For the Record

IX - We're Not There Yet

Sofia – "I didn't want the quiet with him to feel like home again."

The outreach clinic had finally settled into evening calm.

Volunteers were trickling out, the sky turning that warm, golden blue that makes everything look softer than it should.

Sofia was in the supply room, half-organizing, half-hiding. She didn't like the way her chest felt lately — light, then heavy, then warm. Like something old was being shaken loose.

She heard footsteps.

Turned.

It was Jake.

He had a clipboard in one hand and a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

"I'm just here to drop the patient logs," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "You could've left them on the table."

Jake shrugged. "Was hoping for air-conditioning. And maybe a chair."

Sofia gestured to the dusty stool beside her.

He sat.

For a minute, neither of them said anything.

The silence stretched — not hostile, just... tentative.

She glanced over.

"You're not leaving anytime soon, are you?"

Jake exhaled. "No."

She nodded, slowly.

Then, almost absently, she said, "Summer likes her hot chocolate extra sweet. You got lucky."

Jake looked at her. Blinked.

Then smiled.

"I'll remember that."

Another pause.

"She likes sketching," Sofia added. "Mostly girls with capes or wings. She says they're not superheroes. Just girls trying really hard."

Jake's voice went quiet. "She's... amazing."

Sofia looked away. "She's her own person. Smart. Brave. Stubborn."

He turned to her. "Sounds familiar."

A breath caught in her throat.

She hated how easy it was to fall into this — soft words, shared memories of someone they both loved more than they understood.

"She still sleeps with a night-light," Sofia said before she could stop herself. "Even though she pretends she doesn't. I let her. Just in case."

Jake's voice cracked. "Thank you... for keeping her safe."

Sofia finally looked at him — really looked.

He wasn't the boy she left.

The edges were worn now. His confidence quieter. His smile a little more earned.

"I didn't do it for you," she said gently.

"I know."

She stood, brushing invisible lint off her scrub pants.

"We're not there yet, Jake."

"I'm not asking us to be."

"Good."

But she didn't tell him to leave.

And he didn't move.

And for the first time since their worlds collided again, they sat in silence that didn't hurt.