Page 22 of Shadows of Recovery

Tristan kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers. Their kiss deepened, a slow and passionate one. As they moved to the bedroom, Sophie jumped up into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Eight

Sophie handed Tristan his steaming coffee in a travel cup. "Are you sure you have everything you need for your trauma lecture?" They were standing in the kitchen, sunlight beginning to stream through the windows.

Tristan took a sip and nodded. "I've checked and double-checked. Everything's ready." Seeing the worry etched on her face, he reached out to touch her hand. "It's not just the lecture, is it?"

She sighed, her eyes dropping to the floor. "No, it's your family. Are you comfortable seeing them?"

He shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Not thrilled, honestly. They're expecting me to stay in New York, you know? My father thinks I should focus on franchising the Blackwell Institute now."

Sophie frowned. "But you're happy where you are, right?"

He caressed her cheek. "Yes, I am. They are proud of my success, but they always want more. This lecture is important to me, and I plan to give it my all. I'll spend a day with them and then come home to you."

She smiled, relieved. "And Easter?"

Tristan's expression softened. "I want my family to come here for Easter in April. I want them to get to know you, Sophie."

A car horn beeped outside, breaking the moment. Tristan leaned in, kissing her deeply. “I'll be back soon. I love you.”

* * *

“I love you too,”she said, watching him grab his bag and head to the Uber waiting to take him to the airport. With a heavy heart, she turned and headed back into the house. She missed him already.

In a couple of hours,Sophie walked into the hospital, her mind still on Tristan and his family. She barely noticed Damon Whitlock and his family until they were right in front of her. Damon’s tall frame blocked her path, his dark eyes looking her up and down.

"Sophie," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to thank you. My dad's been looking better than he has in years. The new medication regimen is really working. They should be sending him home soon. But first we need to find him a new doctor."

She smiled, feeling a bit flustered. "I'm glad to hear that, Damon. Your father has been a model patient. I’m sure the doctor treating him in the hospital can find you someone.”

As they spoke, she noticed his family standing a few feet away, giving them space but clearly curious. Damon’s mother was being escorted inside by a woman, who glanced at Sophie with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.

"Really, Sophie, it’s all thanks to you," Damon continued, his tone sincere. "We owe you a lot."

Before she could respond, a nurse called her name, reminding her of the time. "I have to go, Mr. Whitlock. But I'm really happy your dad is doing well."

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. "Thank you again, Sophie."

Inside the locker room, she sat on the bench and dropped her head in her hands. Damon Whitlock had unsettled her again.

* * *

A day later,Tristan stood at the podium in the auditorium at the Irving Medical Institute, Columbia University's health sciences campus in upper Manhattan. The room was packed, every seat filled with eager faces, all there to hear his lecture on a topic close to his heart: "Techniques to Aid in the Survival of Emotional Trauma." He felt a sense of pride and responsibility as he began his presentation.

"Emotional trauma is often more debilitating than physical injuries. At the Blackwell Institute, we focus on holistic healing, integrating physical, emotional, and psychological therapies to help our patients recover fully," Tristan began, his voice steady and passionate.

The audience was captivated, hanging on his every word. Tristan’s dedication to his work was evident, and his innovative techniques had earned him widespread respect in the medical community. He spoke with authority and compassion, sharing insights and methods that had transformed many lives.

After the lecture, Tristan made his way to his parents' home. His family had gathered for a rare reunion, and he was conflicted about spending time with his parents; his two sisters, Claire and Amelia; and his brother, James. But he was pleasantly surprised. The house was filled with laughter and the smell of good food, a comforting backdrop to the day.

Millicent hugged Tristan tightly. "It's so good to have you home, even if it's just for a short visit."

Tristan smiled warmly. "It's good to be here, Mom. I've missed you all."

Claire, holding a glass of wine, grinned at him. "Big brother, we saw your lecture online. You were amazing."

"The work you're doing is incredible, Tristan. We're so proud of you," Amelia added, her eyes shining with admiration.

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