Epilogue
SOFIA
One year later…
I took a sip of cocoa, the rich, chocolatey warmth filling me as I sank deeper into my cozy library chair. This room was my sanctuary, my favorite place in the house.
It turned out exactly how I’d pictured it—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined every wall, their dark wood glowing in the warm light of the fireplace. A plush rug covered the floor, its soft texture a perfect match for the oversized armchair I was curled up in. And the windows let in the most amazing light, even as snow drifted lazily outside, coating the world in a white blanket.
The sound of boots on the hardwood broke through the quiet, and I looked up just as Hudson appeared in the doorway. He was carrying a box of ornaments, his lips quirking into a half-smile as he surveyed the room.
“You know,” he drawled, setting the box down on the rug, “for someone who told me you weren’t going to go crazy for our first Christmas in the house, you sure bought a lot of ornaments.”
“Blame Grace.” I smirked, setting my mug on the side table. “Anyway, I said I wouldn’t go over-the-top . I still feel like I’m holding to that.”
He raised an eyebrow and pulled a glittery gold star out of the box. He held it up, swinging it gently from his fingers. “Once all of this is up, we’ll circle back to that.”
I shrugged, fighting back a grin. “You’ll love it. Besides, as the new manager at The Hearthstone, I feel like I have a duty to make my house look just as festive as the bar looks.”
Hudson chuckled, setting the star back in the box before settling onto the ottoman in front of me. “If you love it, I love it. Besides, I’m not here much. You’re the only one who’ll have to sit in it if you get carried away.”
I rolled my eyes, but my smile softened as I reached out to brush my fingers over his. I hated how hard recruiting duty was on him. As promised, it took a serious toll on his mental health. But, if there was one thing I’d learned in my short time as a Marine wife, it was the importance of helping them through it when there was just nothing they could do to make it better.
“I’m glad you’re here now,” I said, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.
His expression shifted toward tender when we broke apart. “I’m just glad I’m coming home at the end of every day instead of being on deployment. Makes the whole day go by faster when I think about coming home to this.”
“This?” I teased, gesturing to the room around us.
“This,” he said firmly, leaning forward to kiss me again. “You. The house. All of it.”
I squeezed his hand. “Well, I’m here. You’ve helped me through enough. It’s only fair I return the favor.”
Hudson’s hazel eyes locked onto mine. “You already do.”
Putting my mug on the table next to the chair, I glanced at the box of ornaments, and then back at him. “So, are you going to put those on the tree, or are we just going to keep them in the box all day?”
He sighed dramatically but stood, pulling me up with him. “You sure know how to boss me around, Mrs. Green.”
“It’s part of my charm.” I grinned, looping my arm through his as we headed for the living room to get started. Because yes, I would help.
The Christmas tree stood in the corner, its lights twinkling softly against the big bay window. Everywhere I looked, there was something that reminded me of how far this house had come, how far we had come.
Hudson set the box of ornaments by the tree, and I let my gaze wander over the walls. Photos of us and our friends—our family, really—were framed alongside random pieces of art we’d picked up over the last year. The picture of Hudson and Tommy holding up the first bookshelf they built for my library made me smile. It wasn’t perfect—the left side leaned just slightly—but once they anchored it to the wall, it was fine.
And it wasn’t just the libary that had turned out exactly how we’d wanted, with great memories attached to the renovation project. The floors, once scuffed and stained, gleamed now after countless hours of sanding and sealing.
I could still remember Hudson, Jack, Tommy, and Jamie insisting they could do it themselves, even after I’d begged Hudson to let a professional take over. He’d just grinned at me, a streak of dust across his face, and said, “What? We don’t look like a bunch of professionals to you?”
But honestly? They’d done a fantastic job.
Then there was the kitchen. My absolute favorite room to hate during the renovation. I’d spent hours peeling off layer after layer of outdated wallpaper while Hudson painstakingly replaced the cabinets. It had been a nightmare—sticky, tedious, and full of far too many near-meltdowns—but now, seeing the clean white walls and the sleek countertops, I couldn’t help but feel a ridiculous sense of pride.
I wrapped my arms around myself, taking it all in. The house didn’t just look like a home—it felt like one. It wasn’t just the big things, like the furniture or the tree or the gleaming hardwood. It was the little details that made it ours. The fluffy throw blanket Hudson bought for the couch and cuddled under all the time, even though he claimed it was mine. The tiny nicks and scratches on the kitchen table from late-night card games with our friends. The way the light hit the library windows just right in the afternoon, making the room feel like magic.
Every corner of this house had a piece of us in it—of our struggles, our laughter, our love. It wasn’t perfect, but neither were we. And somehow, that made it even better.
