“They operated.”
“Months later, a doctor told me the injuries might have caused scarring.”
“He said pregnancy could be difficult.”
“Maybe impossible.”
Daniel frowned.
“Maybe.”
Emily looked at him.
“What?”
“You said maybe.”
“That was the word.”
“Not certainly.”
“No.”
“But Henry heard impossible.”
Her eyes filled again.
Daniel knew before she confirmed it.
“Yes.”
He looked toward the fireplace.
“What did he say?”
Emily remained silent.
Daniel turned back.
“What did he say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
She exhaled shakily.
“He said he had married a woman, not an empty house.”
Daniel’s hands curled.
He looked down at them until they relaxed.
Emily continued before he could speak.
“When he was angry, he called me barren.”
“Emily.”
“Please.”
She shook her head.
“If you look angry, I can’t finish.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, his voice was controlled.
“I’m not angry with you.”
“I know.”
“That still makes it difficult.”
He leaned back.
“Finish.”
Emily nodded.
“After he died, I went back to the doctor.”
“He had retired.”
“Another physician had the records, but he couldn’t tell me more.”
“He said there was no way to know without time.”
Daniel frowned.
“Without time?”
“Without trying.”
The meaning settled.
“You were never pregnant after the accident?”
“No.”
“Henry?”
She shook her head.
“He barely came near me during the last year.”
Daniel wanted to say several things about Henry.
None would help.
Emily looked directly at him now.
“When you asked me to marry you, I thought I could tell you.”
“I tried.”
“At the river.”
“At church.”
“The night you proposed.”
Daniel remembered.
She had nearly said something near the barn.
He thought she was about to reject him.
Instead she kissed him.
Emily whispered:
“But every time I imagined your face after I told you, I saw Henry’s.”
Daniel’s heart broke quietly.
Not dramatically.
No anger.
Just the painful realization that a dead man had been standing between them every day without Daniel knowing.
He stood.
Emily stiffened.
Daniel stopped immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You thought I was leaving.”
Her eyes betrayed her.
He sat again.
“I'm not.”
She looked away.
Daniel took a slow breath.
“Can I touch your hand?”
Emily nodded.
He reached carefully.
Her fingers were cold.
He closed both hands around one of hers.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“So I could have told you months ago that it changes nothing.”
Emily stared.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing about whether I wanted to marry you.”
“You wanted children.”
Daniel nodded.
“I did.”
Her face fell slightly.
He squeezed her hand.
“Emily.”