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I shrug. “I can be into her without it going anywhere. If she works for me, I can keep her at arm’s length if I want to. But I want to see what it is about her that’s so intriguing.”
Emma nods. “It’s the first step like I said. And it’s a bit deal that you actually took it. I think it’s a good thing.”
“Thanks.”
We sit in silence for a while, sipping our smoothies.
“I don’t know how I feel about my parents,” I finally say.
Emma looks at me but she doesn’t speak, so fill the silence. She often lets me unpack my baggage this way.
“Maybe I should try to find my mom.”
“What?” Emma asks, surprised. When I look at her, she shifts on the couch, pulling one leg up so she can turn to face me. She winces, her aching muscles complaining when she does.
I shrug. “It’s been on my mind a lot lately.”
“It’s been thirty years,” Emma says softly.
I nod. That’s how long it's been—three decades since I saw my mother last.
“Thirty years of guilt,” I admit. “I shouldn’t have left her there.”
“What choice did you have?”
I nod again. She’s right. It wasn’t like I could force my mom to come with me when she didn’t want to. I just don’t know why she chose the monster over me.
“What will you do when you find her?” Emma asks.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far. I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about the whole thing. I’m just very aware that time is ticking on. If I feel likemylife is running out, she won’t have more time left.” I look down at my smoothie, about halfway now. “If she’s still alive,” I add in a whisper.
Emma reaches to me and takes my hand. “Whatever happened to her, whatever she’s been through... that’s not your fault. You know that, right?”
“Easier to say than to believe,” I say.
Emma nods. “I know. But she was a grown woman and she made a choice. And your time isnotrunning out.”
This is another point of contention between Emma and me. I feel like my time is running out because I have nothing to show for the years I’ve been on this earth. I keep young by staying fit and active, by eating healthy. And I’ve built an empire by working myself to death all these years. But that’s not what a legacy is. An empire means nothing without an heir to pass it on to. A legacy isn’t what I’ll leave behind after I pass away, butwhoI’ll leave behind.
I know I won’t have a family. I won’t have a wife and children—that’s not in the stars for me. But I’m someone’s family. I’m someone’s child. And after all these years thinking about what I have to leave behind, I think about my mom more and more.
Especially now, after that stupid fortune teller reminded me of a past I didn’t want to think about.
“Do you think that woman knew anything?” I ask Emma, leaning forward, elbows on my knees.
“What woman?” Emma asks.
“The fortune teller at the event last week. Madame Dorota.”
“Doyou?” Emma asks with a frown.
I shake my head firmly. “Of course, not. Her words were all so generic. I mean, everyone has had a hard life; everyone has been through pain. If I take what she said to me, I could apply that to anyone. I can even apply them to you, right?”
“So, apply them to me,” Emma says. “Hit me.”
I sigh and shake my head. “She said stuff about the past; you heard her. About history repeating itself, about running back to danger…”
“Is that what this is all about?” Emma asks.
