When HEROES don't come HOME

Chapter Sixteen – Coffee and Promises

The café was alive with noise.

The hiss of steaming milk. The rattle of cups stacked behind the counter. A burst of laughter from a group of students huddled near the door. The late sunlight poured through the tall windows, gilding the wooden tables and throwing soft shadows across the floor.

Emily sat by the window, jacket folded neatly on the back of her chair, her hands wrapped around a cup that was already cooling. She watched the street outside—people walking quickly, couples leaning close, children tugging their parents along—and for the first time in weeks she felt something close to ordinary. Almost invisible. Not soldier. Not widow. Not a woman with files hidden under the bed and questions sharper than knives.

Just someone waiting for a friend.

The door chimed, and there she was. Sofia.

She pushed her scarf down, shaking the wind from her hair, scanning the room until her eyes found Emily. A smile bloomed across her face, small but genuine, and she hurried over, sliding into the chair across from her.

“God,” Sofia exhaled, brushing her hair back. “It feels like forever.”

Emily’s lips curved faintly. “It does.”

The waitress appeared, and Sofia ordered a cappuccino, extra foam. Emily already had her black coffee, bitter and untouched. They sat for a while speaking of nothing: the weather turning cold, a neighbor’s dog that barked all night, the movies Sofia half-watched on streaming before falling asleep. The chatter wrapped around them like a soft blanket, giving them permission to breathe.

But then Sofia’s smile dimmed. Her fingers toyed with the spoon on the saucer.

“I need to tell you something,” she said quietly.

Emily tilted her head.

“I’ve been seeing someone,” Sofia admitted, her voice low as though the words were contraband. “A man. For a few months now.”

Emily blinked, surprised.

“I didn’t say anything,” Sofia hurried on, eyes dropping to her cup. “Because of… everything. It felt wrong. You losing Daniel. The baby. How could I sit here and tell you I was happy? It felt selfish. Shallow. Like a betrayal.”

Emily reached across the table, resting her hand gently over Sofia’s. “Sofia. You don’t have to feel guilty for living. For loving someone. Do you hear me? You don’t owe me your silence.”

Sofia’s eyes filled with tears she quickly blinked away. “I didn’t want you to think I was—”

“—leaving me behind?” Emily finished softly.

Sofia nodded, her lips pressing tight.

Emily squeezed her hand. “You’re my friend. That doesn’t change. I’m glad you have someone. Truly.”

Sofia let out a shaky breath, relief loosening her shoulders.

“But I need to say this,” Emily continued, her gaze fixed on the dark surface of her coffee. “Daniel’s death shook me. It cut me down. But I survived it easier than I thought I would. What broke me was losing the baby. That was the wound I don’t think I’ll ever heal.”

Sofia’s hand gripped hers tighter.

“I wake up at night,” Emily whispered. “Not reaching for Daniel. Reaching for something that was never born. That’s what haunts me.”

For a moment the café noise fell away, the chatter fading into a hollow echo.

Then Emily drew a breath, steadied herself. “But the investigation keeps me upright. It fills the space where grief tries to live. And I’m not doing it alone anymore.”

Sofia leaned forward. “Reeves.”

Emily looked up, startled, then allowed a rueful smile. “Yes. Reeves.”

Sofia’s brows arched, curious. “Tell me about him.”

Emily chuckled softly. “What’s there to tell? He’s rough. Drinks too much. Dresses like a man who doesn’t care what anyone thinks. He’s sarcastic. Bitter.”

“And yet,” Sofia teased, “you just said his name like it mattered.”

Emily shrugged. “Because it does. He listens. He doesn’t lie to make me feel better. He doesn’t treat me like glass. With him, I can breathe. That’s rare these days.”

Sofia tilted her head, studying her friend. “And is it just about the case?”

Emily frowned. “Of course it is.”

“Are you sure?” Sofia asked gently.

Emily’s mouth opened, then closed. She gave a half-smile, half-sigh. “What else would it be?”

Sofia smiled faintly, sipping her cappuccino. “Nothing. Just making sure you know your own answer.”

They laughed softly together, the tension easing.

But Sofia wasn’t done. She asked about Reeves’s age, his habits, how he carried himself. She wanted details: how he looked when he spoke, if his eyes softened when he smiled, if Emily trusted him completely. Emily answered each question without hesitation, realizing only later how much she was revealing.

“He’s not a man you bring home to meet your parents,” Emily said at one point, smirking. “But he’s the man you want with you when everything else falls apart.”

Sofia’s smile widened knowingly.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. It’s not like that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Sofia replied. “But he matters to you. I can see it. Maybe that’s enough.”

The conversation drifted. They spoke of their lives before—memories of nights when they met in cafés just like this one, laughing about work, about silly neighbors, about nothing at all. How different it felt now, how everything around them had shifted.

Finally Emily’s smile faded. She looked down at her coffee, her voice barely above a whisper.

“There’s something else.”

Sofia’s brows knitted. “What is it?”

Emily took a long breath. “Daniel’s parents. After the funeral. They came to see me in the hospital. They asked me to promise them something. To find the truth. To see it through to the end. They begged me not to let it be buried under lies.”

Sofia’s chest ached just hearing it. “And you said yes.”

“I gave them my word,” Emily said, her eyes dark. “And I can’t disappoint them. No matter what it costs me. I have to finish this.”

The café noise swelled around them again—clinking cups, bursts of laughter, the hiss of steam. But for Emily and Sofia, the world had narrowed to a table, two cups of coffee, and the weight of a vow.

Sofia reached across, gripping her hand tightly. “Then we’ll finish it. Together. However I can help.”

Emily nodded, her throat too tight for words.

For a moment they sat in silence, the chaos of the café wrapping them in a strange cocoon of normalcy. Outside, people hurried past the windows, carrying groceries, talking on phones, living lives untouched by hidden experiments and silenced soldiers.

Emily watched them, then looked back at Sofia. “I don’t know where this ends. But I know I don’t get to stop. Not anymore.”

And Sofia squeezed her hand again, silent promise in her eyes.