Page 16 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

“I’ll take a rum and coke, gorgeous.”

Landon’s voice cut through the noisy bar and slithered into my ears, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

“I have to um… help that person first,” I lied, my voice steady despite the shake building in my nerves.

I turned away quickly, scanning the far side of the bar for any excuse to put space between us. I spotted a woman lingering near the taps, her expectant gaze fixed on me. Whether she truly needed something or not didn’t matter—she became my lifeline.

With purposeful strides, I crossed to the other end of the bar, giving myself precious seconds to calm the tremor in my hands.

She asked for a draft, and I was grateful for the easy order, since my mind had lost the ability to mix a proper drink.

As I filled the woman’s beer, I let my eyes sweep across the room, searching for Devyn.

She was weaving through the crowd, her tray expertly balanced as she navigated the chaos of a packed Saturday night crowd. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since we walked through the doors together, but knowing she was here grounded me slightly.

Drink delivered—full of foam due to my distracted brain—my reprieve ran out. My feet dragged reluctantly as I returned to Landon.

I planted my hands on the bar in front of him, keeping a deliberate distance.

“You know, Theresa is working tomorrow night,” I said tightly, forcing my lips into a smile that felt more like a grimace. “You should come back then. I’m sure she’d gladly service you. ”

“I don’t want Theresa.”

He leaned in, his voice low, his steel blue eyes locking onto mine with a sickly-sweet intensity. “I want you.”

My lip snarled instinctively.

“When are you going to forgive me and come home?”

Landon’s voice was soft, almost pleading, as he reached for my hand.

I yanked it away, crossing my arms over my chest like a protective barrier.

Home .

The word stung more than it should have.

Not because I thought of the builder-grade, cookie-cutter ranch in the new subdivision outside of town—the one Landon asked me to move into with him. I had tried to make it feel like my own by decorating it and pouring myself into it. But it was never truly mine.

No, when I thought of home, it was the house I grew up in—the one my parents owned. The one I lost years ago, thanks to Landon's clever plan to help me "get out of debt quickly."

His parents were quick to agree that it was the best time to sell, and my sister Penny couldn't wait to cross one more responsibility off her list—she was tired of worrying about insurance and taxes.

I poured Landon’s drink, my hand trembling just enough to make me furious with myself for allowing him to crawl under my skin.

Slamming the glass on the bar between us, I felt the weight of all my frustrations coming down with it.

“You have to stop texting me, Landon. I told you I don’t want the ring back. I don’t want anything back.” My voice shook despite my effort to sound strong.

Landon smirked, tilting his head in that familiar, condescending way that always made me feel two inches tall. “Babe, don’t be dramatic.”

Before I could muster a response, Devyn appeared behind the bar, carrying an empty water cup.

She bumped her hip against mine in greeting, followed my line of sight, and sighed—a heavy, impatient sound that carried her anger loudly over the chorus of patrons.

“Look what the cat barfed up.” Her tone was sharp enough to cut steel .

She set the cup on the counter and planted one hand on her hip, fixing Landon with a withering glare.

Landon took a slow sip of his drink as though her insult didn’t faze him. “Good to see you too, Devyn.”

Devyn’s eyes flicked to me. Her expression shifted, softening for a brief moment before hardening into fury.

I could see it in her face—she’d caught the helpless, terrified look I couldn’t hide, no matter how much I wanted to. My emotions were an open book, painfully easy for anyone, especially my friends, to read.

She stepped closer to the bar, leaning in so she was practically nose-to-nose with Landon. Her voice was low but loaded with venom. “Landon, what don’t you get? It is so over. Stop trying. You look pathetic.”

His smirk widened. “I see you’re still too bossy to let Sophia speak for herself.”

Devyn let out a short laugh—cold and humorless. “I’m just saying what she’s too scared to say herself. You cheated. You manipulated. You were never good enough for her. Trust that she realizes that now.”

My heart pounded as I stood in silence, torn between gratitude for Devyn’s boldness and shame for needing her to defend me.

I wasn’t scared. I felt like I had been very clear with Landon after walking out of his life completely.

Landon’s smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “This doesn’t even concern you, Devyn.”

“Oh, but it does. Because I’m not gonna sit here and watch you try to worm your way back into her life. She’s done with you, Landon.”

Landon slammed a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, leaving it alongside his half-sipped cocktail.

“We’ll talk when your guard dog isn’t around to yip at me.” He yanked on his jacket and turned to leave.

I watched him retreat, my nerves settling now that I wasn’t held by the scrutiny of his stare.

“Don’t let him goad you like that, Soph,” Devyn scolded as she picked up the water she had come to refill. “You need to stand up for yourself. ”

I wanted to say something—to tell her I can’t very well stand up for myself when she doesn’t let me. But the words stuck in my throat, blocked by years of conditioning that told me not to make waves, not to upset people.

A part of me wondered if I even could tell Landon off. Like Penny said, I was a doormat. Doormats don’t confront you—they lie there, welcoming you in and let you stomp all over them.

I stared down at the twenty, my fists curling at my sides.

One day, I promised myself. One day, I’ll stand my ground. One day, I wouldn't need to rely on my friends to hold up my frail sensibilities.

One day—but today wasn’t that day.