Page 19 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

“What are you doing here, Landon?” I stood in the doorway of my apartment, my arms pebbling in the cool evening air. I wasn’t about to invite him in, no matter how much my parents had raised me always to be polite.

He wasn’t entitled to that anymore.

“I came bearing gifts,” he said with a soft, innocent smile I knew better than to trust.

We stood in tense silence, his arms outstretched, flowers and a large white box dangling from his hands.

After a long beat, he let his arms fall to his sides. The smile faltered, his features contorting into a flash of anger that made my stomach tighten.

It was gone as quickly as it had appeared—Landon swiftly masking it with a calm, patient expression, but I saw it.

Looking back, I think I always saw it—I just wanted to deny it. The monster that prowled just beneath the surface, ready to strike when he didn’t get what he wanted.

I channeled my inner Devyn and straightened, forcing myself to stand tall—though Landon had a couple of inches on me—my resolve settled like steel in my chest. “I’ll ask again, what are you doing here, Landon?”

Though I felt like I already knew the answer.

He wanted what people like him always wanted from people like me—to control me, to make me feel small.

Landon had broken me down slowly when we were together, hurting me in ways that were almost invisible at first—backhanded comments, little jabs that didn’t seem to matter as they landed .

Over time, they stacked up, heavy enough to crush me. They dug into my confidence, planting seeds of doubt until I couldn’t even recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.

“I just wanted to give you these and to talk.” His tone was soft, inviting, deceivingly dangerous— like a blue-ringed octopus.

I stared at him, my arms crossed, my expression unwavering. “You can leave, Landon. I don’t want your gifts.” My voice was surprisingly firm as I stepped back, pushing the door closed on him.

But his foot shot out, jamming between the thin wood door and the frame before I could shut him outside.

My heart thudded as I tried to push back, but with a casual strength I was no match for, he shoved the door open with his broad shoulder, sending me stumbling backward into my apartment.

“You need to leave, Landon,” I hissed, but the words felt weak.

He stalked inside, kicking the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the small space.

In an instant, it was just the two of us, standing in the quiet tension of the room, alone. The weight of it pressed in, suffocating.

Landon had never physically hurt me. He had always kept that line unbroken, knowing his power over me didn’t need force to be felt. It was in the words, the insults, the manipulations. But even now, with no raised fist, something dangerous was hovering between us.

“Will you please just listen to me, babe?” he asked, his words polite, but heavy with malice as they passed through his clenched teeth.

“Out with it. So you can leave.” I crossed my arms, the weight of them across my chest offering a small sense of control.

It was clear from the tightness in his jaw that he expected a softer version of me.

“I came to make sure you follow through with your obligations.” His voice was low, almost too calm, too practiced.

“What obligations?” I spat, shaking my head. “I thought I made it clear that any obligations I had to you were over the second I threw that ring at your head.”

“Not obligations to me. Obligations to my parents.” He placed the flowers on my coffee table before handing me the large white box .

Reluctantly, I took it from him, the weight of the box surprising me.

A large gold bow gleamed on top, and a small envelope was taped to the front.

My fingers trembled slightly as I walked over to the kitchen bar and set the box down. My eyes continuously flicked to Landon, ensuring he stayed put, as I peeled off the envelope and opened it.

The contents inside made my stomach churn. A cold sweat spread across my skin as the reminder hit me.

Before everything—the heartbreak, the betrayal—I had been a part of Landon’s life in a way that felt like a future, a certainty.

His mother, Alicia, had bought tickets to a gala in New York, including plane tickets for both of us.

I had excitedly agreed to go, thinking it was just another step in the life we were building together.

I had forgotten entirely—until now.

The tickets felt like lead in my hand, along with the note from Alicia asking me to come despite everything that had transpired between Landon and me.

I doubted Landon had told her the real story of what happened between us. Even if he had, I knew his parents would never believe their golden child could do anything wrong.

“Alicia would be crushed if you didn’t come,” Landon added, his voice fully loaded with both contrition and intimidation.

Alicia—as Landon informally referred to her. Not Mom . Cold. Detached. Just like how he called his father Perry .

But still, the mention of her gave me pause—Alicia was not the type of woman you said no to.

The Norwood family, despite being in Misty Springs for only a short while, had branded this town with their iron will.

When I worked for them, I had watched as their influence seeped into every corner, their power more insidious than overt.

Reputations crumbled in their wake. Whispers turned into storms that stripped people of their standing, their businesses, and their livelihoods. One wrong move, one misstep against them, and suddenly, you weren’t just an outsider—you were nothing.

It was part of why I found my diplomatic—some might say doormat—approach to handling our breakup necessary. I never wanted to be in his family’s crosshairs, and even more so, I worried about my friends .

Norwood Realty owned the space Lana rented for her coffee shop. They had just purchased the building that housed Devyn’s parents’ grocery store. And Cassie and Brent’s family? Chase Construction practically survived on Norwood-funded projects.

One wrong step, one reason to turn on me—on us—and everything my friends had built could come crashing down.

Landon seemed to notice my internal deliberation and used it as an opening. “You told her you’d come, remember? After all, you were supposed to be part of the family.”

I hated the way he baited me—and hated the way it was working.

“And whose fault is it that I’m no longer going to be a part of the family, Landon?”

He took two bounding strides toward me, my body recoiling instinctively. “I’ve been trying to make it up to you. You’re the one being stubborn!”

I wasn’t properly equipped with the fight response. I couldn’t yell, scream, or even find it in myself to lash out.

Instead, I shut down—my mind and body locked up tight.

Landon stepped back, his hands raised in a wavering retreat. “Look, babe, you’re mad at me. I get it. But please, be reasonable.”

I knew I wasn’t being unreasonable . He was the one who destroyed us—not me. But I also knew how his brain worked and how fragile his mother’s ego was.

I knew it would be seen as an uneven scale if I skipped out on this. He’d hold this over me and use it as a way to try to manipulate me into believing I owed him, and she’d take it as a personal slight against her.

Perhaps there was a way I could make this work to my advantage.

“If I go, this has to be it. I owe you and your family nothing . You have to agree to stop trying to get me back. This makes us completely over.”

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing at me once more. He shook his head back and forth, inhaling deeply.

“The flight leaves this Saturday. I’ll pick you up at one. Bring what’s in the box.” He turned on his heel, his confidence unshaken.

Then he was gone. His response was neither a confirmation nor a denial of our agreement .

My mind reeled as I considered how my friends would react to me going to New York with Landon. But they didn’t know the Norwood family like I did, didn’t know the level of petty, deceitful torment they could inflict.

I would do this if it would protect my friends’ livelihoods. I would do this if it meant finally ridding myself of Landon completely.

This gala would be the final nail in our coffin, and I planned to hammer it in with high heels and a ball gown.