“Don’t say ‘fine.’ You’re not fine. You’re crying and you’ve never been a liar so don’t be one now. Come here,” he says as he steps forward with arms open.
I walk toward him and slam into his chest as his arms wrap around me like a vise. The mix of emotions comes crashing around me and I sob in his arms. “Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he just stay home? I hate this. I’m so alone. I want him home,” I cry out as my fingers grip his shirt and hold on. “I need him so much! I miss him so much it hurts to breathe!” I pull Liam close as I lose it. “God! It’s not fair!”
“No, it’s not,” he says as he rubs his hand up and down my back.
“But he left and now I live every day wishing he didn’t get on that damn plane. He was out! He wasn’t supposed to die!” My legs start to crumble but Liam keeps me up.
“You’re so strong, Lee.” I look up and his eyes say so much. “Don’t downplay how hard this is.”
His words envelope me and I know it’s true. I’m strong, but there are parts of me that aren’t. I never want to know pain like this again. I’ve built a fortress around myself because I have to protect my daughter and myself. I realize where I am, in his arms, crying in the ocean. “I’m a mess. I’m so sorry.”
“Natalie, goddammit, stop saying you’re fucking sorry. Have you cried at all since he died? Have you let yourself grieve at all?”
I step back and he grabs my wrist. My eyes stay downcast as I try to muster any strength I have left. “Yes, I grieved.” I glance at him and draw in a deep cleansing breath. “What good does crying do? He’s dead. He won’t ever come home. I have a daughter, a house, a mortgage, and a shit ton of other things to worry about.” The words rush out uncontrollably. “You get to go on your missions and escape the hell that slaps me in the face every day. I’m alone, Liam. He left and all I have is a folded up flag and a lifetime of heartache. So, yeah, I grieve.”
Liam releases my arms and steps out of the waves. “You think missions are an escape? We all remember the men we’ve lost when we go out there. We look around and know the plane could be one body less. That it actually is a body less. I know the chances and I live for this. I hate that you have a flag on your mantel and would give anything to trade places with him. What the fuck do I leave behind?”
I take a step toward him and close my eyes. I know how they all feel about each other. They trust each other more than a husband and wife. To Aaron, his teammates were whether he lived or died. So many nights we spent talking about how he would take a bullet for any of them. I remember being so angry and yelling about how stupid he was. How he was willing to die for one of them and how that would affect me. He would kiss me and tell me it was the way it was.
“I think Aaron would’ve wanted it this way.”
Liam looks up and our eyes lock. I see the man he is. The man who would’ve taken his place but can’t, so he’s here—for me. Every day, Liam is here. He helps me, makes me laugh and smile. Cares for us.
“He would’ve what?” he asks confused. His hands clench, and I step forward and give him some of the comfort he’s given me.
“Wanted to die like this. To feel like it was for something or someone. If Mark or Jackson would’ve gone on that mission, he would’ve hated himself. Wishing he could’ve taken their place. He always wanted to go down in a blaze of glory. To die for a reason. I don’t know what the damn reason is though.”
“Me either. I would’ve gladly changed places with him. He had you and Aarabelle to live for.” Liam’s hand grabs mine and he pulls me close. “Are you gonna be okay?”
I do have Aarabelle and I have my entire life ahead of me. I deserve to be happy and it’s time I started to live like it.
I look up and give a tiny nod, “I think I will be.”
“I think you will too.”
“Knock, knock,” I hear Reanell call as she opens my door.
“What’s up, my love?” I ask, my voice radiating with delight.
“You’re awful perky this morning,” she looks at me skeptically.
I’m starting a new outlook from this day forward. I can continue to be sad and mopey or I can remember Aaron as the man he was. The husband, sailor, and hero, not the martyr I’ve made him. I go back to work in a few weeks, I have a great support system. It’s time to start taking baby steps.
“Well, who wouldn’t smile at your beautiful face?” I ask sweetly.
“Could it be the sex-on-a-stick outside shirtless fixing the shed?” She looks out the window as she moans. “God, men like him aren’t real. They’re sent to toy with us.”
Looking behind her, I suppress a groan. She’ll take that as something it’s not. But seriously, holy shit. His back is taut and the muscles ripple as he lifts the two-by-four and then nails it into place. His arms flex and I gawk. He wipes his brow as the sweat trickles down his face and I fight the urge to keep looking. I turn my head but my eyes stay glued to him.
Reanell clears her throat and stares at me with her brow raised. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
“Nothing. What?” I pretend to sound confused at what she saw.