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  Forever My Love

  Copyright © 2022 by MW Dacosta.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2021917772

  ISBN-13:

  Softcover

  978-1-64961-798-9

  eBook

  978-1-64961-799-6

  Printed and bound in The United States of America.

  Dedication

  To all who believe in the power of true love

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Is it possible to lose love and find it again years later? For many of us, true love seems to escape us. We have all fallen in love with someone whom we thought we could spend the rest of our lives with, only to have our hearts crushed and all our dreams evaporate before our eyes.

  I believe that true love can be found, although at times it seems that we may be searching in vain. We should never give up hope because sometimes just when we think that it is never going to happen, it does.

  Maureen had been betrayed by her first love, and even though she tried to love again, it was not the same.

  Anthony, in spite of trickery and deceit, held on to his dream to be reunited with his one true love. If only she knew how much he loves her and wants to make her his. If only she would give him a second chance.

  Just like our two lovers, we too have to believe and be willing to take a chance allowing our hearts to lead the way. When you find your true love, you will be able to say without any hesitation,

  Forever my love.

  Chapter 1

  The alarm clock rang; I reached over to turn it off. It always seems like every time, just when I am settling into the sweetest sleep, that stupid clock jars me awake. Oh well, time to get up. It was 6:45 a.m. I lay there, my eyes looking around my bedroom. I turned my head to look at the man lying next to me. His eyes were closed; I knew he was awake, just pretending to be asleep. I wondered, what had happened to us? Before, mornings like these would have found him holding me close. His arms would be around me, and he would be kissing my neck and my back.

  I have been in this relationship with James for the past three and half years. I had hoped that by now we would have been married. We had decided to move in together, as it didn’t make sense for us to be paying rent for two apartments when we spent so much time together in one of the apartments.

  About fourteen months ago, we had made the decision to move into my apartment, which was nearer to public transportation, and a smaller nonelevator building. The neighborhood was not bad either with a tree-lined street and a large park just two blocks away. I felt that the move was like a prelude to marriage. I thought that it gave both of us a chance to see how well we would live together.

  My mother always said that there is an old adage that says “visit me’’ and ‘live with me’ are two different things.’” My mom had all these sayings that she would quote to us as a situation arose.

  At first, I felt like I was in seventh heaven; I felt we made such a perfect couple. Now, recently I have been wondering what was causing us to drift apart.

  There was a time when we couldn’t get enough of each other. We would get home from work, and before we ate dinner, we would be all over each other, our passion fueled by being away from each other all day at work.

  James had been so romantic, especially when we first got started. I awoke many mornings to his hands caressing my body; we could make love, and he would say the sweetest sensual things. Our lovemaking was great, but as time went on, I began to notice that some little incidents would eventually escalate into a shouting match, leaving us both feeling hurt and upset.

  I snapped out of it and got out of the bed. I went into the bathroom and did the usual morning routine—take a shower, brush my teeth, wash my face, and apply all the toiletries that most women use. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. “Maureen,” I said to myself, “girl, you are getting old.” I was twenty-eight years old, and I worried if I would get married and be able to have a son or a daughter for that matter. I thought myself attractive; I was five feet five inches, and I weighed 130 pounds, and I tried to keep my body in shape by walking daily.

  I was interrupted suddenly as James knocked on the door and said,

  “Maureen, are you going to stay in here all morning? I have to get in there too.”

  “Sorry, babe, I guess I am losing track of time.”

  I put on my robe and went into the kitchen; James had already put the kettle on to boil. I made us two cups of tea. We both drank tea instead of coffee; occasionally, I would enjoy a cup of Joe, but I am a tea baby.

  We never made breakfast before going to work on weekdays; it was just too rush, and we didn’t have the time to enjoy it. Plus, over the years having practiced myself to eating later in the morning, I had no appetite to eat so early anyhow. What we did on mornings instead was to pick up breakfast on our way into the office and ate it here. I took my cup of tea with me to the bedroom as I went into the closet to select a suit to wear.

  I chose a royal-blue skirt suit and got dressed. I love skirt suits or dresses. I never wear pants or pantsuits to work. Call me old fashioned, but I think a woman looks more feminine in a skirt or a dress. Don’t get me wrong, that’s just my opinion and my choice; I just like to look as feminine as I can. I chose a blue floral scarf to go around my neck and a brooch for my lapel. I always took care to coordinate my outfits, an effort that usually pays off by the compliments I receive.

