Page 76 of A Prescription to My Heart

“Mommy! Daddy! Come look!”

And as I hear her laughter, as I see her little face lighting up with joy, I realize something. This is where I’m meant to be. This is my family.

I turn to Talia, and for the first time, I see her smiling—really smiling. Her eyes are soft, full of warmth, full of love. And I know, without a doubt, that this is where we belong.

Together.

Epilogue

It’sthelittlethingsthat stay with me. The scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen before the sun fully rises. The sound of Marigold’s laughter floating down the hallway. The gentle weight of Soren’s arm wrapped around my waist as we lie in bed, hearts beating in quiet rhythm.

This is what peace feels like. Not loud, not perfect. Just steady. Real.

It’s been three months since I stopped pretending. Since I stopped running from the truth that had already wrapped itself around every part of me. Loving Soren wasn’t something I planned. It happened like the slow bloom of spring—unassuming, patient, inevitable.

Later, as I stand at the edge of our back porch, Marigold chasing butterflies in the yard, Soren humming off-key in the kitchen as he attempts blueberry pancakes again, I know I made the right choice. The only choice.

“Mommy!” Marigold calls, waving her arms wildly, a dandelion in her hand. “Make a wish!”

I walk toward her, sinking into the damp grass, my dress fluttering in the breeze. She holds out the fluffy stem to me, eyes wide with expectation.

“What should I wish for?” I ask her gently.

She doesn’t even pause. “Wish for forever!”

My throat tightens. I crouch to her level, brushing a stray hair from her cheek. “I already have everything I could possibly want.”

She giggles and presses a sticky kiss to my cheek before sprinting away again.

When I look up, Soren’s watching us from the doorway, dish towel over his shoulder, a quiet smile on his face. That smile—the one he used to guard like a secret—is now mine. He walks toward me slowly, barefoot in the grass, and when he reaches me, he tucks the dandelion behind my ear like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“I burned the pancakes,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“You always do,” I tease, leaning into his warmth.

“But you still love me,” he whispers into my hair.

I turn in his arms to face him. “Fiercely,” I whisper back.

We stand there for a moment—no lies, no act, no pretending. Just us. A man who thought he’d forgotten how to open his heart. A woman who feared love that wasn’t built to last. And a little girl who somehow brought us both back to life.

This wasn’t the plan. But this... this is home.

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