Emma looked at Will, his head in his hands. She wanted to explain more to him than that one sentence.
She would if he wanted to hear. Sometime in the future when they could talk.
But now Zac was here, his head dipped contentedly playing with his toys, making little sound effects now and then for the revving engines. And she knew if she talked about that night any more, her son was sensitive enough to notice her distress.
Had she made a mistake bringing him to meet Will? On the very day Will learned of his existence. Perhaps she should have come alone or phoned Will first. But you can't tell a person they have a child over the phone. Emma knew she'd made mistakes though. The funny thing was that for mistakes they had all seemed like the only thing to do at the time.
Loving Will. Being with him. Having their baby. Well, she knew that couldn't be a mistake and yet her life had turned out so differently from how she'd intended.
But leaving Lima, raising their son without his father, she'd only recently been able to face up to the damage that might do. She could see now that she had hurt Will as well, and that hadn't been her intention, though he had hurt her too.
She wondered, did Will blame her for this? What was he thinking? She couldn't tell any more, if she ever could.
Will looked at Emma, sitting just a couple of feet away from him with her red hair, longer than it had been but still very definitely her, and her brown eyes, seemingly growing by the second. It was hard to believe she was really there. And even harder to believe what she was saying. It was strange, more like a dream with a cast of familar faces, Emma who had haunted his dreams since she'd left, and a child that he might easily have conjured up from his imagination.
The look she gave him was almost pleading but he didn't know what she wanted from him. She'd managed well enough until now. She didn't need him and she hadn't wanted him in her life. Had she brought their son to see him just to give him a tantalising glimpse of what their life might have been? And then to whisk him away? He hardly dared speak for fear they'd leave again. Just watching and soaking up every detail, in case this memory was all he ever had.
"I brought photos," she said suddenly,"so you can see...They're in here. Just a sec."
Emma rummaged in her bag, out came wipes, tiny sealed bags of snacks, a juice box. She turned to Zac. "Do you want some apple juice, baby?" The little boy nodded before slurping loudly through the straw. "And animal crackers?" She handed him a little bag and took a wipe out to swipe at his little hands before he could reach for a cracker.
Will found it strange to see Emma like that, organised but still more chaotic than he'd ever seen her and yet so calm. And, well, centered, he supposed was the word.
"This is Zac on his last birthday," she said quietly, handing him a photo. "And this is the day he was born." Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Can I see, Mommy?" asked Zac.
"Of course, sweetie. Just let your daddy look at them first."
"I..." words failed him. His brain was a mass of swirling thoughts. Emma. Their child. This baby in the photo. Your daddy.
Emma nodded. Her heart was heavy. She didn't need him to speak his thoughts out loud. She knew he must hate her for everything she had taken from him.
"We could let you have some time, Will," she said frowning.
Time? he wondered. "Are you going? When will you be back?" He could hear the urgency in his own voice.
"We're just going to the motel. I-I thought we'd stay in Lima until tomorrow, so you can see Zac again if you want to."
Want to? Was Emma really asking him that?
"Okay, but when?"
"In the morning, we could meet and have breakfast, something like that." Something normal, she thought. Because this wasn't normal. She knew that.
"O-okay," his brain couldn't move on from this one thought. He had a son.
"Breadsticks, 9.30?" Emma asked, forcing a smile as she gathered Zac and his toys, the little boy's head lolling against her shoulder.
He nodded. It was probably a good idea for them to go now. Either that or Zac would be convinced he had a zombie for a father.
She turned away. And then back again to face him.
"Are you okay, Will? Do you, um, do you have anyone?" She wanted to bite the words back. "I-I meant to talk to." Will didn't look good. He didn't even look like he could get home okay.
He nodded.
But as she walked away she did wonder who that someone might be.
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