  I am sure my coworkers think I spend my whole paycheck buying clothes. Nothing, however, could be further from the truth. I shop the outlet stores. Sometimes I would go to Connecticut or New Jersey to the outlets to shop. You will be surprised when you see the prices of some of the designer suits. The same suit at any of the big stores would cost you figuratively an arm and a leg.

  As I finished my dressing and my tea, I picked up my handbag and headed for the door.

  “I am leaving, James,” I said. “I will give you a call later.”

  “OK,” he replied through the door. “Have a great day. I will talk to you later.”

  I walked out, slammed and locked the door behind me, and began my daily two-and-a-half block walk to the subway.

  Every day on the subway is an adventure waiting to happen. I must admit in the weeks and months following 9/11, I dreaded coming to the city. Anytime I came home from college, I was fearful of getting on the subway for fear of a terrorist attack. I tried to avoid the subways for a long time until I finally graduated and had to go to work.

  I had gotten a job in Manhattan, so I had no choice but to get on the subway. Now, 2009, it has been eight years since that horrible day. I still get nervous thinking about it.

  I don’t believe I will ever forget that day; upon hearing the news of the planes crashing in the World Trade Center, I was terrified for my parents, especially my father who worked in Manhattan for a delivery service. At any given time, he could be in any part of Manhattan from uptown to downtown. My mother was a social worker also and did some work in Manhattan on occasions.

  I remember frantically trying to get through to them on my cellphone. When I finally got a hold of my mother, she was fine and she had heard from Dad and he was fine and on his way home. Luckily for me, my family was safe, and I was so thankful that nothing had happened to them.

  For days and weeks, as details emerged, I am sure, like many New Yorkers and people around the world, I was in a state of shock. Even now as I take the subway daily, the thoughts of a terrorist attack still linger in the back of my mind.

  Taking the subway, to me, is always a study in human behavior and body language, not to mention that you can never be sure if the trains are running on schedule or whether we will be delayed because of train traffic ahead or a sick passenger. Some days, my twenty-five-minute commute turns into forty or forty-five minutes.

  While I know that New York City has the best subway system in the world (my opinion, of course; after all, I am a native New Yorker), some
days, my commute is quiet enough that I can read a book or a magazine; and other days, there is someone preaching, calling sinners to repent; and still there are other days when the homeless come on begging for money.

  I have seen people with so many afflictions, some so dirty and smelly, that my heart goes out to them. Then I have to deal with the youngsters on the way to school who talk loudly, teasing each other and challenging each other to mock fights and petty augments. I guess this is what makes New York City the greatest city in the world.

  As you listen to the different accents, New York is truly, as they say, “a melting pot.” If you have a keen ear and some background knowledge, you can differentiate the Bajans from the Guyanese, the Jamaicans from the Vincentians, and all the islands in between.

  Truth is, I love New York, with all its diversity and craziness. Today, as I got on the subway, I was able to get a seat, and I pulled out a small book of daily inspirational writing and started to read it. Before I knew it, I was at Hoyt Street, my stop. I got up quickly, and exited the train.

  I came out the subway and onto the street. There is a little restaurant that I usually stop by daily and pick up whatever breakfast I felt like. As I step in the door, Joe or Marty would always say to me,

  “How you doing today, Maureen? What can we fix for you?” I always returned their greeting, and whatever I order was ready quickly, as they just knew I was on my way to work and time was of the essence.

  Today, as usual, the guys greeted me, and I ordered a toasted corn muffin, lightly buttered, and a cup of tea. They knew me so well; I didn’t have to tell them how I like my tea; they knew—tea with milk and one and a half sugar. My order was handed to me; I wished the guys a great day and headed off to the office.

  As I made my way into the building, I was thinking about our upcoming audit and the fact that I wanted to review some of our files to make sure everything was in order. I was also later in the morning, to sit in on an interview for a new fiscal person. Our fiscal person had handed in her resignation three weeks ago. She found a better position with a firm in the city. I was sorry to see her go, but I understand that we each have to follow our own career path.

  On her last day, we all got together and bought her a farewell gift of a lovely pair of gold earrings. I ordered some buffalo wings with coleslaw and potatoes salad along with an assortment of juices, and we had a small send-off party for her.

  Over the past two weeks, I have reviewed about ten resumes for the position and had identified three candidates that I felt we should interview. Today will be the first of the three interviews, which were scheduled for today and tomorrow.

  The candidate that we would be interviewing today sounded very promising; she has worked for another nonprofit organization in Queens. Of course, everyone tries to make themselves look good through their resume. Meeting with them and talking to them usually reveal facets of their personality that cannot be captured in their resume.

