Rowena
I couldn’t believe my ears when Emma actually said yes to my request to get hot cocoa together. After purchasing our things, we found ourselves sitting at a small corner table in a nearby cafe, our shopping bags piled around us and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table.
“So,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, “how have you… how have you been?”
Emma regarded me for a few moments over her mug. The implications were pretty clear: I was referencing the miscarriage that she had suffered only last week. We both knew that.
Finally, her gaze dropped and her shoulders seemed to sag a little.
“I’ve been alright,” she said quietly. “Um… Thanks for helping me the other day, by the way.”
I almost winced at the mention of what had happened back then. It had bee
