Shadows of Recovery (Everhart Family #3)

Chapter 38

Thirty-Eight

T hat night, Tristan returned home, his mind still going over the day’s revelations. As he walked through the door, the comforting aroma of fresh bread greeted him. Sophie met him, her eyes smiling with warmth and affection.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping aside to let him in. "I made roasted chicken and dumplings for dinner. And chocolate chip cookies for dessert."

Tristan's heart swelled with appreciation. "That sounds amazing. Thank you."

As they moved to the kitchen, she continued, her voice more serious, "In therapy today, I worked through what happened the first night I came home."

Tristan nodded, listening intently as she spoke.

"I talked about my other fears and doubts... like whether I’d ever be able to work as a doctor again," she confessed, looking up at him with a mix of hope and anxiety.

He paused, considering his words carefully. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

She took a deep breath. "Being a doctor is the only job I've ever wanted. But I'm scared."

Tristan reached out, taking her hand in his. "Give yourself time."

She sighed, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "What choice do I have?"

He hugged her tightly, his voice a soothing whisper in her ear. "Trust yourself, Sophie.”

The evening was spent in quiet companionship, watching TV together. The warmth of their shared presence provided a sense of normalcy that had been missing for so long.

When they decided to go to bed, the memory of Sophie’s earlier revelation about her fears resurfaced in Tristan’s mind. She had been so vulnerable when she admitted she climaxed during her rape, fearing he would reject her because of it.

They lay in their bed, the room softly lit by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. In the quiet of their sanctuary, there was a sense of peace. She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.

"Tristan," she whispered, "will you make love to me?"

Tristan's heart pounded in his chest. He had thought about this moment, had talked about it extensively with his psychiatrist. He knew the importance of going slowly, of being gentle. He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will. We’ll go slow. I promise."

He started with a tender kiss, his lips brushing against hers softly. He felt her initial tension, the rigidity in her body, but he continued, his touch gentle and reassuring. His hands moved slowly over her, each caress meant to comfort her and affirm his love for her.

Sophie responded tentatively at first, her movements uncertain. Tristan whispered soothing words, his voice a low murmur against her skin. "You're safe with me, Sophie. Always."

As he kissed her neck and shoulders, he felt the tension in her body slowly begin to melt away. Her breathing softened, and he sensed her letting go, surrendering to the safety and warmth of his embrace. When she closed her eyes, a silent trust passed between them, a reassurance that, in this moment, everything was okay. Holding her like this, feeling her relax against him, made him realize just how much he wanted to protect her, to be the one she could always lean on.

Tristan’s hands continued their slow exploration, his touch light and comforting. He moved down, kissing her collarbone, her chest, taking his time with each movement. Sophie’s breathing deepened, her body responding to his gentle attention. Tristan’s hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

He paused, looking up at her. "Are you okay?"

Sophie nodded, her eyes softening. "Yes. I trust you."

Encouraged, Tristan continued, his kisses trailing down her stomach. He could feel her body relaxing further, her trust in him palpable. He moved back up, aligning himself with her, his hands cradling her face.

"Sophie, I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Tristan.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He entered her slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. Sophie gasped, her eyes widening, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. Tristan moved gently, maintaining a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Sophie’s initial fear was slowly replaced by a growing sense of pleasure and connection. Tristan could see the change in her, feel it in the way she responded to his touch. She was letting herself be vulnerable, opening up to the sensations and emotions coursing through her.

It was a moment of trust, of shared intimacy, and it made his heart swell with both love and protectiveness. Watching her let go of her fears and embrace the moment made him feel more connected to her than ever before. Tristan’s every movement was filled with love and tenderness, his focus entirely on her.

* * *

As they moved together, Sophie felt a wave of emotions. There was fear, yes, but also a profound sense of healing. This act, once a source of trauma, was now being redefined in the loving, safe environment Tristan created.

She began to respond more actively, her hips moving in sync with his, her hands exploring his back and shoulders. The intimacy between them grew, each moment a step toward reclaiming her sense of self and her body.

She let go, her body relaxing completely into his. He maintained their slow, loving pace, every thrust and caress meant to reassure and connect. He whispered words of love, his lips brushing against her ear.

When they finally reached their peak, it was a shared experience of profound intimacy and healing. Sophie cried out, her body trembling with release. Tristan followed, his own climax mingling with hers in a moment of perfect unity.

Afterward, they lay together, their bodies entwined. Tristan held her close, his hand gently stroking her hair. "Thank you for trusting me.”

Sophie looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears—not of sadness, but of relief and newfound hope. "Thank you for loving me, Tristan."

He kissed her forehead. "That’s easy with you.”