A Cozy Afternoon with Doc part one

Returning to Doc’s place felt like exhaling for the first time in weeks. The quiet, the warmth, the little touches that made his home feel like a haven, it was everything I didn’t know I needed. But most of all, it was being back with Anthony that made my heart settle. Holding him close, hearing his laughter, nursing him back into his rhythm… it felt like reclaiming a part of myself.

We slipped into an easy flow—silly stories, soft lullabies, snuggles that stretched into the afternoon. After a long feed and some persistent burping, Anthony finally surrendered to sleep. I tucked him in gently and followed the soft hum of music and clinking glass into the kitchen.

Doc was there, smiling like he’d been waiting just for me.

“Fancy a mimosa, darling?” he asked, his voice teasing but tender.

“Why not? I’m game,” I said, smiling back.

He wasn’t really a mimosa kind of man, but he poured those golden flutes like it was second nature. He always had a way of creating little pockets of joy, even when everything else felt uncertain. The bubbles were gentle on my healing throat, the drink light and sunny—just like the moment. On the counter, a beautiful charcuterie board waited, filled with rich cheeses, savory meats, and ripe fruit. It was indulgent, generous—just like him.

We sat side by side, shoulders touching, hearts slowly unwinding. Talk drifted to what came next—Tio’s trial, my future, the world we were trying to re-enter. We spoke carefully around Tio’s name; the truth about Anthony’s paternity lived quietly between Kay and me, and I wasn’t ready to share it beyond that. Doc asked if I’d go back to work. I shook my head. Not yet. Not when I’d just gotten my son back. The financial freedom I had was a private gift, one I wasn’t ready to explain.

While I was still in the hospital, recovering, a representative from the prosecutor’s office had come by, asking me to testify. I told them no. Kay was hesitant at first but ultimately decided she would take the stand. Instead, I wrote a letter. A truth-laced, vulnerable letter. It wasn’t a testimony; it was a window into everything I’d lived through—why I kept Anthony away from Tio, how I placed my trust in others when I couldn’t be there myself. It wasn’t easy, but it was honest.

The weight of it all hung between us as our conversation slowed. My heart dipped into those familiar shadows, and Doc noticed—of course, he noticed. He reached out, pulled me gently into his arms, and held me close, like he could keep the past from touching me if he just held on tightly enough.

“What do you need?” he asked, his voice low, steady.

I looked up at him, my hand resting against his chest. “You already know.”

His gaze softened. “How much time do we have?”

“Until tomorrow night.”

He smiled, then kissed my hand. “Let’s go to my room. It’s closer.”

He called out to Joe to keep an eye on the baby monitor, then led me down the hall. Once the door shut behind us, the world narrowed—quiet, safe, sacred. He kissed me like I was something precious. We moved with unspoken understanding, slow and intimate, rediscovering each other without rushing. It wasn’t just about desire, it was about reconnecting, rebuilding.

In that space between heartbeats and whispered names, something old and something new began to entwine. We weren’t just touching skin, we were touching history, pain, healing, and hope.

When I tried to shift us, he stilled me.

“No, baby,” he whispered. “Tonight is about you.”

“But—” I started to protest, lost in the sensation.

“No buts,” he murmured, brushing hair from my face. “Just let go.”

And I did.

Afterward, wrapped in each other, we held on—his arms around me, my legs still tangled with his. There was a quiet that followed, a stillness that felt both peaceful and charged.

“We shouldn’t have,” I whispered. “But I don’t regret it.”

Doc’s voice was soft against my ear. “It’s done. And if it means a future with you, then I’m all in.”

“Do you love me?” I asked, surprised at how shaky my voice sounded.

“I do,” he said without hesitation.

“Enough to marry me if I’m pregnant?”

“Enough to marry you either way,” he replied, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. “But yes… I hope we are.”

A complicated warmth bloomed in my chest—part love, part fear, part something in between.

“We still have time before Anthony wakes up,” I whispered.

“Then come back to bed,” he said, smiling as he brushed his lips over mine. “But soon, he’ll need to be weaned.”

“Only when he’s ready,” I replied softly.

Doc didn’t push. He just nodded, understanding. We spent the next few hours in each other’s arms, sometimes tangled in sheets, sometimes in quiet conversation. When we were finally still, I lay with my hips slightly elevated, more out of habit than anything else. It wasn’t about the future anymore, it was about the present, the now.

Eventually, I slipped out of bed, showered, and got dressed. Doc was still asleep. As soon as I reached the bottom step, I heard the small, excited feet of my son.

“Mama! Mama! I missed you!” Anthony squealed as he ran into my arms. “Uncle Joe and I played games!”

“Hey, sweetie. I missed you too,” I said, scooping him up carefully despite the pain that still flared where I’d been shot. “What kind of games?”

Anthony launched into a babbling monologue, full of joy only toddlers can pull off. We headed to the kitchen for snacks, where Joe greeted me. Things were a little awkward—understandably—but I gave him a hug and thanked him for watching Anthony.

“Where’s Dada?” Anthony asked suddenly.

“Who?” I blinked.

“Dada! The old guy!”

I glanced at Joe, who looked sheepish. “Sorry, Andrea. I tried to explain he’s just a friend…”

“It’s okay, Joe,” I said quietly. “He’ll be down soon. He’s just tired.”

Anthony ran off, and Joe gave me a knowing look. I shrugged, then told him—maybe for my own benefit—that Doc and I were planning to get married if I was pregnant.

Doc’s voice came from behind me, warm and certain. “Oh, we’ll marry either way. This time, it’s real.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned into him… but something in me hesitated. I loved him—his kindness, his steadiness, the way he showed up when I needed it most. But I wasn’t sure if it was the kind of love that builds forever. I was still nursing the ache of Tio’s betrayal, still healing parts of my heart I hadn’t even named yet.

I wanted to believe in new beginnings. I just wasn’t sure I was ready for one yet.