This is one of "A Second Chance" off-shots, suggested by njborba. Thanks a lot, dude! This can be read alone but of course, we'd like you to read "A Second Chance". Anyways, enjoy and leave us a review. (:
She was so damn hungry; she hadn't eaten since breakfast, yet she didn't felt like eating what her boyfriend had so kindly made for her.
Emily sighed, twirling her fork in her bowl of pasta, not really wanting to eat it. It wasn't that the pasta was bad, it was actually quite good, but she was craving something else. Something that made her upset and happy and nostalgic all at the same time, which was why she didn't want to tell Morgan what she really wanted.
"Baby, do you want something else?" Morgan asked worriedly. "I can make you brownies, if you like..." That seemed to be the most frequent of her cravings and, even if it wasn't what she wanted, she was such a chocoholic that it usually made her feel better anyway.
"No," she shook her head, "I'm fine, really. Don't worry."
"My girlfriend isn't eating, how can I not worry?" he sighed exasperatedly. Moving his chair closer to Emily, he placed his hand on her forehead, checking for fever. "Are you sick? Should I take you to the doctor's? Are you pregnant?"
"No. I'm not sick or pregnant," she replied, emphasizing, "We've been careful and I'm on the pill."
"It's not a hundred percent..." Morgan pressed.
"I'm fine, Derek," she insisted.
He sighed, "Okay." But he wasn't convinced. Looking out the window, he smiled and suggested, "The weather's pretty good today. Let's go out, to the park; you can read and some fresh air might be good us. We can take Clooney along." He was hoping to take her mind off whatever it was that was burdening her mind and so obviously making her sad.
She smiled and leaned in to kiss him briefly. "Thank you, you didn't have to," she whispered against his lips and, before Morgan could tell her that he wanted to, she left to grab Clooney's leash. The golden retriever immediately perked up when he saw it, rushing to Emily's feet and barking happily when she clipped the leash to his collar.
"I feed him and he likes you better..." Morgan grumbled playfully.
******
As the couple took a walk in the park with a hyperactive Clooney pulling them along, Emily's stomach betrayed her and growled loudly. Slightly embarrassed, she lowered her head as a pink tinge crept up her cheeks.
With a chuckle, Morgan pulled her closer and kissed her softly. "Hungry, baby?" When she didn't answer, he sighed and asked, "What exactly are you craving?"
"It's nothing," she insisted.
He raised a brow. "If you thought I'd believe that, you don't know me very well... Come on, honey," he urged gently, "I just want to help you. Tell me what's going on."
"I'm fine. Really," she said flatly. "Please, believe me."
But, looking in her eyes, he didn't believe her. He'd known her long enough to need only look in her eyes to know there was so much more to the story than what was going on at the surface. Her gaze was swirling with internal turmoil, a heavy sadness; he got the sense that she was on the verge of breaking down.
When he said nothing, she plead again, "Please."
"Of course," he promised, kissing her forehead. "Whenever you're ready, I'm here for you."
"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him tightly, never wanting to let go.
******
They spent the next hour in the park; Emily was quietly reading while Morgan and Clooney entertained themselves with a game of fetch. She giggled softly as she watched her boyfriend chase after their dog, shouting for him, hoping that he would turn back instead of jumping into the nearby pond, but Clooney couldn't help being a dog.
"Awww... Clooney!" Morgan groaned, "Now, I'm gonna have to give you a bath."
Emily smiled contentedly when she realized that this was going be what their life would be like in the future. More than once, they had talked about their future together and it never failed to make her giddy like a schoolgirl. Their kids would be so lucky to have a father like him.
She couldn't help but think how different her childhood would have been, what her life would be like, if her own father hadn't left... Today was his birthday. Before he left, they had always celebrated together, though they'd seldom had cake because her mother thought sweets weren't good for Emily. And, attempting to circumvent her rules never worked because, no matter how delicious the cake was, they could never finish it before she came home.
So, instead of cake, they'd replaced it with something else. Something she was craving right now, which was why she refused to have it. It wasn't worth the heartache.
She was startled from her thoughts when Clooney came bounding up and, despite Morgan's demands to sit and stay, promptly flopped down on her lap.
"Oh, Clooney..." Emily and Morgan groaned in unison as his muddy feet stained her clothing. The dog glanced between the two apologetically, whining softly.
"I guess we'd better get you home, get you out of those muddy clothes..." Morgan chuckled, giving her a mischievous smile.
******
Emily sighed, snuggling closer against Morgan's chest as he gently trailed his fingers down her arm. She had needed something to distract her from the dull ache of loss in her heart that that particular day always seemed to bring and the passionate heat of their love-making had fit the bill quite nicely.
