My Wish for You

No knowledge of these memories

"I will find you Emma. I Love you."
The words they echoed in her head. She had absolutely no idea who's lips had uttered them. She doesn't even remember being anywhere but in Boston with her son. Think Emma she wills herself. She had awaken in the middle of the night. Same dream for the past year, each night ended just a tad bit differently. Last night consisted of seeing a place where she stood at a town line with a beautiful brunette by her side. She remembers holding her around the waist and smiling as if she would never be unhappy again. The dream left her shattered. It felt like a memory but one she would never know. That was until her son stumbled over a small shoe box containing photos. What is this stuff? The blonde questions. "Henry, where on earth did you find this?" "Ma, I just found it under my bed. It's like magic it just randomly appeared. I've never seen it before." The teen answers and looks down with curiosity as he regards the photos. "Uh Ma?" "Yes Hen?" The young teen coughed to clear his throat and hide his embarrassment. "Who is this brunette woman?" "Who is what?" Emma asks. Henry picks up the photograph and shows it to his blonde mother. "This woman, who is she?" Emma takes a long hard look at the photo. "I'm not sure honey." She then does a doubletake. "Wait, let me see that again." As her son hands over the photograph again his mother closes her eyes and sighs. "Ma, are you alright?" She hears the concern in his young maturing voice. "Hen, there's something I need to tell you." The blonde says slowly. "What is it Ma? You're frightening me." "This woman, I've seen her before. For the past year she has occupied my dreams each night. She's like a memory but one I have no control over remembering. Each dream has displayed us in a relationship as well as this picture shows. She also knows you. It's all hard to understand son, but I feel like we don't belong here in Boston. It's as if this isn't our real home." She lets him think over her words as she thumbs through the photos. One photo showed the three of them smiling wide with goofy faces. She turned it over and found the words "My love and my son" The elegant handwriting was most certainly not hers and Henry's handwriting is no better. It had to of belonged to the other woman. Just who is this mysterious woman?