Shadows of Recovery (Everhart Family #3)

Chapter 6

Six

T he small, kitschy restaurant in Waverly Junction was exactly the kind of place Sophie and her mom, Charlotte, loved to visit—a cozy spot with mismatched furniture, walls adorned with vintage signs, and a menu full of comfort food. As they settled into their booth, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and homemade pie filled the air, offering a sense of warmth and familiarity.

Charlotte studied her daughter with a concerned eye, noticing the way Sophie’s fingers absently played with the edge of her napkin, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. After they placed their orders, Charlotte reached across the table, gently placing her hand over Sophie’s.

“You’ve been through a lot lately,” Charlotte began, her voice filled with maternal concern. “How are you really holding up?”

Sophie sighed, glancing out the window before meeting her mother’s gaze. “Physically, I’m okay. Just a little sore, mostly in my head from the stitches, but I’ll be fine, but... emotionally, it’s been rough.”

Charlotte nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“I can’t stop thinking about that patient’s dad. The one who attacked me. I know it wasn’t his fault, that he was distraught, but...” Sophie’s voice trembled slightly, “I couldn’t save his son. I did everything I could, but he didn’t make it. And it just... it hurts.”

Charlotte squeezed Sophie’s hand, her expression empathetic. “Sweetheart, you did everything in your power. You know that. Sometimes, despite all your efforts, you can’t change the outcome. It’s not your fault.”

Sophie nodded, though the guilt still lingered. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between them. Finally, Sophie took a deep breath and decided to share what had been pressing on her heart even more than the loss of her patient.

“There’s something else, Mom,” she began, her voice quieter now. “It’s Tristan.”

Charlotte’s eyes softened, understanding dawning on her face. “Tell me,” she encouraged.

“I’ve fallen for him,” Sophie confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s not just a crush or admiration. I’m in love with him, Mom. But I don’t know what to do about it. Should I tell him? What if it complicates things? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? And then there’s the age difference...”

Charlotte tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, Sophie... I understand how scary that can feel. But love doesn’t always make sense, and it doesn’t always happen at the ‘right’ time or with the ‘right’ person by society’s standards. But that doesn’t make it any less real or less worth pursuing.”

Sophie looked at her mother, searching her eyes for reassurance. “But what if it’s too much? What if he thinks I’m too young for him?”

Charlotte chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Sophie, look at me. I’m the last person who should be worrying about age differences.” She paused, her smile growing a little more mischievous. “I mean, look at Alex and me. He’s younger, but he’s everything I never knew I needed. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve fallen for him too.”

Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I didn’t think... I mean, I knew you two were close, but I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

Charlotte nodded, her expression turning tender. “It is. And it just... happened. I wasn’t looking for it, but now that it’s here, I can’t imagine my life without him. The age difference doesn’t matter when you find someone who makes you happy, who supports you, and who you can see a future with.”

Sophie let her mother’s words sink in, her heart swelling with both love and relief. “So, you think I should tell Tristan? That it’s worth the risk?”

“I think you should follow your heart,” Charlotte said gently. “Tristan cares about you; that much is clear. And if you love him, he deserves to know. Don’t let fear or uncertainty stop you from being honest about your feelings. Life is too short for what-ifs and regrets.”

Sophie felt a tear slip down her cheek, but it wasn’t from sadness—it was from the overwhelming sense of clarity and hope her mother’s words had given her. She smiled, reaching out to clasp Charlotte’s hand more firmly.

“Thank you, Mom,” Sophie whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “I think I needed to hear that more than I realized.”

Charlotte returned the smile, her eyes warm with pride and affection. “Anytime, sweetheart. Just remember, love doesn’t have rules or limits. It’s messy, and it’s scary, but it’s also the most beautiful thing in the world. And you deserve every bit of it.”

As their food arrived, a new sense of resolve settled within her. She didn’t know exactly how Tristan would react, but she knew she had to be honest with him—and more importantly, with herself. Whatever happened next, she wouldn’t let fear hold her back from the love she had found.

* * *

Two weeks later, Sophie was cleared to return to work. The day began with a scheduled meeting with HR to discuss the attack and her growing relationship with Tristan to ensure everything was handled properly. Sophie and Tristan sat across from Karen, the HR manager, who had a calm and understanding demeanor.

“Thank you both for coming in,” Karen began. “We need to address the potential conflict of interest and ensure both of you can continue to work here without any issues.”

Sophie nodded. “We understand, Karen. We want to make sure we’re handling this professionally.”

Tristan leaned forward. “I’ve already spoken with my deputy ER director, Dr. Elaine Thompson. She continues to supervise Sophie’s work to avoid any direct reporting between us.”

