“You ready?” Mark asks from behind me. He’s wearing his full dress uniform, white gloves and all.
With a little help I was able to get my dress blues on. The only time I’ve worn this uniform since I got out was for the last team member we lost a few months ago. I hate how once again I’m putting it on for the same reason. In fact, this is pretty much the only time I wear it. I’m going to fucking burn it after this, and then maybe we’ll stop having to go to funerals.
I straighten my belt and huff. I can’t do this. I can’t bury another friend. “Fuck. I can’t do this. Just go without me,” I say looking away.
Next thing that registers is his fist connecting with my bad shoulder.
“What the fuck?” I ask while trying to get rid of the stinging in my arm.
“You’re going. I’ll punch you in the fucking face if you even try to say it again. You shut your mouth and listen. Maybe when you were taking your little nap you didn’t hear me, maybe your tiny brain can’t retain it, but I’ve had enough of your goddamn bullshit. You’re going! I swear to fucking God you’re going today,” Mark rages and runs his hand down his face.
I’ve never seen him so pissed—well, not at me at least. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Of course not! You weren’t the only one in that village, asshole. You weren’t the only one who watched Aaron go and handle the issues in Afghanistan that either one of us could’ve dealt with. You didn’t fucking go to Natalie and tell her that her husband was dead. No, fucker, I did that. I had to knock on her door, catch her in my arms as she lost it. So kiss my fucking ass.”
“Keep it up, dickhead,” I warn.
He turns as if I didn’t say anything and mocks me, “‘I’m not going.’ My fucking ass you’re not. You’re not the only one who’s ever lost anyone!” he yells and punches the door. “I fucking lost them too! They were my friends too, Muff. You aren’t the only one who lives with guilt!” Mark chokes on the last part.
“I know that!” I yell back at him. “But I sent them to their deaths! I live with this every fucking day.”
“You still don’t get it. We were a fucking team. I left the Navy after you did because where you go, I go. I followed because you, me, and Aaron—we’re a team.” Mark balls his fists up and steps toward me. “You aren’t the only one in this team. I’ve watched every single fucking one of them die. I watched you die too, you son of a bitch.” He points his finger and jabs me in the chest. I push him back away from me. And he stumbles.
“Don’t fucking push me,” I say strained.
“You want to fight me? Today? You want me to fucking lay you out?” Mark says taunting me and throwing his hands up.
“Fuck you!” I don’t want to fight him but he’s about to push me there.
“No, fuck you! I’m not sitting around acting like I’m the only person who suffers. It’s what the job is. You know this. I know this. When we became SEALs we knew we could die but it’s what we lived for. Losing him though—he wasn’t supposed to die.”
The words I want to say to him won’t come out. I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t. He’s lost as many friends as I have. As much as I want to say something, he’s right. Mark and Aaron worked together every day. They spent more time together than I did in the last year while I was cleaning up my mess of a life.
After a few minutes of us pissed off with our fists ready to strike, we both take a step back. “He was a brother to me,” he says. I look up and he shakes his head. “He was a better man than me or you. He didn’t deserve to die.”
“I know. It should’ve been me,” I say, feeling devoid of any emotion.
“It shouldn’t have been any of us.”
“I don’t ever want to wear this uniform again,” I say, fixing my jacket from the near fight with Mark.
He looks over and grips his neck. “I’m tired of attending these funerals. The next one I plan to go to is my own. And I won’t give a fuck what you wear.”
There are times when I wish we were back eight years ago, young, dumb, and ignorant to the world around us. We thought we were invincible. Who the fuck was going to bring down a group of SEALs? No one. We lived in this idealistic world that we could live dangerous and not pay for our sins.
We weren’t married, no kids, just money to burn and tails to chase. The missions were, in our minds, fun. The deployments were what we looked forward to. I couldn’t wait to be away, because Virginia was fucking boring.
“Dude, I—” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“Not today, Muff.” He shakes his head. “I’ll kick your ass another day, but not today. Come on, let’s go.”
Today is going to be hard on everyone, but especially Mark.
We get to the funeral site without further incident. I’m able to put pressure on my leg now as long as I use a crutch, but today I won’t be using it. I’ll stand through the pain because it will be my reminder. I’ll fight through the hurt because Aaron deserves it.
There’s a tent set up, and Natalie and her family are sitting while the color guard stands guard of the urn. There are a few of the team guys here along with some of their wives. I say hello to everyone and stand off in the back.
Natalie comes over to me hesitantly. “Jackson, thank you for doing all this.” She bites her lip and a tear falls.
“Nat, you don’t owe me anything.”
She gives a sad smile. “Aaron loved you like a brother.”
I ball my fists and stand up taller, “I’m sor— ”
Natalie puts her hand on my arm and cuts me off. “Don’t you dare say it. You didn’t kill him. I hate everyone telling me they’re sorry because I can bet you a thousand dollars if it were you or Mark, he would wish it was him.”
Her mother comes up behind her and hands her Aarabelle. She’s a beautiful baby with dark hair and Natalie holds her close. Natalie turns to me while I gaze at the tiny infant in her arms. “I have a piece of him,” she says as she rocks back and forth.
I look up and she kisses Aarabelle’s head. Mark and I stand there together watching her walk over and talk to the other team guys who are here.
The feeling in the air shifts and my body registers Catherine’s presence. My heart pounds harder in my chest as I scan the area looking for her.
“Dude,” Mark grips my shoulder and points over at our former Senior Chief as he approaches. “Look, it’s Wolf.”
I don’t respond because I know she’s here. Finally, I catch a glimpse of her. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. The pictures I have of us don’t do her justice. Her hair blows in the wind and I fight the urge to go to her, fall on my knees, and grovel. I want to wrap her in my arms, beg her for forgiveness, and bury myself in her and never leave, but I know it’ll do no good. She’s made it clear that she’s done. Her sunglasses hide her eyes, but the way she’s holding on to Ashton leads me to believe she’s upset.
