I smiled through my tears.
“That sounds like her.”
Arthur nodded.
“She didn’t trust me immediately. She asked why I’d disappeared and whether I’d tried to find you.”
“That sounds like her.”
“And you told her?”
“Everything. Including where I went wrong.”
Emma gradually began visiting.
At first, she visited once every few months.
Later, she visited almost every week.
She helped him shop, planted flowers with him, and celebrated his birthdays.
“And you told her?”
“And she never told me,” I whispered, tearing up.
“She told me she wanted to. But whenever she mentioned me, you became upset.”
I remembered those conversations.
Emma had occasionally asked whether I regretted never seeing my father again.
I’d always told her to leave the past alone.
“She told me she wanted to.”
“Why didn’t she tell me after getting sick?”
“I guess she was afraid you’d feel betrayed while dealing with her illness.”
