The Forbidden Throb Chapter 44

Emma's POV:

I let my hand relax in his, and something in Daniel's posture eased slightly.

The small, treacherous flutter in my chest—I pushed it down, refused to acknowledge it.

We walked through the hospital corridors together, and I became acutely aware of the eyes that followed us.

Nurses froze mid-charting. A resident nearly walked into a medicine cart. I caught fragments of whispered conversations.

"Wait, is Dr. Prescott actually with someone?"

"I've worked here three years and never seen him with anyone."

"She's pretty. Who is she?"

"Wait—are those matching rings?"

"Oh my God, look at their hands!"

I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, trying to ignore the weight of all that attention.

As we passed through the lobby, I caught sight of a familiar face.

Jenny.

The nurse who'd processed my discharge paperwork last time.

She was standing by the information desk, mid-conversation with another nurse, but her eyes locked onto us immediately.

Her expression was priceless—shock melting into vindication, her mouth forming a small "o" of surprise.

*I knew it,* her face seemed to say. *I knew there was something between you.*

I felt heat creep up my neck.

*Perfect,* I thought with a sinking feeling. *By the end of the day, the entire hospital will know.*

The moment we reached his car, I reached for the back door handle, instinctively seeking the refuge of the back seat—away from the windows, away from prying eyes.

The door wouldn't open.

Before I could try again, Daniel pulled open the passenger door with a gentle click.

"You're going to have to get used to the front seat," he said quietly, and I caught the faint curve of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

I settled into the passenger seat, my cheeks still warm. *This is going to take some getting used to,* I thought ruefully.

"Sorry," I said softly.

"Don't apologize." His tone was calm, almost gentle. "It's a normal reaction."

He drove us to a restaurant nearby—an intimate Italian place with exposed brick walls and candlelit tables tucked into cozy corners.

I studied the menu carefully, eventually settling on a modest caprese salad and chicken piccata. Two dishes. Nothing excessive.

Daniel barely glanced at his menu before closing it.

When the waiter came, he ordered: "The burrata appetizer, pappardelle with wild mushrooms, the sea bass, and a side of roasted asparagus."

I froze. Every single one of those was something I loved. Things I would have ordered myself if I weren't being so careful.

"Emma?" Daniel's voice pulled me back. "Something wrong?"

"No, just—" I managed a small smile. "We have similar tastes, apparently."

A faint smile touched his lips, but he didn't elaborate. "Then don't hold back." He glanced at the menu the waiter had left behind. "You took the bus back—I'm sure you didn't have time for a decent lunch either."

I looked at him, genuinely surprised. Did he actually consider these? Aside from my grandmother, no one ever really cared about that.

It reminded me of how Matthew treated Olivia. Always checking if she'd eaten, ordering extra food when they went out, sending her those annoying but endearing "don't forget lunch" texts.

Olivia would grumble and call him overprotective, but I'd seen the way her face softened when she thought no one was looking.

Nicholas had never done that.

*Maybe he just wasn't that kind of boyfriend,* I thought. *Or maybe I just wasn't that kind of girlfriend—the kind worth fussing over.*

I took a bite of the burrata, and the creamy richness melted on my tongue.

There was something unsettling about accepting Daniel's consideration—like I was receiving compensation for something that didn't belong to me, filling a deficit.

Guilt twisted alongside the warmth in my chest.

"Have you thought about moving out of the dorms?" Daniel's voice cut through my thoughts.

I choked slightly on the burrata, reaching for my water glass. "Moving out?"

"We're married now," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "It makes sense for you to move in with me."

My first instinct was to refuse. "I couldn't—that would be too much trouble for you."

"It's not trouble." Daniel's tone was matter-of-fact. "Besides, Boston University has a policy about married students. You're not supposed to live in the dorms anymore."

I paused. Right. I'd forgotten about that rule.

And the reality was, I couldn't afford my own apartment right now. Not with my finances the way they were.

"I... okay," I said quietly, feeling my cheeks warm slightly.

Then, anxiously: "But I don't have much stuff. Really. Just a few boxes. I won't take up too much space."

The words came out in a rush, defensive.

I thought of that first day at Robert's house—how he had made it clear I was an inconvenience, how my belongings had felt like an invasion of their carefully ordered home.

Daniel's expression softened slightly. "Emma. I live alone. There's plenty of our home."

*Our home.* The casual way he said it.

Something warm flickered in my chest, fragile and uncertain.

---

The drive back to Boston University was quiet.

The kind of silence that didn't demand filling. I watched the city lights blur past the window, Daniel's hands steady on the wheel, and realized something that both comforted and unsettled me.

I was getting used to this. To him.

It was starting to feel natural.

*Is that good or bad?* I wondered, but didn't have an answer.

Daniel pulled up to the curb outside my dorm building, the engine purring softly as he shifted into park.

"Thank you for dinner," I said, reaching for the door handle.

"Emma."

I paused, glancing back.

"Let me know once you've packed everything. I'll come pick you up."

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Okay."

I stepped out onto the sidewalk, adjusting my bag on my shoulder—and froze.

Tom Brown stood about twenty feet away, leaning against the wall near the entrance—clearly waiting for someone. His eyes widened as they landed on me, then tracked past me to the car I'd just emerged from.

Daniel's Mercedes. Still idling at the curb, sleek and unmistakably expensive.

Tom's mouth opened slightly, surprise written clearly across his face.

My mind raced through the inevitable chain of events. Tom would tell Nicholas. They told each other everything—had been inseparable since freshman year.

Nicholas would know I'd gotten married soon. With Daniel.

I'd always known that would happen eventually, but I hadn't expected it to happen this fast.