Wasted Time

by Mya O'Malley

  Having secured a round-trip flight and reservations at a local motel for three nights for just the two of them, she had just started packing when she heard Mike arrive home from work.

  “Mike?”

  She wanted to pack shorts for him but couldn’t find any in the attic. The weather prediction called for warm, muggy temperatures. He wasn’t answering.

  “Mike? Could you come here please?” she tried again, but still no answer.

  Padding down the hallway, she searched for him and found him in the kitchen, just staring into space.

  “Mike? I was calling you. Where are your shorts from last summer?”

  Mike faced her, stress etched onto his face. There was something wrong; she knew it in an instant.

  “What is it?” As she reached for him, he turned away, eyes glistening with tears.

  “I can’t go.”

  Oh. To her, the news wasn’t all that bad, but she wondered what was making him so upset.

  “It’s no big deal. I told you, I’ll be back in a few days, no worries.” She smiled up at him, taking his hands in hers.

  “It is a big deal. I wanted to go and now I have to go away for work.”

  He slammed his fists on the granite counter, causing Morgan to step back and grab at her chest.

  “What has gotten into you? I mean, you’re acting like a child.” That probably wasn’t the best choice of words, given the look on his face right now.

  “Morgan. Promise me something, please.” Instead of getting angrier, he grew sullen, melancholy.

  “Yes, anything.”

  “Promise me that you’ll always love me.”

  Stepping closer to him, she scrunched her face up to look him in the eye.

  “Of course. Don’t be silly.” He was really behaving in such an insecure way.

  Morgan excused herself to continue packing and before she knew it, the night was upon them. Mike was clingy all evening and as they lay side by side, he was emotional.

  For a second, right after he had said good night to her, Morgan thought she heard him say that he was sorry. It was a mere whisper, but she could have sworn she heard it. Her mind must have been playing tricks though, what could he have been sorry about?

  Amber and Cathy were beyond helpful in planning his mother’s wake. It was to be simple, sweet, and quiet. Just what his mother would have wanted.

  Declan and Amber were the first to arrive; Amber took charge to ensure that everything was in order while Declan excused himself to take a breath of fresh air. The air was stifling, which made it even harder for him to catch his breath. Guests were due to arrive momentarily. Honestly, he didn’t expect many people to attend, perhaps some people that she had grown friendly with at her development and some nurses from the home.

  Amber stepped outside to join him, looking sweet in a simple dress. Almost immediately he was in her arms, sobbing. It was hitting him hard now, all the memories, good and bad.

  “What would I do without you?” He stroked her face, gazing at the depths of her blue eyes. “You’re going to make some man really lucky one day, you know?” The comment didn’t make her smile but appeared to sadden her.

  “Declan,” she whimpered. “Don’t.”

  More than once, he had thought that he was being selfish, holding onto their friendship when he should just let her go. She swore she was okay with their relationship, but her eyes gave her away. As selfish as it sounded, he held on because he did love her, just not in that mind-blowing way that he knew existed.

  “Hey, buddy.” It was a voice he could never forget, from that first day of second grade.

  Stephen had been there for him, and he was now right here, stepping out of a rental car. A smile lightened his face as he took in his childhood friend, looking handsome in a suit.

  Hugs were exchanged and introductions were made. Stephen straightened his posture when his eyes rested on Amber. She turned her eyes down, shuffling her feet. If he wasn’t mistaken, Declan could have sworn that she was blushing. No, it was probably just the Florida heat. But there it was again, the look exchanged between his two friends.

  Funny thing, Stephen always had his fair share of attention from the ladies, with his shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. It didn’t surprise him to think that Amber might find Stephen attractive. And Amber, well, it would shock him to find a man that didn’t find her beautiful. Very interesting. An idea began to take shape in his mind.

  “Let’s head inside, huh? The guests are due to arrive.”

