Dear Emmie Blue

by Lia Louis

I felt closer than I’d ever been to that “home” feeling I’ve searched my whole life for.

“About how they knew each other as kids yet it took them twenty years to find each other again.”

Maybe it’ll take us twenty years and two marriages for us—well, him—to realize it. That it’s me. That it’s us.

I walk and walk, aimless, stopping only once to look up at the sky, stars like a spray of white paint on black silk, and want to ask it why? Why did you pull me toward him, for miles and miles, if this is how it ends up?

“Do you like love stories?” she asks, and I lower myself to sit at the foot of Louise’s soft, creaking bed. “I do,” I tell her. “They’re my downfall, actually.”

I’m just wondering why you don’t think he will come and find her.”

The butterflies in my stomach at the sight of him blindsided me.

You are out the other side of something, and not only are you standing, but you’re standing strong.”

He pulls me into him then, arms tightening around me, strong hands against my back. Him. Him. It was always him.