Page 42 of Fall Surprises
Something settled in my chest with startling clarity.
For years, I'd been chasing ideal moments, trying to orchestrate pictures of permanence for other people while keeping myself at a safe distance. I'd built my entire existence around controlling outcomes, never letting anyone close enough to risk opening my heart.
But this week had shattered that illusion of control. Wintervale had crept past my defenses without my permission. These people had embraced me not for my ability to organize a party or solve a crisis, but for who I was beneath the spreadsheets and color-coded files. And Gus—
Gus had seen me at my worst and wanted me anyway. Had pushed me to embrace chaos, to find joy in imperfection, to stop running from feelings just because they weren't part of my five-year plan.
"Yes," I heard myself say, the word coming from somewhere deeper than logic.
Rory blinked, confused. "Yes?"
"Yes, I'll plan your wedding." My voice grew stronger, more certain with each word. "I'll need to relocate my business here, of course. Or set up an independent branch. But I've been thinking—destination weddings in Montana could be a great niche. The Evergreen Inn as a primary venue, seasonal packages that play to each season's strengths..."
"You're staying?" Rory's voice rose with excitement. "You're actually staying? What about Diana's offer?"
I looked back at the kitchen where Gus had stopped pretending to clean, his full attention on our conversation even from across the room.
"I'm staying," I announced, loud enough for him to hear, loud enough for my own heart to believe it. "LA isn't going anywhere. But this—" I gestured to the party, the inn, the town beyond with its lights and quiet streets. "This doesn't come around twice. Some opportunities you have to grab even when Artificial Intelligence says they don't make sense."
Rory squealed and pulled me into a hug that probably cracked ribs. Cass clapped me on the shoulder with a grin that said he understood exactly what I was choosing. But I only had eyes for Gus, who'd abandoned all pretense and was walking toward us with an expression of cautious hope.
He stopped in front of me, ignoring Rory and Cass entirely, ignoring the other couples on the terrace, ignoring everything but me.
"You're staying in Wintervale?" His voice was rough, uncertain, like he was afraid to believe what he'd heard. "What about the job? The money? Surely you can’t hope to make here what you would by joining the network in Hollywood.”
"I've worked for success," I told him, reaching up to straighten his ridiculous Superman shirt, my fingers lingering on the fabric. "But I never worked for happiness. Not my own at least. Never thought I deserved it, maybe. Or was too scared to want something I couldn't guarantee."
"And now?"
"Now I know the difference between a life that looks good on paper and one that feels right in reality." I met his eyes, let him see everything I'd been too careful to say before. "I choose themessy one. The unexpected one. I choose this small town that adopted me when I wasn’t looking. I choose you."
He pulled me against him and kissed me right there in front of everyone, deep and claiming and full of promise. Applause erupted around us—apparently we'd drawn quite an audience—but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears and the rush of certainty.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Gus rested his forehead against mine, his hands warm against my cheeks.
"You sure about this? About upending your entire carefully planned life for a town you've known for less than a week and a chef who drove you absolutely mad?"
"I've never been more sure of anything." I smiled. "You still drive me crazy, by the way. Leaving earbuds in while cooking? Who does that?"
"Good. Someone needs to keep you from organizing the entire universe into submission."
"And someone needs to keep you from hiding in your kitchen instead of actually living your life."
"Sounds like we're stuck with each other then."
"Sounds like exactly what we need."
Around us, the party was finally, truly ending. Guests called goodbyes, vendors packed up the last of their equipment, the DJ announced the final dance with a flourish. But in Gus's arms, with Wintervale's lights around us and the promise of a thousand imperfect, unplanned moments ahead, I felt like the real story was starting.
Diana would call me utterly mad for turning down her offer. Emma would demand a full psychiatric evaluation and possibly an intervention. My mother would list at least seventeen reasons why this was a terrible decision, complete with financial projections and risk assessments.
But as Gus spun me one more time under the stars in my pink fairy ballgown, laughing when I stepped on his foot, then pulling me closer like he never intended to let go, I knew I'd already found what I'd been searching for deep down all along.
Home. Love. A place where being myself—intense, vulnerable, imperfect me—was not just enough but exactly right.
Epilogue
Sam