  Leading the way, Declan turned to see his friends making small talk behind him. As humid as it was outside, Declan was grateful that the air inside was cooled by the air-conditioning system. Prone to sweating, he mopped his forehead with his handkerchief before stepping inside.

  A few elderly guests had arrived as well as his cousins, aunt, and uncle. He hadn’t seen them in ages; it was nice of them to attend the service. He was making his way over to greet his relatives, when he thought to introduce Stephen and Amber. Glancing over at them, he chuckled slightly at the sight of them, deep in conversation. He would just leave them alone for now.

  Stephen headed over after a few minutes, a serious look on his face. He had to be upset about his mom, also. His mom and Stephen had gotten along quite well over the years. Stephen advanced, the look on his face odd.

  “Can I speak with you for a sec?” Stephen’s voice shook a bit. He cleared his throat and took hold of Declan’s elbow, guiding him to the door.

  “Declan!” It was Uncle Bill, from California.

  His uncle hadn’t aged since the last time he saw him, about five years ago. Declan ambled over towards his uncle, limping slightly. His leg ached today, the high humidity doing a number on him. As he was winding up his conversation with Uncle Bill, he noticed Tach walking through the door.

  “Give me a minute, buddy, and I’m all yours.” Declan placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, noting the look of worry on Stephen’s face.

  He turned to walk towards Tach, glad that his friend had stopped by. It had almost slipped his mind that Stephen had wanted to speak with him. Scanning the room for his friend, he spotted him wrapped up in a conversation with none other than Amber once again. Good for you, man. It hit him that if he were to choose any woman in the world for Stephen, it would be Amber. The thought had not occurred to him before, but why not? Distance might prove to be a challenge, but stranger things had happened.

  Chatter filled the small room; Declan was pleased to see how many people had shown up to pay respects to his mom. He stood on the outskirts of a conversation between his aunt and Betty from the nursing home when his world turned upside down.

  There, not fifteen feet away from him, she stood. For God’s sake, Morgan was standing before him like a ghost from the past.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WHERE WAS HE? Stephen had planned on arriving over an hour ago, but she didn’t see him anywhere in the small crowd. A sweet-looking blonde woman came into view, playing with her hair, smiling widely. She should have known, there he was, flirting with this beauty. With a smart grin on her face, Morgan headed over to Stephen, glad to have found a familiar face.

  It was the expression on his face that first caused her to wonder what was wrong. Stephen held up his hand, as if to stop her in her tracks. A look not unlike guilt covered his face as Morgan came closer. What’s wrong? Something is wrong here. And then she saw him standing there. He stood, silent and tall, dark hair, blue eyes. My God, Declan’s ghost is here with his mother, was her only thought before she felt the air sucked from her body. She was out cold before she hit the floor.

  “Morgan! Morgan!”

  His voice made her smile, he was right beside her. Maybe she was with him now, safe and sound, home at last.

  “Morgan!”

  Somebody was ripping her away from him, trying to break them apart.

  “No! Leave me alone.”

  This is where she wanted to be now, she was by his side; she could even sme
ll him.

  Faraway voices mumbled. She hit her head. I saw it. What happened? Did she pass out? Leave her, give her space. I’ve got it.

  Was that Stephen? Slowly, she opened her eyes, struggling to make sense of the sight before her. It was Declan holding her, crouching beside her on the floor. She reached out to touch his face, certain that he would disappear. He didn’t.

  “Declan! My God, Declan!” She locked eyes with him and sat straight up, wincing as she held her head. It was sore; she must have hit it hard going down. Dear God, how could this be? How could this be?

  “Here, sit up slowly, take it slowly.” He was sitting now, beside her, at a strange angle.

  She was on the verge of passing out again when Stephen appeared before her, horror written all over his face.

  “I tried to tell you, Morgan. I tried so many times,” he cried out, glancing back and forth between her and Declan.

  He was alive. He’s alive. He’s alive!

