Page 17 of A Prescription to My Heart

Marigold pipes up before Talia can respond. “Dad doesn’t like change. That’s why we always eat the same three takeout meals.”

I give her a flat look. “I like efficiency.”

“You like boring,” Marigold counters. “This iswaybetter than pizza, or whatever dry sandwich you usually bring home.”

Talia raises a brow. “Dry sandwich?”

Marigold nods, dramatic. “Like,sodry. He never puts enough mayo.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, we’re done talking about my sandwiches.”

But Talia grins, clearly enjoying my torment.

Marigold sighs, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Youhaveto come back, Talia. Nina’s so flaky and Dad’ssoboring.”

“I don’t know, kid. Your dad might kick me out next time.”

Marigold swivels to face me, eyes wide and pleading. “Youwon’tkick her out, right?”

“Marigold—” I start with a scowl, but my daughter may be the only person alive immune to my authority.

For the moment.

“Promise,” Marigold insists. “Promise she can come back.”

Talia lets out a low laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t have to pressure your dad.”

“Yes, I do,” Marigold says, determined. She turns back to me. “Dad. Promise.”

I exhale sharply. Talia is watching me, waiting, her lips twitching like she knows I’m cornered.

I rub a hand over my jaw. “Fine. I'll think about it.”

“Yes!” Marigold squeals in victory.

Talia shakes her head, grinning. “You’re relentless, kid.”

“I justreallylike you.”

Something flickers across Talia’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer. She reaches over and gently squeezes Marigold’s hand. “I like you too.” “I’ve never had anyone this fun around before.”

The words hit harder than they should.

I glance at her plate, then at the way her shoulders are relaxed, her expression open in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. My chest tightens.

Lisa was the last person to bring this kind of light into her life.

And now it’s Talia.

Of all people…

I shove back from the table. “Dinner’s over.”

Talia blinks at my sudden shift, but she doesn’t push. She helps Marigold clear the dishes, chatting like this isn’t the mistake it is.

She lingers at the door when it’s time to go.

Marigold wraps her arms around her waist, squeezing tight. “Youwillcome back, right?”

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