Sorry about not being in touch. I haven’t had a lot of time to write. It’s sad that summer’s almost over. Well, I’m feeling sad in general these days. I used to love going back to school. So every baby that’s born is a miracle, no matter what, right?

I suggested meeting on Hungerford Footbridge. I made a point of crossing the Thames whenever I could, even if it meant a longer, more roundabout route. The human scale of the bridges drew me, and the way two or three of them could be seen in either direction, like straps fastening down the shoreline while the river moved freely underneath.

He was resting his forearms on the railing, the sides of his long gray coat hanging down. Behind him the cranes formed red constellations above the glitter of the night city. He turned and watched me approach, kissed me on both cheeks, and briefly gripped my hands. He’d cut his hair even shorter. It made his lips prominent, made him look more Spanish. This grown-up Antonio scared me a little, reminding me of the small part I had played in his life.

“Is your family gone?” I asked, to keep everything out in the open. Let there be no nonsense between the progenitors of Maddy.

“They left this afternoon.”

“Thanks for coming with me. It’s no fun going to these things alone.”

“At your service,” he said with mock gravity. He took my arm and we set off. During our year together in Washington, we had done a lot of walking along the Potomac, under the foaming cherry trees or their skeletons, and around the basin to the outlying monuments. We strolled through Georgetown and down the length of the Mall, cutting our earnest talk with laughter, stopping to embrace, my heart expanding to house the future that I believed was ours. It was a giddy sensation now, being in London with Antonio, without Maddy. All the traveling I’d never done, the adventures I had deferred to the mythical future! I would not tell him I had stalked his family. For one evening I would not think about the past, or what our lives were made of now.

“Can we stop a minute?” I let go and went to the railing. I had inherited the childlike delight my mother took in looking down at bodies of water. In the wide view, the river appeared almost motionless, but nearby, around the pilings, the muddy water coursed dangerously fast.