Wasted Time

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by Mya O'Malley


  Wracked with grief, Declan silently headed for Stephen’s apartment. It was late, too late it seemed. With a grimy hand, he reached for his cell phone but remembered he no longer had service. Besides, he didn’t want to speak right now, not to anybody. He didn’t want to talk at all. Stark visions of destruction and debris rolled into thoughts of the bodies he had witnessed — things nobody should ever have to see in an entire lifetime.

  He’d be back bright and early tomorrow to continue the search for remains and signs of human life at the awful place they were starting to refer to as ground zero. His brain still couldn’t wrap around the fact that humans could be so destructive and cruel to one another. Tears streamed down his face — tears for those lost, those left behind, and tears for the future of the entire country. It wouldn’t be the same, not after this.

  Silence was deafening on the streets of Manhattan. Images of soot and smoke had pounded the streets of the city today, turning bright, sunny skies to deadly, consuming darkness. He would call Morgan when he arrived at the apartment, but he would spare her the horrors witnessed today; of those he would never speak.

  It seemed like hours before he finally made it to the small couch in the tiny living room. Bone tired, he knew that Stephen still had hours to go before he was due to arrive home. Despite his exhaustion, he made the promised call to let Morgan know that he was okay. He grabbed Stephen’s landline phone and breathed.

  The sound of her voice instantly brought him to tears. Holding them back, he spoke firmly. “Hi, Morgan.”

  “Declan! You’re okay.” From the sound of her voice, she hadn’t slept much either.

  “I’m at Stephen’s place. Listen, I needed to tell you that I’m safe and I wanted to hear your voice. I’m going to say goodnight. It’s been a long night.” His voice was hushed; suddenly it took every ounce of his energy to speak.

  “Oh, okay. I love you.” Morgan’s voice was a mere squeak.

  “I love you, too.” He did with all his heart.

  After a quick shower to wash away the dust and grime, Declan threw on a t-shirt and settled onto the lumpy couch. This was a bachelor pad for sure.

  Shadows played across the room. Who were those people? Did they have husbands, wives and children waiting for them at home? Realizing that those lost at ground zero would never make it home again brought fresh tears to his eyes. That night, sleep never came.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HE WAS NEVER QUITE the same after those long days and nights at ground zero. Sure, he smiled and laughed, but it was as if something deep inside him had died a little. Recurring nightmares of planes dropping from the sky, faces of souls that were too late to save bombarded him each and every night. Morgan knew this without Declan saying a word. Soft whimpers and fluttering behind his closed eyes broke her heart every time.

  Morgan stood by his side and loved him with all she had. Declan wanted to fight for his country, fight for all the wrongs done, but he hadn’t been called into duty yet. In her heart, Morgan feared for the day that he would be called into action. However, in her head, she knew it might be just what he needed to fight those demons off. It was several months after 9/11 and Declan remained haunted by the lost souls of ground zero.

  It was a cold winter morning and Morgan could think of nothing that she would like better than to snuggle up close to Declan. He had a fire going in his basement fireplace.

  “What do you say we go to our place tonight?”

  Glancing up at him, Morgan beamed.

  “Really?” Morgan asked. “With Stephen and his date?”

  Morgan didn’t mind sharing Declan with his friend tonight. Besides, she was curious about Stephen’s new date. It was amazing how every time she saw him, there was a new woman. Dating lots of different people had never been something she was interested in doing. Luck had graced her with Declan and she couldn’t be happier.

  “No, it’s just the two of us tonight. Stephen cancelled so I thought we’d get a table in the wine cellar. You like that room, right?” A smile teased Declan’s lips as he gazed at Morgan.

  “I love that room. It’s dark and romantic.” Cuddling closer, Morgan planted a kiss on Declan’s warm cheek. He smelled of fresh aftershave.

  “Good, good.” He pulled her closer still and they lay content in each other’s arms. Right then, Morgan considered herself the luckiest woman in the world.

