20. Hudson
CHAPTER 20
Hudson
Ida and Joan were at the front desk when we arrived at the inn, deep in conversation over a stack of what looked like guest reservation cards.
“Well, if she wants the honeymoon suite,” Ida said, not bothering to lower her voice, “she’ll have to take it up with the actual newlyweds who wanna stay in it. They booked that thing a year ago.”
Joan rolled her eyes, but then her expression brightened when she noticed us. “Sofia! Just the person I wanted to see.” She straightened, brushing her hands down the front of her festive sweater dress. “I might’ve found a stray pen pal letter that didn’t get delivered to you.”
Sofia stopped mid-step, her face lighting up. “Really? Thanks.”
Joan reached for an envelope sitting on the counter. “Found it in the Santa box this morning.” She handed it over, her smile warm but with an unmistakable flicker of curiosity when she looked at me.
Her words hit me like a punch as I studied the cream-colored envelope with Sofia’s name on the front. I frowned, my body going rigid. “It shouldn’t have been in the Santa box if it was already in this envelope, right? You guys do that part yourselves.”
Ida and Joan shared a look, and then Ida shrugged. “Maybe we accidentally delivered this to the wrong person, so they dropped it in the box so Sofia would get it?”
Sofia’s lips curved into a soft smile as she took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. I could tell she was just grateful for another letter, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Something about it set every nerve I had on edge.
At best, it was the letter Joan had put under her door the other night, written by Sofia’s actual pen pal—me, I hoped.
At worst, someone had taken that letter only to use the envelope to send her a message of their own.
Sofia glanced up at me, her brows knitting slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Open it.” I gave her a tight smile. She had no idea how much was wrong.
My thoughts spun out of control as Sofia opened the envelope. I’d told her to do it because I’d been ready to rip off the Band-Aid. But now? Now, I wanted to stop her. I wanted to grab it out of her hands and check it out myself.
Instead, I clenched my fists at my sides. I didn’t want to alarm her or come down on her in a way that went from protective to bullying. But I watched her every move with my lips tucked tightly between my teeth, my unease growing as she fixed her eyes on the folded page.
She almost looked excited. I worked to keep my breathing steady, trying not to let my concern ruin her moment in case it was a real pen pal letter. But when she started reading, the light in her expression dimmed. Her lips moved silently, forming words I couldn’t see, and then… she froze.
“Sofia? What does it say?” I asked.
She blinked, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the paper. “It’s… weird.”
I reached out instinctively, covering her hand with mine. “Let me see.”
Her hesitation lasted only a second before she handed it over. Her gaze stayed glued to the paper even as I took it, like she was trying to make sense of what she’d just read.
The first few lines were generic enough, almost charming, like whoever wrote them wanted to lull her into a false sense of security. But halfway down, the tone shifted.
You’ve always had a way of drawing people in, haven’t you? I could see it from the very first letter. It’s like you can’t help it—like you’re meant to be noticed. Don’t worry, though. I notice everything. Even when it seems like no one’s watching.
My grip on the paper tightened as I read the last line:
Can’t wait to see more of you, Sofia. Soon.
The words seared through my insides like acid. I folded the letter slowly, carefully, so I didn’t crumple it entirely. We might need it as evidence.
Then, I schooled my features as I turned to look at Sofia.
She was pale, her eyes wide and uncertain. “Hudson, what is this? That doesn’t… that’s not how he usually writes.”
“No,” I said, my voice firm. “It’s not.”
I kept my expression calm, or as calm as I could manage, but inside, my thoughts raced. This wasn’t just someone playing games. This was personal. Intentional. And whoever wrote this? They knew enough about Sofia to make her feel seen in the worst possible way.
I dipped my head to catch her gaze. “It’s not from your pen pal, Sofia. Not the one you’ve been talking to all this time.”
She knew that, but I repeated it for good measure, hoping it would calm whatever storm was brewing behind her eyes. I didn’t want her falling into old patterns of thinking she’d trusted someone who wasn’t what he seemed.
Her brow furrowed at the reminder, but she nodded. “Right… and it’s not just what he wrote. The handwriting is wrong.”
“I know.”
“It’s like the note on my car,” she breathed.
I swallowed hard, hating every second of this. “Whoever’s been messing with you is using the pen pal thing to do it now, but we’re going to find out who he is. We’re going to put a stop to it.”
“How? How do we do that?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, straightening and glancing toward Joan and Ida, who were watching us with concern from the desk. “But I’m going to start by getting some answers.”
She nodded, her shoulders sinking slightly like the fight had gone out of her. I didn’t blame her.
I tucked the letter into my pocket. “Stay here,” I said gently. “I’ll be right back.” I didn’t wait for her to respond before striding toward the desk.
Joan straightened as I approached, her curious gaze darting to my pocket where I’d tucked the letter. “You didn’t write that letter, did you?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
I leaned against the desk, lowering my voice so Sofia wouldn’t hear. “So it’s true? I’m Sofia’s pen pal?”
Joan blinked, and Ida looked sheepish, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the desk. “Well, can you blame us? You’re clearly a perfect match.”
Looking over my shoulder at Sofia, my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. “I agree, but I’ll have to thank you for your meddling later because this letter? The one you found this morning? No. It wasn’t from me. Someone else wrote it. And now, they’re using the pen pal thing to get into her head.”
Joan’s hand flew to her mouth, her face paling. “Oh no.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to piece everything together. Whoever this was, they were close—too close. Enough that they were able to blend in at the inn and slip an already addressed letter into the box without anyone noticing.
“What did it say?” Joan asked quietly.
