At My Engagement Dinner, a Barefoot Little Girl Pointed at My Fiancée’s Ring—Then She Called My Wife, Dead for Five Years, Her Mother
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Chapter 15 / 30
Chapter 15 - Emma’s Letters
Emma had written to me.
Dozens of letters.
None arrived.
Nora kept copies of seven.
Dear Damon, I don’t understand why you won’t answer.
Another:
Lily kicked today. I wish you could feel it.
Another, written after Lily’s birth:
She has your eyes. I tell her about you even though I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.
I stopped reading.
There are forms of grief that make noise.
Others simply empty a person.
I had lost Lily’s birth.
First word.
First step.
First birthday.
Five entire years.
Emma sat opposite me.
“I thought you chose not to come.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“How can you even look at me?”
She seemed surprised.
“Because you were lied to too.”
I looked down at the letters.
“Who intercepted them?”
“Victoria took some.”
“And the others?”
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“Richard.”
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