  Morgan wept openly, clinging to Declan for dear life. He was alive. She pressed herself close to him, so close as to be certain that nobody could take him from her ever again.

  He looked older — his eyes seemed old, that was it, like they had been through hell and back. She ran her eyes over his arms, his jacket off and sleeves now rolled up. Perspiration clung to him. He had burns covering part of his forearm. What had he been through?

  “Declan?” Witnessing a look between Declan and Stephen, suddenly she saw the whole picture. My God, you lied to me. All this time, you lied!

  She was on her feet in a flash. Declan stumbled when she threw him off her; Stephen helped his friend to his feet. Something was wrong with Declan, his body, the way he held himself, something was seriously wrong. No! No! It’s wrong. This is all so horribly wrong!

  “You! And You!” Her finger wavered between Declan and Stephen, her mouth open in horror. “Get away from me! Both of you!”

  She turned and smacked right into the little blonde, who stood gaping at the scene before her. Actually, everyone in the room stood with mouths open, eyes wide. It registered in her mind that she was causing a scene, here, at Mrs. Blake’s service, but her emotions were wild; she was unable to get control. The only thing on her mind was getting as far away from here as possible.

  With all the strength she could muster, she dragged herself to her rental car through wracking sobs. His voice, that voice that she had longed to hear, just one more time, the voice she had heard time and again in her dreams, her nightmares, was calling out her name, begging her to stop. I won’t look back. I won’t look back.

  “Dammit, Morgan! Don’t get in the car like that. You shouldn’t be driving!” he yelled, attempting to close the space between them, but not succeeding.

  He wasn’t the same, it was clear that he wasn’t walking correctly, but to hell with him, to hell with him for making her cry every single day for years. With the slam of her car door, she started the engine with trembling hands.

  Declan was closing in. She screeched out of the parking lot, not knowing where she was headed. She just needed to get away. How could he have lied to her all these years? There was nothing in the world that would explain and justify his behavior.

  She should pull over; she was in no condition to drive a car. Morgan found a spot to pull over a few blocks away, at the end of a quiet street. Laying her head in her hands, she cried until no more tears would come. She needed someone to talk to. Mike. She needed Mike. He would never do this to her; he loved her too much. Her trembling fingers managed to find his number; she silently prayed that he would support her, that he would understand her grief.

  “Mike.” She crumbled when she heard his voice over the line. “Mike, I need you.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath; it all came rushing back to her when she tried to explain everything that had happened. Mike had to make sense of it all. Her head pounded fiercely; she thought it would explode.

  “Mike, please, say something.” The silence was deafening until finally he spoke.

  “My God, Morgan. What kind of a man could possibly do that? He’s a bastard.”

  Yes he is. She breathed deeply, grateful that a man such as Mike existed, that a man such as Mike could love her.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  Raking his hands through his hair, Declan stood in the hot sun, sweat pouring from every inch of him. He knew that he would be sore in the morning from falling and stumbling back onto the floor. He had twisted his knee and it hurt like hell, but his anger hurt worse at the moment. How could Stephen bring her here? To his mother’s service? The timing couldn’t have been worse.

  “How could you? How could you?” Declan demanded over and over, closing in on his friend.

  He hadn’t felt like this since high school, but he needed to hit something, someone, and Stephen was the perfect target. The punch knocked Stephen off his feet; Declan dropped heavily to the ground, going in for another hit. Stephen grabbed his hand, holding it closed. Tach, witness to the scene, prepared to come in between the two men but backed away slowly. His friend’s arms were around Declan, holding him, steadying him, silencing his tears.

  “I’m sorry. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. You know how she is.”

  “You should have never told her, never,” Declan sobbed.

  “No, it needed to stop. You have no idea what you’ve done, how she looked, how she mourned you. It needed to stop. I couldn’t live with myself,” Stephen exclaimed.

  “What have I done? My God, what have I done?” Declan looked at his friend, searching his face for understanding.