  “Declan?” Twirling her hair slightly, she knew that the approaching topic may ruin the mood in the room, but she was helpless to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. It was on her mind constantly.

  “Yeah?” Staring off into space, Declan’s eyes remained glued to the ceiling.

  “What are you going to do if… you know?”

  “No, Morgan, I don’t know.”

  The world was in turmoil, terrorism a constant silent threat. Threat levels were given code colors — yellow, orange — depending upon the day.

  “Say it, Morgan, just say it.” Declan blew out a breath.

  Sitting up straight, she clutched the blanket to her chest. “Okay, I’ll just come out and say it.” Pouting a bit, she gathered up her words.

  “Go right ahead.”

  “Okay, well… What if they call you to go in?”

  “You already know the answer to that question. I have no choice.”

  His mother’s health had been deteriorating. She was becoming forgetful and since Declan was the only family close by, he checked in on her on a daily basis. Morgan had heard of the soldiers who were permitted to stay home because of such circumstances. Whenever she had mentioned this possibility, he brushed it aside. He felt it was his duty to go, bottom line.

  Stubborn to the core, that man was. “So you’d just go? Up and leave, possibly to never return?”

  “And what’s the alternative? Don’t go?” Now he was sitting up, eye level with Morgan.

  “Well, yes. You could try to get out of it. Plenty of men will go, I’m sure.” Knowing how that sounded before she had a chance to pull the words back, Morgan bit her lip hard. It was definitely the wrong thing to say.

  “Oh, sure, so it’s fine for somebody else’s boyfriend, husband, or son to go, but I should just stay out of it. Is that right?” His voice rose, a telltale sign that Declan was becoming agitated.

  “No, but…”

  “No, but what? Do you hear yourself?”

  He had her there. What could she say? “It’s just that I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you!” Morgan was up, pacing the room, blanket wrapped tightly around her. He stayed put, shaking his head ever so slightly.

  “You knew what you were getting into when you met me, Morgan. We’ve been through this a hundred times. This is part of me, part of who I am.”

  Closing in on him, Morgan knelt and took hold of his face. “Dammit, I know that. Don’t you think I know that? But who would have thought that all of these changes would have happened?”

  “Nobody would have thought any of this would happen, but it did, Morgan, it did!” he yelled, grasping for her hands.

  And so it went; it seemed that this topic was recurring, and it was one where neither could see the other’s side clearly.

  “Obviously, I’m not going to get through that thick skull of yours, am I?” Morgan pleaded with her eyes.

  Gazing right back into her stare, Declan shook his head firmly.

  “It’s not like you’re even sure you’ll ever have to go, right?” It was silly, really, now that she thought about all the precious time being wasted by this conversation.

  Declan didn’t answer her, but took her head his strong hands and closed in for a firm kiss on her lips. The kiss spoke of agitation and frustration at first. Then it became softer, melting a bit with each breath until Morgan could only see him, taste him. Her heart and soul were firmly attached to this man; they were soul mates, in every sense of the word. Yes, the man drove her crazy at times such as these, but honestly, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

  So
ft music filled the air as Morgan sat with Declan in the dark, inviting cellar. A fire roared in the hearth, crackling with warmth. Glancing around, Morgan took in the other diners in the room — some young, some older — but they all seemed content to spend the evening with their dates. Feeling the same, Morgan reached forward and grasped onto Declan’s hand.

  “You look beautiful tonight, Morgan.”

  If she wasn’t careful, she could get lost in his eyes. “And you, Mr. Blake, look very handsome yourself.”

  Conversation was a bit slow for the couple that usually filled the air with chatter about this or that. It was fine with her; perhaps they were just growing more accustomed to each other, more comfortable, without the need for small talk.

  After finishing up their main courses, the jovial waiter approached to clear the table. Morgan had been looking forward to one of their desserts all evening. Atalino’s was famous for their crème brûlée.

