I spent the last years of my life trying to repair that mistake.
You will decide whether I succeeded.
And, Margaret, whatever you choose to do with Julian, remember this: he is not responsible for any of my choices.
I folded the letter.
For a long time, I simply sat there.
Then I whispered:
“Thomas, you foolish man.”
My voice broke.
“I would have loved that boy.”
Mr. Harrison began crying.
I looked toward the photograph of Julian and Lucy.
“And he could have loved me.”
That evening, I called Julian.
He answered immediately.
“Margaret?”
“I found your mother's letters.”
Silence.
Then:
“Oh.”
I swallowed.
“Julian, I need to tell you something.”
He sounded frightened.
“What?”
“I don't know what kind of relationship we're going to have.”
He said nothing.
“I don't know how quickly I can make peace with everything.”
“I understand.”
“But I would like to try.”
His breath caught.
