Page 73 of A Prescription to My Heart

I swallow hard, my heart still thudding a little too fast. "Of course." I try to sound convincing, but there’s a crack in my voice that betrays me.

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I manage a smile as I watch Marigold curl up with the yarn I’d been fiddling with in my living room, her laughter ringing in the quiet house. The silence between us is there, but it’s more comfortable than it was before. It's as if we both know the routine—she’s here, and I’m here, and we’ll get through the day together.

Soren had left a few minutes ago, his parting words lingering in the air. “I’ll pick her up later. Please, take care of her.”

I’d nodded and watched him go, suddenly feeling bereft.

I keep telling myself I made the right decision—moving out, giving myself space. But every passing minute, every smile from Marigold, only makes me question it.

Marigold is still fiddling with the yarn as if trying to make sense of it. She’s so sweet, so open. Her little voice carries through the house, and I can’t help but listen.

Then, out of nowhere, she looks up at me, her big brown eyes wide and full of trust. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

The word hits me like a punch in the chest.Mommy. I freeze, my hand shocked still in the air as I was reaching for the box of crackers on the counter. I turn slowly, trying to process what I just heard.

Marigold’s face is innocent, confused even. But at my reaction. She’s not aware of the weight of her words. She doesn’t know what it means. It’s just a slip, but it’s enough to shatter the fragile control I’ve been holding on to.

“What did you say?” My voice is softer than I mean it to be.

She tilts her head, blinking at me like she’s trying to make sense of my reaction. “Mommy. I want a snack, please.”

The word rings in my ears. My heart starts to beat faster, a sharp ache forming in my chest. It’s not supposed to be this way. She’s not mine. I’m not her mother. But somehow, in that moment, it feels like I am.

I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to smile. “You want a snack?” I try to sound calm, but my hands are trembling. “Of course, Goldie. Let’s get you something.”

But my hands aren’t steady enough, and I nearly knock over a glass on the counter. I reach for it quickly, setting it upright, but the damage has been done. The moment is broken, and I can feel the tears building up in my eyes.

Marigold doesn’t notice. She’s already back to playing with the yarn. But for me, her words linger.

Mommy.

I feel the walls closing in on me. How did we get here? How did I let myself get so close to this little girl who’s not even mine?

I make her snack, but it’s hard to focus. My mind is spiraling. I tell myself it’s fine. It’s just a slip-up. But the truth is, it isn’t. I’m not fine. I can’t just ignore what I’m feeling anymore.

When the doorbell rings, I jump, startled by the noise. I glance at Marigold. She’s still playing, her attention now on something else—the dolls she’s brought with her.

I walk toward the door, wiping my face quickly, making sure there are no tears. When I open it, my heart lurches.

Soren. He’s back.

He looks at me closely, and something shifts in his gaze. He notices the tension in my body, the tightness in my jaw.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.

I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know how to explain this feeling that’s twisting inside me.

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile. But it doesn’t reach my eyes.

He doesn’t buy it. He’s too perceptive. “You’re not fine.”

Before I can reply, Marigold runs up to him, grinning, holding up her snack with both hands. “Look, Daddy! I made a big sandwich for you!”

Soren smiles at her, but his gaze flicks back to me, the question still there, hovering in the air. What’s wrong?

I can’t do it. I can’t hide it anymore. I’ve been trying to fight it for so long, trying to pretend that what I feel doesn’t matter. But I can’t. Not anymore.

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