Still breathing slightly heavily, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "You haven't eaten all day," he said quietly, "You must be starving." He smirked. "Why don't I make us some pancakes or something."
"No," she held him down when he shifted, hovering above him. "You don't have to," she said sweetly, "I'm not hungry for pancakes."
"Then what are you hungry for?"
"You know what I'm hungry for..." she grinned mischievously, gently stroking his hip.
Morgan sighed softly; at any other time, he would be delighted to make love to Emily again, but this time it was different. She was obviously compartmentalizing again and using their love-making session to help her ignore whatever was bothering her. "Baby, what is going on?" he asked gently.
"It's nothing, really."
"You keep saying that, but you and I both know that's a lie," he said worriedly. "You won't eat. You won't tell me what's going on. I'm really worried, Em. Please, baby, don't shut me out," he pleaded, "I want to help you."
Emily let out a sigh of defeat and rested her head on his chest. Snuggling closer to him when he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing his neck lightly, "I didn't mean to worry you."
"It's okay." He kissed the top of her head and asked, "Why don't you want to eat? Is it because of allergies so you can't have what you want?"
"No, no allergies," she mumbled. "It's waffles... I want waffles."
He was silent for a moment, looking slightly quizzical. "Waffles?" he repeated eventually, "That's what you've been keeping secret?"
"You don't understand," she huffed, getting defensive to compensate for suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
He pressed another soothing kiss to her head. "No, I don't understand, but I'd like to. Tell me," he said encouragingly. He shifted to lie on his side to look her in the eye, kissing her softly, he whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. I wanna know."
"I used to love waffles," she began slowly, "I think I still do, but it reminds me of him..." Seeing Morgan's raised eyebrow, she quickly explained, "My dad. It's his birthday today. We always had waffles on his birthday."
"That sounds like a happy thing... Why don't you want them?"
She shook her head. "It's just so screwed up..." she muttered under her breath, "He leaves and manages to ruin an entire meal..." She sighed. "I hate feeling like this, but I just can't help it. It's this mess of happy because of the good times it represents and sad because he took it all away when he left and a little bit pissed off because even after all this time, he can still do this to me... And I just don't know what to feel. Sometimes I just want to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow and pretend today never even existed."
"I'm sorry, but that's not an option," he said determinedly.
"Not an option?" she scoffed, "What do you mean, 'not an option'? I'd like to see you try and stop me..."
Unphased, he persisted, "You don't want to go through life missing out on things just because someone who couldn't recognize the best thing that ever happened to him chose to walk away, do you?"
She gave him a skeptical look. "What am I supposed to do? Just pretend like it never happened? Because that's not something..."
"Replace it," he cut her off, "We'll make new memories to take its place." She seemed about to argue the point, but he didn't let her interrupt. "You want waffles, let me make them for you. And next time you get a craving for them, don't think about your dad, think about me, about us. Think about the peaceful day at the park, think about making love; just don't think about him. He ruined so much already, don't let him take away your favourite food too..."
"You don't know how to make waffles," she challenged.
Morgan raised his brow and smirked, "Wanna bet?"
"Baby," she sighed, "I don't know if can do that... It's not that simple. You can't just replace memories like you replace worn-out furniture."
He sighed, silently wishing she could understand because he hated seeing her so upset. "It's not replacing the memory of what happened, nothing we can do can change it. But life goes on, the world keeps turning... And if you spend all your time dwelling on the past and things you can't change, then your life will pass you by. I'd hate to see you miss out... You've got to stop looking back and just live; with time, you won't want to think about your father because there will be so many better things to look back on."
She tried to maintain her frown, but he was making a good point and she hated that he was right. "What kind of better things?" she pressed, just because she loved hearing him talk about their future.
"Days like this, your dream wedding, a couple of the most beautiful children you've ever set eyes on..." he listed. "Convinced yet?"
She pursed her lips, feeling her stomach growling. "And this is all going to start with waffles?"
He grinned. "Is that a yes? You'll let me make you waffles?"
She sighed dramatically, "I guess that's alright..."
"This is a good thing," he promised, kissing her quickly before sliding out of bed, "You'll see..."
He was half-way out the door of the bedroom when she worked up her best puppy dog eyes, adding, "With strawberries on the waffles?"
"You got it, princess."
She could hear his footsteps on the stairs when she called after him, "And chocolate?" He just laughed and she silently cursed him for always being right and, at the same time, loving him so damn much for the same reason.