by Mya O'Malley
“You know, this really isn’t a good time.” Morgan crossed her arms in front of her chest, guarding herself.
Amber came closer, pressing her hands on Morgan’s shoulders. “Sit down, we need to talk.”
“How did you find me?” Morgan demanded.
“I grew up here. There’s not many local motels. Let’s just say I also know a lot of the locals.”
Morgan sat, but shook her head, taking the woman in. Amber was downright adorable. Her wispy blonde hair practically fell to her waist. She looked very young, or maybe just innocent. A stabbing feeling of jealousy took hold of her. This woman must be very close to Declan if she were behaving in this way. This was probably his girlfriend.
“I think you should go. I certainly don’t need this right now.” Morgan’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. The other woman caught on to her comment, shaking her head adamantly.
“No, it’s nothing like that. Declan and I are close friends, that’s it. I swear.”
Oh, what did it even matter, honestly? Morgan figured it didn’t at this point, since she was due to be married within days.
“Declan and I met a while back. He made it clear that his heart was already taken,” Amber started slowly, her eyes never leaving Morgan’s face.
“Well, there you go. He’s a lying man who cheated on me,” Morgan stated, rising from her chair.
Amber pulled her back down again.
“His heart was taken by a woman from New York, a teacher.” Amber’s eyes glossed with tears.
Morgan could barely contain her own. She swallowed and allowed the woman to continue her story.
“He never wanted to be a burden to you. His own mother spent so much of her life caring for Declan’s father.”
“I know. I know that,” Morgan muttered. “Still, he should have told me. I would have…”
“You would have stayed and spent your entire life caring for a man who may never have walked again, who was damaged inside and out.” Clasping Morgan’s hand in hers, Amber continued. “You see, he never knew that you would mourn him all these years, how badly his death would weigh on you. He kept track of you, wanted more than anything to contact you once he was stronger.”
That was the part that killed her. “So then why didn’t he?” Morgan cried out, tears breaking though, running down her cheeks.
Amber’s expression changed from kindness to something darker. She quickly lifted her mouth and the dark look had vanished.
“He found out about you and Mike. Stephen kept tabs and told him you were with another man and then that you had become engaged. Don’t be mad at Stephen either. He tried to tell you, but the timing was never right.”
She thought back to the scene in the restaurant, her conversation with him on the phone. My God, he did try to tell her. But it was years later.
As if reading her mind, Amber interrupted her thoughts. “Stephen was sworn to secrecy. He promised not to give Declan away. Right or wrong, he kept that promise, putting distance between the two of you because he couldn’t bear the guilt.” Amber spoke fondly of Stephen, protective over him as well.
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, how can I accept all of this?” Her hands were on her head, tears flowing freely now. “I have to leave, this isn’t the place for me.”
“No, not before you speak with him, Morgan. The timing sucks. Declan needs you though. You of all people should understand how devastated he is over the loss of his mother, and now this.”
Morgan shook her head. She was being so selfish, allowing this drama at his mother’s service. But how else could she have reacted? It didn’t excuse Declan’s poor judgment.
“Please talk to him. Be here for him until the funeral is over, and then you can go. He needs you.”
Morgan had a lot to think over. “You sound like you’re a good friend to Declan.” She couldn’t deny that.
Amber reached over and hugged Morgan. She allowed her to stay for a while longer. It seemed she enjoyed the woman’s company and she suddenly didn’t like the idea of being alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHERE THE HELL WAS AMBER? She hadn’t responded to any of Declan’s calls or texts. Knowing the woman, he was pretty sure she had found Morgan. He could only imagine the conversation between the two women.
Morgan hadn’t taken the news well, but what did he expect? It was killing him that he had to deal with this and his mother’s passing at the same time. Declan considered himself to be a strong man, but this situation was sure to challenge even a man like Tach. It was too much to bear. He couldn’t erase her image from his mind. Morgan was still impossibly beautiful but there was a haunted look in her eyes, and she was a bit thinner than he remembered.
The ringer of his cell made him jump in his seat. It was Amber. “Amber! What happened? Where are you?”
“Now just relax for a second. I saw her,” Amber began only to be interrupted by him.
“Where? Where is she? Please, Amber, I need to find her.” He was a desperate man. Not that it needed to be confirmed, but he was every bit as much in love with Morgan as before.
“Okay, so I spoke with her for over an hour, Declan. She’s beyond hurt.”
“Amber! I’m losing patience. Tell me where she is!”
Amber could seriously drive him crazy sometimes. He could hear the sound of a man’s voice in the background, instructing her to tell him. Was that Stephen’s voice? What was Stephen doing there with Amber? He couldn’t even begin to wrap his brain around that situation right now. He needed one thing only, besides air to breathe, he needed Morgan.
“Geez. She’s at the Turtle Motel on Seaside Highway. Now, Declan, listen…”
“What’s the room number, Amber? Tell me!”
“It’s room number eight, but Declan…”
He knew the motel, it was where the sea turtle hospital was; he had visited once about a year ago. Pressing the END button on his cell, he flew out the door to the best of his ability, which was pretty fast by his standards.