  He knew that his friend would never agree with the pain he had caused, but he also knew that Stephen would be there for him, just like a brother.

  “I think you need to go to her.” Amber’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. How long had she been standing there listening?

  “Amber, now is not the time. I’m the last person she wants to see.”

  But there was that determined look on her face, her jaw set hard.

  “Stephen, give me Morgan’s number.”

  “Are you crazy? She doesn’t even know you. Let it go, Amber. Too much damage has been done.” He hung his head low, a headache threatening.

  “Stephen, give it to me.” Amber reached for the phone that was already coming out of Stephen’s jacket pocket.

  Quick as a flash, she quickly found the programmed number and mouthed the numbers aloud as she punched them into her own cell.

  “I’ve got somewhere I have to be. Stephen, it was nice to meet you.” Amber raced to Declan’s truck, starting it up with the keys that he’d foolishly left in the console. She tore out toward the road ahead.

  Shaking his head, Declan looked up to see Stephen’s eyes following the sound of the loud engine fading off into the distance. Stephen’s jaw hung open, unable to form words.

  “Tell me about it,” Declan muttered, knowing right then and there that Stephen was caught up in Amber’s spell.

  It seemed that hours had gone by when in fact in was only minutes. Heading back to the motel by the water seemed to be the only decision she could make at the moment. Would she stay for the funeral in a few days? Surely this must be some kind of dream. All she had wanted, all she had wished for, was for Declan to be by her side. Now though, this seemed like the cruelest nightmare yet.

  Evidence in the form of burn marks and the manner in which he carried himself pointed to the fact that he had been injured, quite seriously. Thinking was a good thing for her right now; she could dive into the role of detective in order to keep herself sane. She pulled into the small, pebbled lot and then parked her car.

  Her cell rang, forcing her theories out the window. It was an unfamiliar number, the exchange from Florida. Oh no, it could be Declan. She wouldn’t answer; she decided she wasn’t speaking to him — probably ever again. How could he just lie? Cut her out of his life? She waited for the voicemail to beep through her phone and decided that she would a
t least listen to the message.

  It wasn’t him; it was a woman’s voice, smooth and sweet sounding, coming through the line. She stated that her name was Amber and that she was a friend of Declan’s. Amber pleaded that it was urgent that they speak. After hearing Amber rattle off her number, Morgan huffed and powered her phone down. Nope, no way.

  Grabbing her bag, she hurried into her room, which was waiting for her with the air-conditioning on full blast. How did people around here deal with these sweltering temperatures? New York could get hot too, but not most of the year at least.

  Why would he do this? Even Morgan knew in her heart that he wouldn’t discard her without a damn good reason. She seriously doubted that he grew tired of their relationship or found another woman while he was in the Army fighting in Afghanistan. Her mind flashed to her little spot down by the tiny sliver of a beach on the Hudson River, where she honored his memory. It hurt like hell to think he would let her suffer all those years alone. And what was wrong with Stephen? No wonder he had distanced himself. Now that she was thinking and placing clues together, she was pretty sure that Stephen had been in on the secret from the start.

  Deep in thought, she didn’t hear the tapping on the door until it got louder, and then a woman’s voice was yelling, demanding that she open the door at once. Could it be the police acting like that? No, no. The voice sounded familiar. Yes, it was that Amber woman from her phone message. She tiptoed to the door and peeked out the small window. It was the petite blonde from the service. That must be Amber. Unfortunately, Morgan had been spotted.

  “I see you! Please, Morgan, I swear I won’t leave until you let me in.”

  How did this little woman even find her? It was absurd to think how quickly she had been tracked.

  Steeling herself, she figured she had no choice but to open the door and face this woman. She seemed as persistent as a bulldog.

  Morgan flung the door open, exasperated. “What?”

  “Thank God!” The little blonde pushed herself through the door and stood grounded at a spot near the small table at the side of the room.