“I’m not surprised you were with him again,” he said. “You had feelings for him before, and I suppose I was as good as dead to you.”
“That’s not true,” Emma replied. “You’re Matthew’s father, and it’s clear that he wants you to be a part of his life. I’d never deny him that.”
They continued in silence, taking in the fresh evening air scented with lilacs, until Logan stopped. “Can I ask you something?”
Emma stopped as well and faced him.
“I’m curious,” he said. “Did you always love Oliver, even when you married me?”
Emma glanced toward the darkness in the park ahead. She couldn’t seem to form a response, because Oliver continued to live in a place in her heart where Logan had never been permitted to enter.
“I can’t pretend I’m not jealous,” he added. “But I have to remind myself that you were alone for a long time, and I can’t blame you for giving up on us.”
“I wasn’t alone,” she told him. “I had Matthew and my father.”
Logan nodded, but he seemed unable to let go of the subject. “But you still haven’t answered my question. I want to know about your relationship with Harris. You had his child. Were you going to ask me for a divorce?”
Emma stopped and stood under the glare of a streetlamp. To her surprise, she felt no reluctance about delivering the cold, hard truth to Logan, which was not like her at all. In the past, she’d always tried tobe gentle with her words and protect people’s feelings, which sometimes required white lies. But tonight, all she wanted was candor. She wanted to spit everything out, onto the street.
“Yes,” she confessed. “I wanted to marry him. He promised that he’d come back with a ring at Christmas, and if he had, I would have accepted his proposal and asked you for a divorce.”
Logan grunted, as if she’d punched him in the stomach. She felt a small twinge of regret but knew it was nothing that wouldn’t soon recede, and she weathered it with defiance. Perhaps this was a settling of scores for Logan’s betrayal and the pain he’d caused her. He was, after all, the one who’d abandoned her and left her to raise their son on her own. For seven years she did that. Until Oliver came ashore.
“I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear,” she said bluntly, “but it’s the truth. And now that he’s dead, I suppose he’s become martyred, in a way, and I’m always going to consider him the great love of my life.”
It was a cruel addition to everything she’d already said to him. Emma was beginning to worry about herself. Had she lost all sense of compassion? Was she dead inside? Or worse, vindictive? Like Abigail? Was this how it had started for her?
Logan kicked at the moss between the cracks in the sidewalk, then started walking slowly. “Well, then. I appreciate your honesty.”
They reached the entrance to Point Pleasant Park, but it was too dark to enter, so they turned back. Emma tried to resume conversation by changing the subject. She asked Logan about his life in prison. Then they shifted to postwar politics.
When they rounded the corner at the end of Ruth’s street, Logan touched Emma’s arm. “Please. Before we go back ...”
She stopped and looked up at him.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” he said. “I’d even understand if you hated me forever for what happened. But I’d like to be part of Matthew’s life. That’s what kept me going in prison, especially on the bad days, and there were plenty of those.” He paused. “But I wanted to make it to the endof my sentence so that I could meet him and be some sort of father figure to him—and somehow make up for lost time. And for all my mistakes.”
With parted lips, Emma pondered his words and the tone of his voice and her own private resentments. She’d spent the past seven years distancing herself from thoughts of her husband’s suffering. She hadn’t wanted to think about him in prison, so she didn’t think about him at all. It was easier that way—to simply detach.
But now that he stood before her, she felt a light tug.
He was Matthew’s father. He’d once loved her passionately, and she’d loved him equally in return—though it was years ago. Today, nothing was the same. Emma was not the optimistic young woman she’d once been, and Logan was not the man she first fell in love with. But still ... their shared past could never be erased.
“Matthew wants to get to know you,” she said. “And I can’t deny him that.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut, in obvious relief.
Emma cupped his elbow in her hand. “Come back tomorrow. We can all take a walk around Public Gardens, feed the ducks, and get some ice cream.”
“Thank you, Emma.”
She simply nodded and walked on.
Chapter 29
Sable Island
July 16, 1954