Praying silently, he gripped the steering wheel of Stephen’s rental car for the course of the fifteen-minute ride. He thought about what to say to Morgan. What did one say in a situation such as this? There was no set of rules as far as he was concerned; he would speak from the heart and take it from there. In the back of his mind, he knew that his Morgan was really not his anymore; she was engaged to be married any day now.
The parking lot was before him. Scanning the room numbers, he quickly found room number eight and parked as close as he could get. His heart hammered in his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Pounding on the door, he held his breath. One, two, three… he released his breath just as the door opened. Before his eyes stood Morgan. She was so breathtaking that it hurt. Did he see anger in her eyes or was it sadness? Slowly, her gaze softened just a bit, as she stepped to the side.
“I guess you’re going to come in anyway, so I might as well let you in.” Morgan sighed heavily.
How could anyone be so beautiful? At one time he had been afraid that he would forget what she looked like. Standing before him now, she was even more precious than he recalled. The sound of her voice was raspy, as if she had been crying.
Morgan led the way to the small table, sitting first, her eyes glued to his leg.
She was the first to speak. “What happened?” She nodded as she gazed at his leg.
He knew this conversation would need to take place, but he didn’t want to bring her down with the gory details.
“There was an explosion.”
He shut his eyes, tight, remembering the unwelcome memory, something he didn’t consciously allow himself to think about anymore. Speaking aloud about that day brought it all back. He remembered everything — from the smell of gunpowder and the sweat dripping down his back, to the sight of the man he had shot. Sean’s voice echoed through his mind, calling for him, warning him moments too late.
From the corner of his eye he saw it coming, but it wa
s in slow motion. His body seemed to freeze, his legs full of lead, not moving. He couldn’t remember if he heard or felt it first. The explosion was all heat, burning him. It was hot, hotter than he could have ever imagined, then it was nothing. He went blank until that day he had woken up in the hospital.
“Oh my God, Declan.” Morgan seemed to forget about her anger momentarily, for she closed the distance between them and held him close.
He could smell her, that fresh smell of her hair, the powdery scent of the same perfume she had worn all those years ago. It seemed as if no time had gone by, like sitting right before him she was still his girl, almost his wife.
“Morgan,” he groaned, turning away.
He had lost the only thing that mattered to him besides his mother; how could this have happened? If he had the chance he swore that he would re-write the past. If only some magical spell could be cast, allowing him to start again from that moment when he awoke at the hospital. But this wasn’t a fairy tale and fate had played a cruel trick on him; he couldn’t get out of his own way until it was too late.
“Shh, Declan, I’m here.” Morgan’s gaze slid once more to his leg; he blushed fiercely.
It had never occurred to him that he would ever have to show her. Carefully, he pulled his pant leg up until he reached where his leg was cut off, right below the kneecap. Her hands flew to her mouth and she cried out, not from disgust or terror, but from sympathy for him.
“Declan! No! I’m so sorry.”
He could see her mind spinning, no doubt she was thinking about how much he used to love running, how energetic he had once been. His own mind flashed to ground zero, when he was bending, lifting, sweating. He flashed to basic training, training for The National Guard. He would never be able to keep up with those physical demands again.
“Morgan, I don’t want you to be sad for me. I’m okay. I’ve learned to live with it and even enjoy my life now. I’ve even met some pretty good friends along the way.”
Her eyes crinkled through the tears.
“My buddy Tach, he helped me through this. Without him I don’t know if I could have survived. The thick-headed man wouldn’t give up on me.”
“I never doubted that you could survive. You’ve always been such a brave, strong man. I just wish that I could have been there for you, helped you through those dark days.”
He was glad that she hadn’t, honestly. It was a dark, dark place— one that he didn’t let his mind return to often these days.
“I made it and so did you.”
His statement stilled the air between them. It was the wrong thing to say; he could see that she was thinking of the past few years, probably even her new fiancé.
“Declan. What now?”
What now? was a question that had been on his mind from that moment he saw her at the service. She wasn’t his anymore. As much as it would kill him, he would have to let her go. The notion that they would remain close friends was foolish; they both had to know it wouldn’t be possible, not now.
“We have these next few days, and then you’ll go back to New York.”
It was such a sad statement. Morgan cocked her head to the side as if she didn’t understand, but she had to know.
“How can we get through this? I… I don’t even know what to do about you, sitting here in front of me, like a dream,” Morgan cried, touching his cheek tenderly.
He moved closer, feeling the heat between them. He could just lean a little closer, but he shouldn’t. She closed the space, gazing into his eyes.
“Morgan.”
He wasn’t in control of his own body, his own actions. Their lips met, slowly at first, a sad reunion, until their chemistry kicked in, chemistry that had been hidden, forced away for so long. His body responded to hers; he was tangled up in Morgan, only Morgan. The heat intensified until it was Morgan that finally pulled away, appearing devastated.
“Oh my… I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, her mouth open in shock of what had just transpired between them.
