Page 43 of A Prescription to My Heart

But Soren…

I squeeze my eyes shut, frustration curling inside me.

I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to sit here and wonder what it would be like… to fall for a man like him.

A man who doesn’t just provide, but shows up. Who loves his daughter with an intensity that’s almost overwhelming. Who must have loved his late wife the same way.

I grew up watching my father love my mother that way. She was his world. He’d come home from work, pull her into his arms like they hadn’t seen each other in years. He never forgot a birthday, never missed a chance to make her laugh.

That kind of love—the steady, unwavering kind—I always thought I’d have that one day. But life had other plans.

Now, lying here in the dark, feeling the soft rise and fall of Marigold’s breath, I can’t help but wonder:What if?

What if I let myself fall? What if I listened to that unsettled feeling, the building in my chest—the way my heart quickens when he looks at me with those dark eyes?

A light touch against my face startles me.

My eyes fly open, expecting to see Marigold stirring beside me, but instead, I find Soren.

He towers over me, his face half-shadowed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. His fingers are still in my hair, frozen mid-motion where he just tucked a stray tress of hair away. I never heard him return.

I don’t move.

Neither does he.

The silence between us thickens, stretching impossibly long. His eyes, dark and unreadable, stay locked on mine. There’s something in them—something that makes my pulse skip.

I try to swallow, but my throat is suddenly too dry.

"I thought you left," I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

His fingers pull back slowly, grazing my temple, and my skin burns where he touched it.

“I did,” he says, low and rough. “But I came back.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Because I don’t understand why his voice makes my stomach tighten. Why his presence makes my skin hum with awareness.

I should look away. I should move. Leave. But I don’t.

Ican’t.

All I can think about is how close he is. How the space between us feels charged, thick with something I don’t want to name.

Marigold sighs softly in her sleep, tucking tighter against my side, and it breaks the spell. Just enough for reality to snap back into place.

I am lying in this man’s daughter’s bed. While his eyes watch me down like I’m something he can’t quite figure out.

And it hits me all at once:I’m in trouble.

Chapter 10

Soren

Idon’tgetmuchsleep.

Not because of the storm or Marigold, but because of Talia.

I woke up in the middle of the night, out of habit, and found myself walking to Marigold’s room. She hates thunderstorms, but I was surprised when she didn’t come running into my room at the first thunderclap. I thought maybe he’d outgrown her old fear.

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