Page 74 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Epilogue

Sophia

“It came!” I exclaimed as I burst into the bright, bustling office of Buescher-Jones Publishing, holding the envelope aloft like a trophy.

Andi stood in the common area, instantly attuned to my excitement. “Yay! Congrats!”

“Wait. I don’t know what it says yet,” I admitted, though my grin probably gave away my rising hope.

“Well, open it already!” she demanded, practically bouncing in place.

I ripped open the seal, my eyes scanning the bolded first line.

My heart skipped, then soared. “Thank you for your application…” I quickly rattled off the rest of the sentence in my head.

“I got in!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the office.

Andi and I jumped up and down in an uncoordinated but exuberant hug.

“Could you ladies maybe go squeal somewhere else?” Corbin’s voice cut through the celebration as he poked his head out of his office, mock annoyance etched on his handsome features. “What’s the excitement this time? Andi get another new purse?”

“That wasn’t just a new purse—it was a Hermès. And I got an amazing deal on it,” Andi shot back, hands on her hips. “Also, your girlfriend just got into Brown.”

The shift in Corbin’s expression was immediate. His teasing smirk melted into pure joy. “You got in?”

I nodded, unable to suppress my grin as he strode toward me.

Before I could say anything else, he wrapped me in his arms, spinning me in a full circle .

“I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it,” he said, his voice warm and genuine. Then his lips found mine in a kiss that made the world fade into the background.

Andi cleared her throat dramatically. “I miss the no-relationship policy,” she muttered as she sauntered toward her office.

Corbin and I both smiled into the kiss, pulling apart just enough to exchange a shared laugh, our foreheads touching briefly before he pulled away.

The past three months had been nothing short of transformative.

After that day in the breakroom at Elijah’s, Corbin whisked me off to New York, where I met Monica McKenzie—my idol. She was everything I dreamed and more, writing me a custom inscription on my latest copy of Spilled Martini, encouraging me to follow my dreams.

Corbin also took the opportunity to introduce me to his grandparents.

His grandmother was lucid, according to Buzz—a rare sight these days.

I shared photos of Misty Springs. We found common connections—friends and places she remembered from decades ago—and spent hours reminiscing about how things had changed.

Corbin’s relationship with his grandfather, once strained, seemed to mend before my eyes. The two of them would lean close, talking in whispers, exchanging smiles that spoke of a bond finally repaired.

Meeting the Manhattan branch of Buescher-Jones was a whirlwind. New faces, new opportunities, and connections I hadn’t dreamed of making.

Corbin beamed with pride as he introduced me to his team, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged in his world—our world.

I stayed until the day before Christmas Eve, marveling at the city’s lights and decorations. But when the holidays came, we parted ways briefly. I spent time with Penny and her family when they visited Misty Springs, while Corbin stayed behind with his grandparents.

Luke teased me endlessly, asking if I’d met Bruce Wayne yet.

I laughed, telling him I kind of had. I mean, after all, Corbin was rich, hot, and had a knack for fighting the bad guys in my life .

Corbin pulled me into his office and handed me a thick black gift bag.

I eyed the white gift tag attached to it, huffing a laugh when I read the names he wrote in the pre-printed fields.

To: 1C

From: 1B

Corbin watched me closely, grinning his playful Corbin grin (my favorite).

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I dipped my hands into the bag, shuffling through layers of soft white tissue paper until my fingers brushed against something smooth, firm, and unmistakably luxurious.

Lifting it out, I uncovered a deep black leather backpack, the fine material supple beneath my touch. The iconic Louis Vuitton logo was subtly embossed into the grain, a brand even I could recognize as expensive.

“This is… beautiful.”

“You needed a new backpack for your laptop—yours is literally held together with staples,” he said into my hair as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Thank you, I love it. But I told you that just because we were together, I didn’t want you buying me things,” I warned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He pulled away, a coy look on his face. “Oh, you’re really not going to be happy with me when you find out what else I did.”

***

“Where are we going?” I asked as Corbin drove down a familiar road, his expression unreadable.

“You’ll see.”

