Danny Boy

Danny sat at the table, his elbows resting on the grainy mahogany surface and his fists clenched in his dark hair.

“She’s married”

He heard the phrase whispered in his ear over and over again as if some tormenting demon stood at his side. Again and again he muttered the phrase to himself, his tone of disbelief slowly morphing into one of despair. Yet, no matter how many times he heard it or spoke it, he still couldn’t make any more sense of it. She was his! He knew she was his! He had known since he had first met her that she was meant for him!

Madeline, with her big, almond shaped eyes and laughing smile, had been the only girl to agree to go to a dance with him his awkward freshman year of high school. They had been best friends since before he could remember; he couldn’t remember life with out her! He could tell her anything; even his deepest, darkest secret he had readily given to her when it became too much for him to bear alone. She always took him seriously when he needed it, and told him how stupid he was acting when the occasion called for it. She knew him inside and out and he loved her for it. He would have done anything for her—travelled to the moon, fought off an entire army singlehandedly—he would even have died for her! And yet, she asked the impossible of him; she asked that he give her up. She had supported him when he decided a year’s internship in London would make all his financial dreams come true, but she hadn’t promised anything. Of course, he hadn’t asked anything of her either, but he thought it would be understood! Now his job was secure, he would be a very rich man after just a few years of work, but he was not satisfied. He came home expecting her to be there, her soft brown curls and bright hazel eyes waiting for him, instead he arrived home to that torturous phrase,

“She’s married.”