Page 21 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

She was deciding whether to let me in, and I didn’t want to be the one to push too hard and make her retreat.

She huffed a humorless laugh. “We were together on and off since we were in middle school. I thought I could help him, you know? That if I just stuck it out, he’d turn into the guy I always thought he could be.”

“And did he?”

“Turns out, that was also on and off.”

My jaw tightened, though I made an effort to keep my expression neutral. It wasn’t my place to judge someone I didn’t know, but the thought of anyone taking her loyalty and patience for granted made me want to track the guy down and set him straight. People like Dane didn’t understand what they had until it was too late.

But then another thought crept into my mind, and it wasn’t a good one. I stepped forward, my hands closing into fists. “Sofia… Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “No, it’s not like that. He’s never been the violent type. Not with me, anyway. Anemotional wreck, sure. Stubborn, definitely. But he’s not going to hurt me.”

“Physically,” I tacked on.

Her lips curved down in acknowledgement, but she didn’t reply.

I stayed quiet for a moment, turning over her words. Emotional wreck… Stubborn. Not violentwith her.The way she said it sounded rehearsed, like she’d told herself the same thing enough times to believe it—or at least hope it was true.

I’d seen men like Dane before—guys who didn’t know how or when to let go. It wasn’t always about fists or threats. Sometimes, it was the way they chipped away at someone’s confidence, their peace, until they were too tired to fight back. The thought of someone doing that to Sofia made my hand come up on its own, rubbing a spot on my chest to ease the dull ache there.

“You know, I lied to you before,” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets.

Her gaze flew to mine. “What?”

“When I said I got lost on the way to my room,” I replied, smiling slightly when her shoulders relaxed, and light returned to her eyes. “I’m actually right across the hall. Room four.”

Her brows knitted together as she gestured to her door. “Right out there?”

“Yep. Didn’t realize it until I asked Joan which room you were in.”

Sofia snorted softly. “Aren’t there privacy laws that should’ve kept her from giving out that info?”

“In Snow Hill? Pretty sure this town wouldn’t know what to do with a privacy law.”

She smiled faintly. “You’re probably right.”

“Is it really that bad that I know which room you’re in? I could come in handy. Marine, remember?”

She snorted, and I was immediately grateful my lame boasting had lightened the mood. I didn’t always play the Marine card with the ladies, but if joking about it helped to brighten this one’s day, I was all about it.

We fell into quiet, though, and I studied her, noting the way her shoulders were drawn up tight, like she was bracing for something.

I hated it. It was irrational how much, but there it was.

I’d always been the guy people leaned on. I’d learned who I was after years in Ida’s care, helping her as much as she’d helped me. I liked being relied on—needed, and I’d honed the skill throughout my years in the Marine Corps. And though Sofia had Tommy and Grace in her corner, I doubted Sofia was letting them in.

The idea of her facing whatever this was alone didn’t sit right. It wasn’t just about keeping her safe. It was about letting her know she didn’t have to do that.

I leaned against the wall near the dresser, crossing my arms. “Look, I get it. If this guy shows up again, I’m sure you can handle it.”

“But?”

“But… you don’t have to handle it alone.” My lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might brush me off.

Instead, she looked down at her hands, her fingers knotting together as he heaved out a sigh. “I appreciate that,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But I really am fine.”

I tilted my head. “Are you?”

---