Karen smiled. “That’s good. We also need to ensure your relationship doesn’t affect the workplace environment or patient care. Clearly, the attack by a patient’s father was an anomaly. Transparency is key.”

“Absolutely,” Tristan agreed. “We’re committed to keeping our personal and professional lives separate while at work.”

Karen nodded, satisfied. “Good. As long as you maintain open communication and follow the necessary protocols, I don’t foresee any issues. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Sophie felt a wave of relief. “Thank you, Karen. We appreciate your support.”

After the meeting, Tristan walked Sophie back to the ER. “Are you sure you’re ready to be back?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

“I am,” Sophie replied confidently. “And thank you for caring.”

Tristan winked. “Always.”

* * *

The hospital cafeteria was bustling with the usual midday crowd—nurses, doctors, and staff grabbing quick meals between shifts. Sophie and Tristan managed to find a quiet corner near the windows, away from the noise, and settled down with their trays. The familiar sounds of the hospital around them felt oddly comforting to Sophie, a sign things were returning to some semblance of normalcy after the craziness of the day a few weeks earlier.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” Tristan’s tone was light as he unwrapped a sandwich. His eyes were warm with concern and something else she couldn’t quite name—maybe pride, maybe relief.

Sophie took a sip of her tea, then smiled. “It feels good. Weird, but good. I mean, I’ve only been out for a little while, but it feels like forever.”

Tristan chuckled. “That’s what happens when you’re missed.” He took a bite of his sandwich, then added, “You should have seen the look on the staff’s faces when they heard you were back today. It’s like someone announced free coffee for a year.”

Sophie laughed softly, the sound easing the last of her lingering nerves. “I think you’re exaggerating, but it’s nice to feel welcome.”

“I’m not exaggerating,” Tristan insisted with a grin. “You’re kind of a big deal around here, Dr. Sophie.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, though she couldn’t help but feel a little flattered. “Well, it’s good to be back in the mix. And to have you here with me, making sure I don’t overdo it.”

“That’s part of my job description now.” Tristan winked at her. “Official Sophie-watcher. Don’t tell HR though.”

Sophie laughed again, and for a moment, the world outside their little corner of the cafeteria seemed to disappear. She appreciated how Tristan could make her feel at ease.

“So,” he continued, his tone more casual, “what’s on the agenda for the rest of your day? Besides being fabulous, of course.”

Sophie smiled, appreciating the way he was keeping things light. “I’ve got the rest of the shift till seven. And you?”

“Same here,” Tristan leaned back in his chair, “though I might be done a little earlier. I was thinking… if you’re up for it, we could grab dinner tonight? You know, something that doesn’t involve hospital trays and cafeteria food?”

“I’d love that.”

Tristan’s grin widened, and for a moment, Sophie forgot all about the concussion, the stress, and the uncertainty that had clouded her thoughts. In that instant, it was just the two of them, sharing a moment of connection that felt easy, natural—like slipping into a rhythm they both knew well.

“Great,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “It’s a date.”

Her smile didn’t falter as she took another sip of her tea, her heart light.

* * *

A few nights later, when their schedules synced again, Sophie invited Tristan to her apartment. She wanted to share a quiet evening together. As he arrived, she felt a flutter of anticipation.

She greeted him at the door, her smile lighting up the room. “Hi,” she stepped aside to let him in, “welcome.”

“Hi.” He pulled her into a gentle embrace.

Sophie led him to the kitchen, where the table was set for two. The aroma of homemade lasagna filled the air. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said with a grin.

“Starving, I missed lunch today.” His eyes twinkled with warmth. “I had a bunch of fundraising meetings at the Institute.”

“Drink? I’ve got wine, beer, and... soda, if you want something non-alcoholic.”

Tristan chuckled softly. “Soda sounds perfect. I don’t want to fall asleep on you after the kind of day I’ve had.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as she handed him a cold can of soda. “How did it go?”

“Better than I expected, actually,” Tristan said, leaning against the counter, his expression a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. “We had a few good leads, but it’s always a challenge convincing people to part with their money, even for a good cause.”

Sophie smiled warmly, appreciating his dedication. “I’m sure you did a great job. You’re passionate about the Institute, and that comes across. People can feel that.”

Tristan shrugged modestly. “I hope so. It’s not just about raising funds—it’s about making sure we can keep providing the best care possible. Places like Blackwell are rare, and we need to make sure it continues to thrive.”

Sophie admired the way he spoke about his work, his commitment evident in every word. “I think what you’re doing is incredible, Tristan. You’re making a real difference.”

He looked at her, his gaze softening. “Thanks, Soph. That means a lot, coming from you.”

They shared a quiet moment, the connection between them deepening as the evening light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Sophie felt a flutter of nerves as she gestured toward the table. “Shall we eat?”