I shook my head. The words from the letter had burned into my brain, each one threatening the calm I was trying to maintain. A line had been crossed. Those were my words that’d been making Sofia so happy for the last few weeks. Our connection that we’d built over however many hours with paper and pen. He didn’t get to do this. I wouldn’t let him take this away.
“Hudson?” Sofia asked as she came up behind me. “What’s going on?”
I turned, and the look in her eyes knocked the wind out of me. Confusion. Fear. And something so raw that it made my chest ache.
“You’re my pen pal,” I said, the words tumbling out in a low rasp before I could stop them.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Joan flinched, clearly wishing she could disappear. “I think I’ll… uh… go check on something in the kitchen.”
Ida, however, stayed put, watching us with thinly veiled curiosity until Joan doubled back. She took my aunt by the hand, guiding her away.
As soon as they were gone, I stepped closer to Sofia. “It’s true. Joan and Ida paired us up. The letters I wrote—they were to you. And yours came to me.”
Sofia stared at me, her lips parting slightly before closing for a beat. “But why didn’t you say anything? Why… Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know. Not until you said something in the square about what your pen pal said to you, and I remembered writing something like that. And even then, I wasn’t sure. Not completely. But Joan and Ida just confirmed it.”
“But you would have said something once you knew for sure, right? You weren’t going to keep pretending?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, taking her hand.
Her gaze softened, but the tension in her posture didn’t ease. “This is… a lot to process.”
“I know.”
“And it also doesn’t make sense. You’re so… different.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“My pen pal… He’s—well, you were so funny.”
Blinking down at her, I shifted on my feet. “I’m sorry. Are you saying I’m not funny?”
“Well, apparently, I’m saying you’re only funny on paper ,” she replied, a ghost of a smile flitting over her lips. But then she shook out her hands, groaning as the humor in her eyes bled into that fear I hated so much. “Sorry, I’m just… processing. I’m surprised it’s you. The you in front of me is a lot different than the guy I exchanged letters with. But… that’s clearly something we can unpack later. When I can think straight, and I’m not completely freaking out.”
I squeezed her hand as I took a step closer. “I need you to trust me. Whoever left that letter is trying to scare you, but you don’t have to let him. I’m here.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Then she nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I echoed, the weight on my shoulders easing just slightly.
“I feel silly asking this, but when we talked about liking our pen pals…” Her head tilted slightly. “I don’t know what I’m asking. But the letters—they meant something to you, right?”
“Of course they did. They were this… bright spot. Something I looked forward to every day. And meeting you —getting to know you in person—” I paused, taking a breath. “Sofia, I’m happy it was you I was writing to.”
She exhaled sharply. “I should’ve known. There were moments when it felt like I did, but then I told myself to drop it. I didn’t want to ruin anything by knowing for sure.”
“Nothing is getting ruined here,” I all but growled. I wasn’t sure where that intensity had come from, but hopefully, she wouldn’t hold it against me. “Look, I don’t like that either one of us found out like this, but I’m glad we know now.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “I just can’t believe we’ve been getting to know each other twice like this. Once in letters and once in real life.”
“And in both cases,” I said, closing the distance between us until she was a breath away, “I fell for you.”
Her breath hitched in surprise, and maybe like she wasn’t sure she’d heard me right. “You did?”
I reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered, brushing against her skin as her gaze locked onto mine. “I know this is a lot, and I know things aren’t exactly good right now. But Ida always taught me to find some bright side to every situation, and as dark as this one is, what I feel for you is definitely bright enough to fight it. And win .”
She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and for a moment she just blinked up at me, her eyes a mix of wonder and disbelief.
I held my breath as I waited for her to respond, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Then she shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips, light and almost shy. “Wow. No wonder I liked you in your letters.”
That laugh was my undoing. My lips curved in response, and I inched closer, narrowing the space between us. Her eyes searched mine, and slowly, I leaned down, giving her every opportunity to pull away.
She didn’t retreat. Instead, her eyes fluttered shut, and when her mouth parted ever so slightly as she angled her lips toward mine, it was all the invitation I needed.
The first tentative, testing kiss made me shudder, and when she leaned into me, her arms looping around my neck, I let go of the restraint I’d been holding onto. My hands found her waist, my fingers pressing into the curve of her hips, pulling her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us.
As the kiss deepened, everything else—the lingering fears, the chaos, even knowing there was more still looming over us—faded into the background. All I could focus on was her. I reveled in the warmth of her skin, the way her lips moved with mine, the soft hum in the back of her throat that nearly brought me to my knees.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, anchoring me in a way nothing else ever had. She tasted like peppermint, fresh and cool, and I drowned myself in her scent—something faintly floral and undeniably sweet. Time seemed to bend and fold, every space between heartbeats too quick and also went on forever.
When we finally broke apart, it was only because neither of us had remembered to breathe.
I rested my forehead against hers, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Her hands stayed on me, but she dragged them down, her fingers splaying across my chest like she wasn’t ready to let go yet.
“I meant what I said,” I murmured, eyes closed as we shared the same air. “I’m all in, Sofia. Are you?” I opened my eyes slowly, and I found her looking up at me with so much vulnerability that I had to suck in a breath.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried more weight than anything else she could have said. “I’m all in.”
She smiled then, soft and a little shaky, and I felt the edges of my own mouth curve in response. Without thinking, I pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
When I pulled back, her hands lingered against me, and her cheeks flushed pink. “And in case I need to spell it out, your letters and your kissing made it pretty impossible for me not to fall for you, too.”
I grinned, stealing a another quick kiss because I absolutely had to. And for the first time in days, the weight on both of us seemed just a little lighter.