Julian paused. “When I saw that scrapbook photo, I should have told Lila immediately. I was afraid she would think I had used her to find you.”
“Did you?” my daughter asked.
“No,” he said. “I loved you before I knew.”
I looked at the letter.
“Read it,” Lila whispered.
I opened it.
“I loved you before I knew.
***
“My Em,
If this reaches you, then my son did what I couldn’t.
I didn’t leave you on prom night.
I came to your house after the dance, just like I promised. Your mother met me on the porch. She had your locket in her hand. She told me you had come to your senses.
She said you were embarrassed by me and that I would drag you down if I loved you enough to stay.
I didn’t believe her at first.
Then she gave me that locket.”
“I didn’t leave you.
***
“No,” I whispered.
Lila put an arm around me.
I continued reading.
***
“I wrote to you, Emily.
Every week at first. Then every month. The letters came back unopened, or they didn’t come back at all.
Years later, I went to your old house. A neighbor told me you had moved away.
I thought you hated me.
“I wrote to you, Emily.
I should have fought harder. That is the regret I carried. Not loving you. Never that.
If you can forgive anything, forgive the boy who believed a grown woman because he was too young to understand control dressed up as concern.
I still have your locket. I kept it because it was proof that one night, before everything broke, you chose me.
Yours,
Leo.”
***
I sat before my legs gave out.
Lila wiped her cheeks as I grabbed my phone and dialed.
“I should have fought harder.
“Who are you calling, Mom?”
“My mother.”
Ruth answered on the fourth ring. “Emily? It’s late. Why are you calling?”
“Did Leo leave me, or did you make him?”
Silence.
“This isn’t a conversation for the phone,” she said.
“Good. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning.”