Tristan nodded, pushing off the counter and following her to the table. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see what you’ve cooked up.”

They sat down together, the conversation flowing easily as they enjoyed the meal. Sophie found herself relaxing more with each passing minute, the initial nerves giving way to the comfort of being with someone she cared about. As they talked about their day, their work, and their hopes for the future, she felt a sense of contentment she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

And as the evening went on, she realized just how much she looked forward to more nights like this—shared with Tristan in the warmth of her home, where everything felt just right.

After dinner, Sophie took his hand and led him to the living room. “I have something else for you,” she said, her tone soft and inviting.

Tristan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

She guided him to the couch, where she had set up a small dessert spread with candles flickering softly. “I wanted to make this night special,” she whispered.

“You’ve already made it special.” His voice was husky with emotion. “I’m here with you.”

They sat comfortably on the couch, a warm fire crackling in the hearth. Tristan reached for Sophie’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they settled in for a rare, uninterrupted evening together.

“I feel like we haven’t had a moment to just talk about our lives,” Tristan said, his eyes twinkling with interest as he looked at Sophie. “Tell me about your apartment. Do you like living here?”

Sophie hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of a cushion as she considered how to respond. “I do like it,” she began, “but... my lease is coming up for renewal, and they’re raising the rent—a lot. I’m not sure I want to pay that much to stay here.”

Tristan nodded, understanding in his gaze. “That’s a tough decision. But if you’re not sure, maybe it’s a sign that it’s time for a change.”

Sophie looked at him, her heart beating a little faster as she wondered if there was more behind his words. “Yeah, maybe.”

Tristan took a deep breath, his eyes locking with hers as he reached out to take her hand. “Sophie, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve been feeling for a while now.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat, a mix of anticipation and nerves washing over her as she waited for him to continue.

“I’ve fallen for you,” Tristan said softly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I know it’s a big step, and I don’t want to rush you, but I’ve been thinking… I’d love it if you’d consider moving in with me.”

Sophie’s eyes widened, her heart racing as his words sank in. “Tristan...”

“I mean it,” he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I understand if you’re not ready. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I’d love to wake up every day with you by my side.”

Tears welled up in Sophie’s eyes, but they were tears of joy, not uncertainty. “Tristan, I’ve fallen for you too,” she confessed, her voice trembling slightly with the intensity of her emotions. “And if you really mean it... I’d love to move in with you. But before I do, we need to talk about something important.”

Tristan’s brows furrowed slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. “Of course. What is it?”

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Finances. If we’re going to live together, we need to be on the same page about money. It’s a big part of sharing a life, and I want us to be open and honest with each other from the start. I know that after having roommates through school—not that I consider you a roommate. I never slept with them.” She started getting tongue-tied.

Chewing his lip, Tristan nodded. “You’re absolutely right. We need to be clear about everything, and I want us to be a team in every way. We can sit down and figure it all out together, make sure we’re both comfortable with how things will work.”

Sophie smiled, relief washing over her. “That’s all I needed to hear. I want this, Tristan. I want us.”

Tristan’s face broke into a warm, genuine smile as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “I want us too, Sophie. More than anything.” He held her tightly. “Now I have a question. What will your powerhouse of a family think?” He shook his head in admiration. “I can’t believe I survived their hospital visit.”

Sophie laughed, squeezing his hand. “You did great. They liked you. I could tell. And they’ll be fine with it.”

Tristan smiled. “I’m glad. I really wanted to make a good impression. And I hope you’re right.”

“You did. You’re amazing,” Sophie assured him. “But what about your family? You haven’t told me much about them.”

Tristan leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, you know I have two sisters and a brother, and we’re all doctors. My sisters, Amelia and Claire, are a cardiologist and an orthopedic surgeon, respectively. My brother, James, is a neurosurgeon. We grew up in New York City. My dad is a cardiologist and my mom a pediatrician.”

Sophie was clearly impressed. “Your family must have high expectations.”

“They do,” Tristan admitted. “Sometimes it’s a bit too much. It’s why I left New York. I wanted to lead a meaningful life, leave a legacy, not be someone who was just about the prestige or the money. It’s one of the reasons why I started the Blackwell Institute for Trauma Recovery.” He took a deep breath.

Sophie’s eyes softened, and she ran a finger down his cheek. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“After I graduated medical school, I enlisted and became an Army Ranger Regimental Physician in Afghanistan,” he shared.

“Wow, Mom and Dad didn’t like that, huh?” Sophie teased.

“Mom, my sisters, and my wife flipped out. My dad and my brother, they understood.” He looked pensive. “By then, I had the house in South Dakota. Mimi grew up here.” He looked up at the ceiling. “While I was in Kandahar, my wife, Mimi, was followed home one night and raped.”