I see her nod and look over at the crowd, but she doesn’t see me—or at least doesn’t acknowledge in any way that she does.
Every part of me is pulled toward her. But once again she shuts me out.
“Cole, it’s good to see you. I wish it was under better circumstances,” Senior Chief Wolfel says.
I shake his hand. “I agree, Wolf, but it’s good to see you as well.”
“I hear the company is doing well.”
I nod, trying to keep my eyes on Catherine as she approaches with her head down. I’m willing her to look at me, but her head stays firmly downcast and she maintains her distance. “Yes, I’m focusing on growing the firm. Mark and I are looking at doing some bigger bids.”
The priest who begins to speak halts our conversation. His voice is somber and the mood within the tent shifts. He talks about Aaron’s life as a kid, his heroism as an adult, and the absence his loss brings. There’s no comfort because the pain will never completely fade. Sure, it will lessen in time, but Natalie is a widow, Aarabelle will grow up without a father. She’ll suffer the loss of a great man and she’ll never know why.
I gaze at the woman I lost. She wipes her cheek and her body shakes. My feet move without permission. I can’t watch her suffer and not go to her. She’s falling apart. One step closer, then I feel Mark grip my shoulder, holding me in place. He shakes his head and I stay where I am, but my eyes stay locked on Catherine.
“Today, we remember a hero who lost his life too soon. We remember the man who fought through wars and protected those who couldn’t protect themselves. We remember a husband, a son, a father, and a friend.” The priest looks up and I hear Natalie cry louder while people wrap their arms around her.
My shipmates stand off to the side and begin the military funeral honors. The bugle plays “Taps” and the sounds of people crying grow louder. The sound of that song haunts me.
Two sailors accompany our former Senior Chief who’s presenting the flag to her. He kneels and says the words every woman never wants to hear. The apology that should never come. A grateful fucking nation my ass. How about telling her we’ll kill the fuckers who made her have to hold that folded flag.
Mark and I stand watching her sob, holding the baby to her chest. The echo of her cries breaks our stance. We push forward at the same time and each put our hands on her shoulders. Letting her know she’s not alone and we’re here. Even with the throbbing radiating from my leg, I refuse to move. Fuck the pain, because it’s nothing compared to what she’s feeling. Her chest heaves as we stand guard behind her.
I hear the people crying behind me but one sound breaks my hold. The person who matters most to me and the only one I’d be willing to move for. I look over and see Ashton pull her close. I look over at Mark who nods once and puts his hand on Natalie’s other shoulder relieving me from my position.
Walking up behind Catherine, without thinking, my hand drifts up her back and rests on the skin of her shoulder. A jolt runs through me from being this close to her. Within seconds, the feelings I’d managed to push away come barreling forward. I need to touch her and feel her against me.
“Catherine,” my voice is low and full of emotion.
She sobs, falling forward, and Ashton catches her. She shakes in her arms but I won’t move my hand. I can’t stop touching her. I won’t stop. She’s mine and I will protect her. Looking at Ashton she closes her eyes and gives a small nod.
It’s all the permission I need. I grab a hold of Catherine and pull her into my arms. I hold her once again and my world shifts. Her touch, the smell of vanilla hits me, and I can’t fucking breathe. Everything that matters is in my arms and I won’t let go of her again.
“Catherine, it’s okay,” I say softly, running my hands down her hair. I pull her close not allowing any space between us.
She clutches me and pulls me even closer as she buries her head in my chest. This insanity will end. She’ll know everything today, and she’s not leaving me ever again.
“Jackson,” she cries and takes a deep breath. “Please,” she pleads, but I don’t know what the hell she’s asking for.
Catherine starts to pull back, but I tighten my grip and shift on my leg trying to balance. “I’m not letting go. I need you right now,” I say unashamed.
She nods into my chest as the funeral goes on. Just her being here gives me the strength I need. It allows me to say farewell to my brother-in-arms.
People filter out, but we stand here clutching each other.
Mark removes his pin from his chest and walks to the urn. He closes his eyes and places it down. The moments pass as he stands there saying goodbye silently. After a few minutes, Ashton walks over and places her hand on his shoulder. He grips her hand and they walk away.
It’s my turn. I release Catherine and remove my trident. I grip her face and stare into her eyes. I see all the hurt and pain in her, and I swear I’ll never be the cause of that look again. Once she knows everything we can move forward.
“I have to—”
Catherine’s hand touches my lips silencing me. She leans in and places her lips to mine. I don’t want to fucking move. I want to stay with her like this forever. When she leans back, I instantly feel her absence.
Without a word I walk over to the urn. I stand there alone for a moment and tell Aaron everything I need to say.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure she’s okay. I’ll be there for Aarabelle and remind her of the man you were. You’ll never be forgotten,” I say quietly hoping somewhere he hears me. I’ll never break the vow I made to him.
I place the pin next to the other five that lay there from members of our team who came to pay their respects. When I turn to grab Catherine’s hand, I see her heading to the car.
The panic sets in. I’m going to lose her.
“Fuck,” I say, trying to move quickly.
Ashton stands there arguing with her, and I pray it gives me enough time to stop her.
She sees me coming and grabs the keys and closes her door.
I stop moving and stare at her as she rushes to get away.
“Get your head out of your ass and fix this mess you’ve created. If you love her, fight like a man. I’m tired of watching you act like a bitch,” Mark says and throws his keys at me. “Follow her.”
I move as fast as I can and get in Mark’s car, ready to chase her. This isn’t over. Not by a fucking long shot.