When we pulled up to the house, my breath hitched.

The sight of it was like a ghost from my past, but instead of fear, it brought a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

The wraparound porch where I’d spent countless summers reading books.

The flower beds my mom used to tend with care—now overgrown but still holding traces of her touch.

My old home. The one I’d sold when Landon convinced me I had no choice.

I looked at Corbin, confused as to why he had brought me here—or how he even knew what this place was to me .

I barely noticed the car coming to a stop before Corbin’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“I bought it… for you ,” he whispered softly, his gaze fixed on me, waiting to gauge my reaction.

A jolt shot through my body as my head swirled back toward my childhood home. A home I thought I would never see the inside of again.

Tears misted my eyes as I turned back to him. “You… what?” My voice cracked, teetering between shock and disbelief.

“It’s yours,” he repeated.

I climbed out of the car, the spring air cool on my skin as I looked up at the beautiful brick two-story. My head started to feel a little woozy.

“Don’t be upset,” Corbin said quickly, following me to the curb.

“It was on the market, and I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else getting it. It’s in your name—fully yours. No strings, no loopholes,” he paused, his voice lowering with a tenderness that made my chest ache. “I just… I wanted you to have it.”

With Landon, I’d been conditioned to see every gift, every offer of help, as a trap. He had wielded favors like weapons, wrapping them in chains disguised as generosity. The fear of letting someone hold something over me was a reflex I couldn’t shake.

But Corbin wasn’t Landon.

Corbin didn’t take. He gave. Not because he wanted leverage but because he wanted me —happy, whole.

I stared at him, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he’d done. It wasn’t just a house. It was a piece of my history, a reminder of where I came from.

My voice cracked as a tear ran down my cheek. “Thank you.”

Corbin’s smile beamed in the bright afternoon sun. He gently wiped away the lone tear before wrapping his hand around mine and pulling me toward the front door.

He plucked a single key from his pocket and let it dangle from his finger.

“You know,” he said, his voice teasing as he unlocked the front door, pushing it open, “if you need help bringing your bag inside...”

“I don’t know if that trick will work on me twice, Mr. Buescher,” I teased, my cheeks heating as I remembered our hotel room encounter .

I turned to face him, and he settled his hands on my hips. I leaned in, kissing him, every emotion falling into my lips.

His strong hands pulled me close, and his fingers dug gently into my sides until there was no space left between us.

The spring air mingled with the scent of fresh blooms, hinting at new beginnings.

When we finally broke apart, he was grinning, his eyebrows wiggling in a way that told me he was thinking about our hotel encounter, too.

I laughed, the sound bubbling up with the memories we shared that were so preciously ours .

Without hesitating, I jumped into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as he caught me effortlessly.

“You’re unbelievable,” I murmured against his ear.

He carried me across the threshold into the house where so many chapters of my life had unfolded. A familiar smell greeted me, one that existed years later, woven so deep in the grains of the wood frame that it would linger forever.

It combined with Corbin’s scent, mixing with the air and making it smell so inexplicably like home.

Corbin set me down, his arms lingering around my waist. He looked deep into my eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, licking his lips and catching his bottom lip with his teeth nervously.

“I love you, Sophia Carlson. I loved you ever since you stole my seat in first class.”

My heart swelled. In front of me stood the most mesmerizingly handsome, ambitious, and generous man I’d ever met—and he loved me.

“Can I tell you something?” I asked, biting my lip too. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in first class.”

His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened in playful shock. “I knew—”

My kiss cut him off, and as it deepened, the final suture needed to mend my broken heart stitched itself up tight.

Everything finally felt right.

It was as if the pieces of my life had to be shattered first to form the rich mosaic that glowed like a stained-glass window lit by brilliant sunlight .

I pulled away and nestled my head into his chest.

“I love you, too, Corbin,” I whispered.

This house had always been filled with stories—laughter echoing through its halls, love tucked into every corner.

Our moment imprinted itself on the next page, the start of a new chapter—one of many we’d build together, beginning with our first I love yous .

Building a story that would mean more to me than any love story ever written.

A love that was more than fiction.

The End.