The kiss felt so right, so natural. If she hadn’t stopped, it would have led elsewhere. He wouldn’t have stopped.
“It’s okay, baby.”
“Baby? But, Declan this is all wrong. I’m… engaged to another man.”
She was on her feet, pacing the floor.
“How can this be? How can I still be in love with you and love him too?”
He knew that she didn’t expect an answer from him; she was thinking aloud. He sat back, taking in the agony and confusion until he could stand it no more.
“Stop it.” He was on his feet, moving toward her. “You and I did nothing wrong. I love you, Morgan. I love you more than ever. It’s not wrong.”
“Yes, it’s very wrong.” She looked up into his eyes, shaking her head over and over. “I should leave. Damn you, Declan. I should leave but I can’t.”
He tilted her head up and kissed her once more, this time rougher, more demanding.
“Stay with me, Morgan. Give me these few days,” he begged through their passion.
She stopped to look up at him and covered his mouth with hers once again.
He stayed the night, but they only held each other close. She knew that she was still being dishonest with Mike, but at the moment she was helpless to do anything but be at Declan’s side.
Today was the last service and tomorrow would be his mom’s funeral. After that, she would have to get back to reality, she supposed. Mike had been calling non-stop, almost making a nuisance of himself. It was probably just because of the guilt she felt, but his calls were irritating her.
Morgan pretended that she was still upset with Declan, filling up the phone line with one lie after another by telling Mike she hadn’t seen him again and that she wasn’t planning on it. Mike seemed thrilled to hear that news, of course.
Mike was anxious to know why she was still in Florida. Morgan supposed she was becoming talented at telling him lies; she said it was too much of a hassle to switch her flight and that she was enjoying some quiet rest and relaxation time. She had no idea how she was going to leave Declan in the next few days. They clung to each other and if anything, seemed closer than they had been all those years ago.
What were her feelings about Mike right now? Truth be told, she did love him, but now that she was once again experiencing love with Declan, she knew deep inside that her love with Mike was comfortable, happy even, but her soul mate was lying beside her. She certainly had a dilemma on her hands, but she and Declan had agreed not to waste any of their precious time together and that at the end of her stay, they could discuss reality.
How could this possibly work? Her life and commitments were in New York; Declan’s life was here in Florida. Morgan considered herself to be a person who followed through on her commitments. She had promised Mike her hand in marriage, made a commitment to the man. The invitations were sent, the catering hall booked, and her honeymoon was set, but when she pictured herself leaving Declan, she couldn’t stand the image and the feelings it provoked.
“What are you thinking about?” Declan kissed the top of her nose.
“Good morning.” Morgan kissed him right back, cuddling close to him.
She wanted him more than she could believe; it was so excruciating, lying here next to him, holding him at arm’s length physically. Emotionally, they were back to being as close as two people could be. This was killing her.
“I asked what you were thinking about,” Declan repeated while running his hand down the length of her arm.
She studied his arms in the early morning light. The scars were faded, but still told a story. If only she could have talked him out of going to Afghanistan all those years ago. Where would they be now? Married for sure, but would there be children? She was sure that there would have been. Maybe a little guy that looked just like his dad, or a girl who looked up to her daddy, thinking he was a hero. Declan was certainly a hero in her eyes. He was the most heroic man she had ever known.
�
�I’m thinking where we would be right now if…” She let her words fade away; they both knew exactly what she was thinking.
“We would be the happiest couple alive, maybe even bickering over who took the garbage out last or whose turn it is to do the dishes.” He chuckled, playing with her hair now.
Somehow that sounded like heaven to her and she abruptly wiped a tear away.
“Hey, hey. Don’t do that.” He kissed the tip of her nose, his mouth wandered, now finding her lips. She could feel herself melting in his embrace.
“Declan.”
They were laying together, in the same bed, the chemistry between them amazing. She had to stop this. Sitting up, she drew the blankets around herself. Declan stiffened, clearly disappointed.
“Morgan, what are we going to do here? This is crazy. It’s not wrong. We loved each other so long ago, still love each other.”
“Declan, you promised. You swore you wouldn’t pressure me.”
That seemed to give him pause.
“Fair enough. Just answer this one question, will you?” He turned her face toward his with his large hands. “Do you love him more than me?”
What kind of question was that? “That’s not fair!” she cried out, jumping out of bed, clad only in her t-shirt and underwear.
“Answer me,” he demanded. “Answer me.” His voice was louder.
“No, I won’t.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, acting like a stubborn child.
“Look at you. Just look at you. You love me more, otherwise you would just answer me.” A grin started playing on his lips.
“I want you out of here, Declan Blake!” she yelled, her finger pointing at the door.
His smile never left his face. “Same old Morgan. Hey, this feels good though — our little fights. The best thing I remember is how nice it was to make-up.” He winked at her.
He had some nerve! Throwing a pillow at him, she yelled. “Out!”
He reached beside the bed for his prosthetic limb as his laughter escaped. With a huff he pushed the prosthetic in place, then grabbed his pants and threw on his shirt. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