“Let’s get this party started.” Hudson walked back into the room, another box of decorations in one hand and a mug of cocoa in the other. He handed me the mug and kissed my temple. “You with me?”
“I’m with you.” I nodded, taking a sip and smiling up at him. “Just thinking about how much we’ve done here. It’s hard to believe this is the same house.”
He glanced around, his expression softening. “We’ve come a long way, huh?”
“A very long way,” I agreed. “But it was worth it. Every bit of it.”
His eyes met mine, warm and steady. “Yeah, it was.”
The sound of laughter drifted in from the driveway, followed by the crunch of boots on fresh snow. I looked over just as the front door opened, letting in two very familiar faces.
Tommy stepped inside first, shaking snow from his short hair like a wet dog. “I’m freezing. Where’s the cocoa?”
Grace followed, carrying a plate covered in foil and giving him a pointed look. “Um, how about you say ‘hi’ first, like a normal human being?”
“Hi,” Tommy said to us, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Where’s the cocoa?”
Grace muttered something under her breath, rolling her eyes as she handed the plate to me. “Snickerdoodles,” she said, her tone much brighter now. “Still warm from the oven.”
“You’re a saint,” I said, lifting the foil and inhaling the cinnamon-sugar goodness. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”
“Cookies deserves cocoa,” Hudson drawled begrudgingly, heading into the kitchen to get some.
I shook my head, laughing as I set the cookies down on the coffee table. “But that doesn’t mean you can sit on your butt and drink it while we do all the decorating.”
Grace laughed, sinking onto the couch. “Good luck enforcing that, Fi.”
Tommy flopped onto the couch beside her, reaching for a cookie, apparently deciding to ignore us. But then his gaze caught on one of our wedding photos on the wall, and he pointed at it. “I’ll give you this—you guys threw a seriously good wedding.”
Hudson walked in and handed Tommy his precious cocoa, and my smile softened as I glanced up at him. “It was perfect, wasn’t it?”
“Perfect,” he echoed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Even with this guy almost catching his sleeve on fire during the toast.”
“That was part of the performance,” he whined. “No one ever believes that I meant to do that. Best man speeches get boring without a little action to spice things up.”
“Either way,” Hudson said, drawing the words out to purposely shut Tommy down before he swept me into his arms, “it was the best day of my life.”
It was mine, too. But I didn’t say it out loud. He already knew.
Later, the clink of dishes in the sink filled the quiet as Hudson and I worked side by side in the kitchen. It had been a great evening—cookies and decorating with two of our favorite people, jokes and teasing. Basically my version of Christmas-flavored heaven.
As I reached for another plate, Hudson’s phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and smiled before picking it up. “It’s Ida,” he said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “I’ll take this real quick.”
“Tell her I said hi,” I called after him as he disappeared into the living room.
I smiled to myself as I rinsed a dish, my thoughts drifting to Hudson’s relationship with his aunt. No matter how busy he got with recruiting or the house or us, he always made time for her. Sometimes, it was a quick phone call. Other times, a surprise visit. He’d told me once that he could never repay her for everything she’d done for him, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
And that was just who he was.
My heart swelled even as I scrubbed at a stubborn spot on a pan. Hudson never let the people he loved forget how much they mattered to him. He was already an incredible husband, and soon, he’d be an incredible father, too.
I glanced down at my belly, a quiet smile spreading across my face. And, without a doubt, Ida was going to be a wonderful great-aunt.
I couldn’t wait to tell them. I’d been debating how to share the news for days, the secret feeling bigger and brighter every day. Maybe Christmas morning… If I could wait that long.
The sound of footsteps broke through my thoughts, and I turned just in time to see Hudson stride back into the kitchen, his grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ida says hi,” he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.
“Hi back,” I said, reaching for another plate.
But before I could grab it, Hudson’s hands were on my waist, and in one swift motion, he lifted me off my feet. “Hey!” I protested, laughing as he threw me over his shoulder and spun toward the hallway. “I’m not done with the dishes!”
“Dishes can wait,” he said. “I’ve got something more important in mind.”
“Hudson!” I squirmed in his arms, but his grip stayed solid, his laughter rumbling against me. “You’re the worst.”
“That’s not what you said last night,” he teased, carrying me down the hall and into our bedroom.
I was still laughing when he plopped me down on the bed, but then his grin softened, and his hands brushed down my arms. The weight of the moment settled around us, warm and steady, and there was no teasing in the way I smiled up at him.
It was the kind of smile that I hoped told him exactly how I was feeling: This is home. This is peace. This is everything.
We’ll head back to Snow Hill next season for Jamie’s story, so stay tuned!