She could not measure eighteen years of regret in a single conversation.
But she could recognize that Helena was not asking her to pretend the past had been different.
“Do you still speak to Lucas?” Emma asked.
“Occasionally.”
“Where is he?”
“He lives in another city.”
“Does he have children?”
Helena hesitated.
“Yes. He has a family.”
Emma looked away.
The information produced a feeling she struggled to identify.
It was not jealousy.
It was not longing.
Perhaps it was simply the strange realization that someone connected to one of the hardest chapters of her life had continued living an ordinary existence elsewhere.
“What does he know about this meeting?” Emma asked.
“He knows that you contacted me.”
“And?”
“He said it was your decision.”
Emma gave a small, humorless laugh.
“That's convenient.”
Helena did not disagree.
“I cannot speak for him,” she said. “And I won't make excuses for his choices.”