Sophie adjusted her position to hold him against her, slipping her hand in his.

“She never told me. It wasn’t until…” His eyes squeezed shut and back open again as he rubbed his chest. “It wasn’t until my CO came to speak with me. Mimi’s best friend found her. She’d taken her life.” He looked into Sophie’s eyes. “I wish I could say I started the Institute for a noble cause. I started it because I never wanted anyone to go through that trauma alone.”

Sophie pressed her forehead to his. “I’m so sorry.” Tears dampened his cheek. Were they hers or his or both? “You should be proud of your accomplishments. The Institute fills a void in trauma care. You fill that void.”

Tristan shrugged. A flush of pink tinted his cheeks. “After I mourned and locked myself away for a month, I was watching a terrible movie on one of the streaming channels. A veteran was coming apart. I started talking to the television.”

He pushed free of her embrace and began to pace. “I forgot it was a movie. The character was hospitalized. And the doctors put him in a drugged stupor. I kept telling the TV doctor, as long as the vet was in a safe space and monitored, he didn’t need to be drugged like that. Then the reasons why—not enough staffing and expenses—occurred to me. I knew, with the right resources, I could do it better. And that’s how it began.

“My father supported me—emotionally, and he contributed a big chunk financially. He understood my vision. And I think he was happy I was functional again. The rest of my family wanted me to come back to New York City. But Mimi was from South Dakota. I fell in love with her and this area.” He exhaled heavily.

“Thank you for telling me how she died. And I’m sorry you lost her the way you did.” Sophie rested her head against his heart.

“You’re important to me. I don’t want secrets between us.” He ran his hand up and down her back. “I don’t want to hide what we have.”

Sophie leaned up, kissing him softly. “I don’t either.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence. The fire crackled in the hearth.

“I’d like to meet your family.” Sophie straddled his lap and kissed the tip of his nose.

“And I’d like you to.” His voice was filled with sincerity. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so,” Sophie said with a hint of mischief. “It makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sophie,” Tristan laughed, his voice husky with desire as he gently cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone, “you’re such a wonderful blessing in my life.”

Her heart fluttered at his touch, a rush of heat flooding through her. “Tristan,” she breathed, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings. “I want us… I want you.”

His lips found hers in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, exuding passion and longing. She responded with equal fervor, her hands weaving through his hair as she pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together.

Slowly, Tristan’s hands traveled down her back, his touch igniting a fire wherever his fingers went. He paused, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Sophie nodded, her eyes shining with certainty. “Yes, I’m sure.”

With a shared smile, they moved toward the bedroom. Once inside, the door closed behind them, and the world outside faded away.

Tristan’s hands were gentle but firm as he slipped the zipper of Sophie’s dress down her back, sliding it off her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet. She stood before him in her panties and bra, her breath quickening as he gazed at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes drinking in every inch of her.

Sophie’s cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but she felt nothing but cherished. She reached for him, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest. Tristan shrugged off his shirt, and she traced the contours of his body, marveling at the strength and warmth of him.

Their clothes discarded, they came together in a flurry of kisses and caresses, their bodies moving instinctively toward the bed. Sophie pulled Tristan down gently, his lips never leaving hers. He kissed a trail down her neck, his hands exploring the softness of her skin, eliciting shivers of pleasure from her.

His fingers settled on the firm swell of her breasts. He bit gently, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for her to feel his teeth.

Sophie arched into him, her hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. “Tristan,” she whispered, her voice a plea and a promise. She nuzzled his cheek.

“I’m here,” his deep voice rumbled. “I’m with you.” He teased her nipple with his tongue, then glided a rough palm across her abdomen. He slid lower, parting her folds and pressing two fingers inside her. She quivered around them, turning him ravenous. His tongue circled her swollen clit.

Sophie’s head rolled from side to side as she moaned. His fingers thrust in and out, rotating until he found that special internal rise. When he nibbled her clit once more, her hips rose, and she cried out, her core contracting around him.

Tristan produced a condom from his wallet. He sheathed himself and slid inside her. Her nails clawed at the taut muscles encasing his shoulder blades. He clutched her to him as he buried himself inside her repeatedly with slow, long thrusts. His palm drifted to her thigh, wrapping her leg around him.

Their bodies moved together. Tristan’s touch was both tender and commanding, guiding Sophie to heights of pleasure she had never known. She spiraled higher, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their lovemaking. His name escaped her lips in a breathless whisper as she clung tight, exploding around him.

Tristan’s control finally slipped, and he surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over him. They reached their peak together, their cries of ecstasy mingling in the air.

In the aftermath, they lay entwined in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Tears of joy welled in her eyes. “I love you too.”

Soon they drifted off to sleep, his body spooning hers.