  “That’s odd, usually they ask if we want dessert about now.” Also famous for their impeccable service, Morgan was stumped.

  “I’m sure he’ll be back. Relax.” His eyes were serious, probing. Morgan felt there was something that Declan wanted to say, something he was nervous about.

  “Are you okay, honey?” She made small circles on his palms with her thumbs.

  “Couldn’t be better.” His gaze remained fixed on her.

  The heat of the fireplace must have been getting to her; she suddenly felt uncharacteristically shy around him. Fanning herself with her hand, she sat back and released a breath.

  “What are you staring at?” Her eyes were wide.

  A chuckle escaped Declan as he reached for her hands once more. “Boy, there’s nothing that doesn’t get past you.”

  “What does that mean?” It was a strange comment.

  Just then, the waiter swept by and placed a crème brûlée and champagne glasses down at their table.

  “How did he…?” Morgan glanced at the waiter who quietly stepped out of the room. How did she not notice that other diners had gradually left the room and that she and Declan were now the only ones left?

  “Shh, Morgan.”

  Taking her hand, Declan stood. Morgan followed suit and rose to meet him. Declan guided her toward the popping fireplace, a slight grin playing on his lips. Clueless, Morgan went along with him, stopping when they were standing before the fire.

  Declan sat on the stone ledge and Morgan sat beside him. As if in slow motion, he reached into his pocket. Gasping before even spying the small black box, Morgan’s hands rose to meet her mouth.

  “Morgan Matthews, you are my soul mate. There’s nobody who could ever touch what we have. Will you spend the rest of your life with me? Will you marry me?”

  Squealing with delight, her words could barely be contained until he finished speaking. “Yes! Yes, Declan, a million times, yes! I will be honored to be your wife.”

  Slipping the sparkling diamond and platinum band onto her ring finger, his eyes shone with adoration. Melting into his arms, she didn’t care if anybody walked down to the cellar. She kissed this wonderful man like they’d been kept apart for ages. Tears streamed down both of their faces as they finally stopped to gaze at each other.

  “Morgan, I don’t think I could possibly love you any more than I do, right now at this very moment, but something tells me that I’m going to grow to love you more with each passing year.”

  It was simply the sweetest thing that anybody had ever said to her. “What did I do to deserve you?” She couldn’t wait to get home and be alone with him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  STARING AT HIS REFLECTION in the mirror, he wondered for the hundredth time since that night back at the restaurant how he was going to tell her. How could he break her heart, crush her? The decision wasn’t even his; the time had come to stand up and fight for his country.

  When the call had come a few days ago, he knew before he even picked up his phone. He was to head out to Afghanistan in a month. A month, that was all the time he had. Part of him was excited; part of him was scared to death.

  Plans for proposing to Morgan had been forefront in his mind, but when he got the call, he knew that he wanted to take that next step. Perhaps the right thing to do would have been to tell her first, before proposing, but he was worried that she’d say no. Maybe she didn’t want to get attached to a man who may never return home. Raking a hand through his hair, he paused as he took in his unkempt appearance. Be a man, he told himself.

  Morgan was on her way over. He had called her, asking her to stop by after work, saying that he needed to see her. Leave it to Morgan, she responded with a million questions, all of which he put off the best he could. No need to start the argument before she even walks through the door.

  Time stalled as he waited and waited. A hard knock sounded at the door as his belly did flip-flops. Releasing a pent up breath, he meandered to the front door. Placing his hand gently on the doorknob, he sighed and summoned the courage to open the door. Something inside him told him that this battle may very well be worse than any on the battlefield.

  “Morgan, come in,” he stated flatly, avoiding eye contact.

  “That’s a rather formal welcome, wouldn’t you say?” Although smiling, suspicion arose in her gaze.

  “Come, Morgan. Take a seat, please.” Gesturing toward the couch, he solemnly took a seat next to her and held his breath.

