football — it’s family.”
The girls laughed, intrigued.
They asked questions, teased him about his focus, and soon the porch was filled with laughter and easy conversation.
Randy leaned back, relaxed, enjoying the company, his cup resting beside him.
Meanwhile, Steph was walking across the UF campus, her cheer bag slung over her shoulder.
She had just finished volunteering at the community center, teaching young girls cheer routines and encouraging them to believe in themselves.
Her steps were tired but proud — she loved giving back.
As she approached the house, Steph slowed.
Her eyes caught the porch.
There was Randy.
Her Randy.
Sitting in his favorite chair, laptop open, laughing with three college girls.
The laughter stung.
Randy noticed her instantly.
He stood, closing his laptop, smile still on his face.
“Steph!” he called, moving toward her, trying to lean in for a kiss.
But Steph’s face was set.
She brushed past him, opened the front door, and slammed it shut behind her.
The porch fell silent.
Randy turned back to the girls, his smile fading.
“I’ve got to go,” he said quietly.
He closed his laptop, grabbed his cup, and gave a quick wave before stepping inside.