The horrible truth was she hadn’t wanted that—not really. She’d nodded as he’d said the words, seeing that his mind was apparently made up, but her heart had been screaming. Begging him to stay, willing him to ignore everything she’d said and just be with her.
He’d driven away only an hour after they’d spoken, and the sense of grief and loss had almost eclipsed anything she’d felt since her father had died.
He’d messaged her every second day over the fortnight since he’d left but she hadn’t replied. Not because she’d wanted to be childish or to punish him, but because she had no idea what to say. How to express feelings that she couldn’t even comprehend herself. The grief, the betrayal, the disbelief. The worry that he’d been pushed into a marriage he’d never wanted. That she’d been falling in love while he’d been making do. The worry that she’d never be able to trust that there had been truth in any of their interactions.
She slipped behind the wheel of her car, her expression bleak as she started the engine and began to make her way into town.
The Bowerbird Lounge was doing a roaring trade, despite the fact it was a grey November day. The tables outside featured patrons wrapped in brightly coloured blankets, and the heaters beneath the awnings were on and glowing warm.
As she’d expected, Sophie was nowhere to be seen, but their reserved table was available so Emmeline took a seat and ordered a Diet Coke. She enjoyed people-watching. With her dark sunglasses firmly in place, she gave herself the freedom of scanning the room, watching the guests and catching snippets of conversation.
Ten minutes later her phone began to buzz and she reached into her clutch, pulling it out and answering it when she saw Sophie’s face beaming back at her from the screen.
‘Hey, hon, I’m just looking for a space. I’ll be a few minutes, okay?’
‘That’s fine,’ Emmeline murmured.
‘Seriously... What the hell? There’s no spaces on this whole damn block.’ Sophie made a grunting noise of complaint and Emmeline smiled, tinkering with the clip on her purse.
A piece of the lining, old and fine, ran across her fingertip. She tried to pull it straight, then realised it wasn’t the lining at all. It was a piece of paper, folded several times, with her name on the front.
Her heart was pounding so hard and fast that she could no longer hear the din of the restaurant. She disconnected the call and dropped her phone to the table, her fingers shaking as she unfolded the letter. The letter she’d thrust into her bag on the morning of the funeral and forgotten about.
How had she forgotten? Disbelief raged inside her as she sat, ready to read whatever the note contained.
Her dad’s handwriting was barely recognisable to Emmeline. It was spidery and fine, weak and pale.
Pumpkin...
Emmeline felt tears sting her eyes. She could hear Col’s voice so clearly. She sucked in a deep breath and kept reading.
At the end of one’s life I suppose it’s natural to reflect. On choices, decisions, roads not taken. Having you as a daughter is the best thing I’ve ever done, but I wonder now if I’ve done it all wrong. Have I failed you? More than likely. That’s hard for me to admit, because I have always tried to do everything in my power to make your life a good and rich one.
I didn’t want to lose you so I kept you close, and I got in the way of you living your own life. I’ve been selfish.
These last few months...knowing you to be in Rome, on the brink of so much excitement in your life, so happy with Pietro... I have finally seen you as you should have been all along. Your happiness and independence is the most precious gift I have ever received. I wish I could have helped you find them sooner.
I know my death will have come as a surprise. But while I know you are shocked, you must know that I wanted it this way. Please don’t be angry with me for keeping my diagnosis from you. I wanted to spare you as much pain as possible, and I know you would have deferred your own pleasure and adventures to stay close to me. You’ve done far too much of that already.
Pietro disagreed with my decision, but he was faithful to the last. I am grateful to him for upholding my confidence even when he felt strongly that you would prefer to know the truth. Sparing you the pain of seeing me as I’ve become is my last gift to you—and it is a gift, Pumpkin. I am not this man.
I hope you can both forgive me for making him stay the course. Or perhaps I have been selfish to the last.
Be happy together. He is a good man and he loves you very much.
As do I.
Forever,
Daddy
Emeline didn’t realise she was sobbing until the young girl at the table beside her reached across with a tissue.