  “Whatever it is, why don’t you just come out and say it?” Drumming her fingertips on her lap, Morgan’s eyes bored into his.

  “Morgan, you know how much I love you, don’t you?” His rehearsed speech began, just like he had practiced over and over again that morning.

  Jumping back like she’d been stung by a bee, Morgan’s jaw dropped open. “Oh my God, oh my God! You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  “Morgan, I…” Forgetting what he had planned to say next, he threw his speech out the window. “Morgan, you knew this day would come. You had to know it.”

  She was on her feet, pacing the floor, hands wildly gesturing. “But now? After we’ve just become engaged? We’re going to be a family!”

  He knew if he just got her to calm down that she would see the light.

  “Morgan, we’re a family already. Just take a breath…”

  She was on him in a flash. “Don’t you dare tell me to take a breath! Don’t you dare tell me not to be upset, Declan Blake! I won’t lose you, not now.”

  He wanted to wipe away the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. When he reached for her, she swatted him away, continuing her rant. “I can’t believe you. You could have tried to stay, but you didn’t. I can’t believe what you’re doing!”

  There it was again. How did she expect him to even attempt to back out? He would keep tabs on his mother and ensure that she had the proper care if need be. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t go to Afghanistan.

  “I’ll be back. I promise you.” But he should have never said those words, never. He had no right to make that promise to her.

  “Don’t…” Turning away, she covered her mouth with her hands and dropped to the floor. Moments later, her voice quivered as she asked, “When? How much time do you have?”

  Stooping down to be at her side, he fingered her hair gently and kissed the top of her head. “I leave in a month.”

  “A month?” Mournful eyes met his and she then glanced away, eyes averting him.

  “A month.”

  Silently, he willed her to understand. He knew that she would eventually, with time. Morgan’s posture straightened as she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. No words were needed; he just held her for what seemed like an eternity.

  After all her tears had dried, she pushed herself slightly away from Declan. “When did you find out, Declan?”

  He should have known that she was going to ask. Funny thing, he wasn’t prepared for that question, and Declan wasn’t a lying man. “Right before I proposed to you,” he murmured, sh
ielding himself against the certain storm.

  She was on her feet in a flash. “What? What did you say?” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  Declan stood and attempted to close the distance between them. She shoved her way to the front door and Declan gave up the fight, knowing she just needed time to cool off. She would be back; she always came back. With a swift slam of the door, she was gone.

  Normally, if they argued, Morgan would sometimes reappear within seconds, minutes. Knowing the seriousness of this argument, he visibly drooped, not expecting her to be back for a while. It needed to be said, sooner rather than later. He was breaking her heart, he knew that he was, and it killed him, but was there any other way?

  Resigned to the fact that he would move heaven and earth to make the next month with her memorable and special, anxiety seeped in with worries that she might not want to stick this out. Was it possible that Morgan would leave him over this? It was something that he hadn’t considered seriously, but given the way she was behaving, it had him concerned.

  She couldn’t sleep. How could she sleep when Declan had just slammed her with his news? Now, right after they had just become engaged? How dare he do this to her? It was as if he had taken a hammer and smashed her heart into splintering pieces. Crying wouldn’t solve anything; besides, she was angry still, but she knew the tears would come.

  With a heavy sigh, she lifted her comforter and stepped out of bed. At this point in their relationship, they usually spent most nights together, either at his place or hers. She missed having him beside her. There was no way she would sleep. Damn him.

  As if her mind were on autopilot, she raced out of the front door and hopped into her car. In the back of her mind, she knew that it wasn’t a good idea to be driving when she was so upset. Easing a bit off the gas, she tried to slow her breathing and see the big picture. The big picture was dismal. Ugh! Why would you do this? Just when we were starting our lives together? It would probably be a good idea not to think about her dilemma at all, not while she was driving. Moments later, she pounded fiercely on the steering wheel. So much for that idea.

 

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