Page 32 of A Prescription to My Heart

“We’ll be taking it from here,” Dr. Savoie interrupts. And I think he might argue—a hot flash of frustration on his face. But, incredibly, Soren steps back.

“It’s okay, Goldie,” he says. “This is Dr. Savoie, and she’s going to take care of you. Won’t you?”

I tense. That last part didn’t sound like a suggestion.

“Of course,” Dr. Savoie says, already swinging into action. “Hi, Marigold. It’s nice to meet you. So, you hurt your head?”

Marigold nods.

I step forward. “Let me help.”

“Sure. Grab some gloves, Vance,” Dr. Savoie says, shining a light briefly in Marigold’s eyes to check her pupils.

Soren glances at me, as if just realizing I’m here. For a second, he looks like he might argue, but then he exhales, nodding once.

I do as told, stepping forward. “Let’s get you fixed up, Goldie.”

Marigold perks up slightly. “You know my nickname?”

“Of course. You’re the most important patient I’ve seen all day.”

She grins at that, but Soren barely reacts. His entire focus is on his daughter. His eyes track every move I make as Savoie’s nurse and I take her vitals, watching like a hawk as we check her balance and eye movement. His hands remain close—hovering, ready to steady her if she so much as wobbles.

“She’s doing okay,” Dr. Savoie finally says. “No signs of a concussion, but we should monitor her.”

Soren exhales, just slightly. His fingers press against his temple for half a second before he drops his hand. But he doesn’t relax. Not fully.

I watch him carefully.

I’ve seen Soren in the OR—focused, coldly efficient, demanding perfection from everyone around him. I’ve seen him storm through the hospital like he owns the place. But this?

This is different.

This is a man terrified of losing the most important person in his world. A man who, for all his arrogance and steel… is just a dad.

And that realization makes my chest ache in a way I don’t expect.

For all his closed-off approach, for all his gruffness, Soren is just a father who loves his daughter beyond reason. It unsettles me, the lump in my throat, the warmth curling around my chest. I shouldn’t feel this way.

Still, I look at him—exhausted, hovering, running on sheer will—and I can’t help myself.

“Soren,” I say softly.

His head snaps toward me, the sharp focus in his gaze unyielding.

“You need a break.”

His brows pull together. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” I argue. “You haven’t sat down once. You’ve barely even blinked.”

“I—”

“Go back to your office,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “I’ll finish up here.”

Soren’s jaw tightens, reluctance flickering across his features.

I soften my tone. “She’s okay now. I just need to run a few more checks, keep an eye on her for a bit longer. You trust me, don’t you?”

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