  As usual, many days, I am always the one who is first to arrive in the office. I like to be early; it gives me the chance to settle myself and have my breakfast before starting my day. Our executive director Steven also arrives early. As management, it is so important that we set the standard for our employees so that they know that tardiness is not acceptable.

  “Good morning, Maureen,” Steven said as he walked in the office.

  “Good morning, Steven. How are you today?”

  “I’m here thanking God for waking me up this morning. I got a call from Miller, Green, and Cohen yesterday. The auditors will be here Monday morning at nine o’clock. Have you been able to finish reviewing our files to make sure everything is current and up to date?”

  “Not quite finished. I plan to work on that today and tomorrow, so Monday morning, we will be ready.”

  “I know I can count on you to get it done. If you need help with anything, let me know. You could probably use Keisha to help with any filing or copying of documents. I want everything to be right when the auditors get here. An excellent audit means funding for us because donors will see that we use funds as they have been allocated.

  “I hear that, and I will make sure everything is ready when they walk in here Monday morning. Don’t forget we have the interview at eleven o’clock today.”

  “Oh yeah, I will be ready. I have the resume in my office. I will look it over one more time, and when she comes, call me and I will come out to meet her.”

  “OK, will do.”

  I returned to my office. I have my work cut out for me. I understand what Steven was saying; if we hope to continue to receive funding so we could expand into the other boroughs, we have to be transparent in all that we do.

  As we move forward, we are planning to tackle some of the big-named corporations with the hope of receiving grants from them. Currently, most of our funding comes from the state. I was able to get some funds from one of the city agencies, whose goal is to relocate woman and children out of the shelter system and in to their own apartment. We have a meeting scheduled with the city councilman for this area, who has expressed his interest in the work that we are doing.

  We were thrilled when he stopped by at our open house and promised the resources of his office to assist us in whatever capacity they could help. Hopefully, with his help, we will be able to see what other city agencies may be able to help fund some of the programs we plan to institute.

  Right now, however, replacing our fiscal person was key, and we wanted to find that person who will be willing to work and become part of our family here. We need a team player who understands that we all are working toward one goal of providing housing services for New Yorkers. It is our commitment and our belief that all people are entitled to decent and affordable housing.

  I set about working on my project; before I knew it, Keisha was buzzing to say that Ms. Wilson was here for the interview. I put on my jacket that I had removed, buttoned it all way, picked up the phone, and buzzed Steven.

  I walked to the reception area just as Steven came out of his office and joined us.

  “Good morning, Ms. Wilson. I am Maureen Coleman. I had spoken to you when we set up the appointment. This is our director, Steven White. Welcome.”

  I extended my hand and shook her hand, with Steven doing the same.

  “Thank you, Ms. Coleman, Mr. White. Good morning.”

  “If you will follow us, Ms. Wilson, we will be meeting in the conference room.”

  With that, I turned and began my walk, followed by Ms. Wilson, with Steven bringing up the rear.

  For the next twenty minutes, we spoke and learned quite a bit about our candidate; she had a good sense of how the not-for-profit organizations worked. She was definitely qualified, having a BS in accounting and planning to work toward her master’s in finance in the fall. At the end, we thanked her for coming, and we told her she should hear from us by next week. We did let her know that we had two others to interview, and we will inform her once we had completed our interviews.

  As the day came to a close, I was debating whether to work an extra hour this evening, as tomorrow, I wanted to leave on time. I had Diane’s birthday party on Saturday, and I wanted to finalize my outfit. I decided to spend the extra hour and work on making sure I didn’t have to stress myself out when the auditors came.

  I picked up the phone, and I called James to let him know I will be a little late this evening. He said OK, that he too may be late, as he was contemplating stopping at the gym to work out. Oh well, I guess that settles that! I wondered if he would have called me to say something. He never called all day today. Before, I could have expected at least two calls just to see how my day was going.

  Is the writing on the wall for us? “Maureen,” I said myself, “Please stop. You are over thinking again. Don’t you have work to do?” I snapped out of it and turned to the pile of papers on my desk. “Let’s do this,” I said softly, and I started working.

  Chapter 2

  TGIF. I was really happy that it was Friday; I was looking forward to the weekend. We had an invitation to my friend Diane’s birthday party on Saturday evening.

  When I received her invite, I wondered how come she decided to have a birthday party; this was not a milestone birthday for her. I believe that we were the same age. Knowing Diane as I do, it didn’t surprise me, she just loves to entertain. She is someone who doesn’t need an occasion to have a party; she plans and many times just have a soiree for the fun of it.