I look at my reflection in the mirror and smile. My attempt is obviously fake and anyone would notice. I sigh and clasp my clutch with force. I thought about being a no-show tonight, but that would be fucked up and I’m sure someone would show up at my front door and demand my presence.
It’s going to be a long night.
I run my fingers over the framed picture on the small table in my foyer and leave just as my phone rings. When I see Olivia’s name displayed on the screen, I hit ignore and get in my car, careful not to ruin my black gown. My best friend doesn’t deserve my silence, but I don’t feel like talking. I’ll see her soon enough at the church.
I exhale, barely keeping myself in check. I promised myself I would smile, even if it was my fake smile, and hold in the tears, because there is no way these would be happy tears. I clap softly as everyone cheers, watching Ryder lean in and kiss the hell out of Jen. I’m happy for them. I really am. And at any other point in my life—anytime before the last eight months—I would have been the first one calling out their names and cheering them on. But now… I take a stabilizing breath. Now, things are different.
Jen is Olivia’s cousin. She’s one of us, and I have known her since she was a pesky teenager. Ryder is Olivia’s husband, Cash’s, best friend and bandmate. They finally got their happy ending after years of dating.
Happy endings. I sigh.
Olivia catches my eye as she walks down the aisle with Cash on her arm and offers a small smile. I give her a quick nod and leave the church before Jen and Ryder even make it half way down the aisle. I stumble into the bathroom and lean my back against the door.
I knew the risk. I knew the consequences of being an Army wife. But what I wanted most in the world was to be with Josh, live a life with him. I got the wedding, the love-induced years, the stress before and after. The one thing I’m thankful for is that we didn’t have kids. As selfish as that sounds, I don’t think I’d be able to watch a child miss their father day in and day out.
If I could go back all those years and demand him not to enlist in the Army, I would. I would tell him what a stupid mistake that would be. I would hit his chest and beg, if it would mean he would be here with me today. But I know life doesn’t work that way. We can’t force people to choose. Ultimatums are deaths, not saviors. And, realistically, I would never have made Josh choose between his career and me. He loved what he did, and he served his country with pride. One of the things I loved most was his devotion and big heart.
A small knock on the door tears me away from my thoughts.
“Bri?”
“I just need a minute. I’ll be right out.” I wipe under my eyes, careful not to ruin my mascara. As soon as I move from the door and head to the sink, Olivia walks into the bathroom.
“Hey,” she whispers and watches me dab a paper towel under my eyes. I give her a tight-lipped grin. She nods knowingly, but keeps the silence. For the first time in our friendship, Olivia has no idea what to do to help me, so she offers silent consolation. No one can do anything to make this go away.
Olivia holds my hand when I’m done and squeezes gently. I want to slip through the floor and disappear. I want to see him again. I choke up, my throat sore from unshed tears, and curse myself for saying I would attend Jen’s wedding. I swallow back tears and avoid the eyes of the people on the other side of the bathroom door.
“Hi, Bri.” Cash embraces me in a hug. I brush him off and go for a smile. This is supposed to be a happy day. A day of celebration for Jen and Ryder. I refuse to make this about me and my loss.
“Hey. Congrats guys!” Jen notices my forceful excitement but lets it slide. I thank her, and give her a big hug. “Married.” I shake my head in disbelief. “To this guy.” I jerk my thumb toward Ryder.
“Damn straight!” Ryder smiles widely. “Thanks for coming, Bri.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I lie. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be taking pictures or something? What the hell are you doing standing in front of the bathroom?” I try for joking and hug Cole and Jason, the two other members of Rebel Desire. They all look at each other with worry. I don’t want to be a cause for concern, today or any other day. I want them to be happy and celebrate their special day. I want them to speak freely about their excitement instead of walking on eggshells around me. I normally avoid those situations.
“I’ll see you at the reception,” I tell them and walk to my car. I sit in the silence of my vehicle and allow the dam to overflow.
I slam the steering wheel, as I cover my mouth with my other hand, sobs wracking my body. I want to yell, say something that will release the anger but ever since Josh died, I have been silent. The anger refusing to escape me. Only pain. Pain swallows me as the tears freefall like a chaotic storm destroying the beauty in its path. I hug my middle and bend forward, trying to catch my breath and hide from any curious onlookers.
I need to get it together or the blotches on my face will give me away at the reception.
“Why’d you leave me?” I hiccup. “Why didn’t you just stay? Quit or retire or whatever the fuck you could have done to stay safe.” I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and reach over to the glove compartment for a face wipe. I’ve learned to carry these in my car to wipe away any telltale residue. I angle the rearview mirror to my face and begin to wipe furiously, not caring if I’m left with no make-up. It’s better than the disaster marking my face at the moment. If someone has a problem with my au-naturel look, they can kiss my ass. Not much can be done about the red covering my skin. Hopefully it evens out by the time I get to Bell Meade Plantation for the reception.
I have to keep it together for the rest of the night. I throw the used wipe onto the passenger seat and return the mirror to its rightful place. Gripping the steering wheel, I look out of the windshield and ignore the eyes staring back at me. I hate being pitied.
I observe the guests as they dance and shout words to the songs the DJ plays. Everything about tonight screams celebration, but my heart’s not in it. I have spent a good part of the evening remembering Josh and my wedding. Reminiscing about our time together. The challenge of being apart for so many years, with short visits throughout, and the happiness I felt when he came back home. When I thought every worry would dissipate because he was safe. At home with me.
I shake those thoughts from my mind before I lose my shit again and take a sip of wine. I catch Olivia looking at me as she dances with Cash, but I shake my head subtly. She smiles gently, her eyes soft. I’ve been shutting her out. I’ve been shutting everyone out.
The only reason I still have my job is because it’s the only thing that keeps me distracted, and the only place where people don’t pity me. I used to complain that my hour-long lunch break was too short. Now I complain that it’s too long.
“How are you doing, Bri?” Jason, Rebel Desire’s bass player, takes the empty seat next to me.
“Good, and you?” I give my automatic response.
“I’m all right.” He sits with me in silence for a little while. The guys have been supportive, along with Olivia and Jen. I’m grateful I have my friends, but that doesn’t lessen the loss I feel in my chest.
I became a widow at thirty-two. After finding the love of my life and having him in my life for over ten years. You don’t bounce back from that. You just wait for each day to pass and hope you can die soon, as well.
“How are you really?” Jason stares at me.
“I’m here, so that has to stand for something.”
“You’re here because you feel you have to be,” Jason challenges.
“You’d all come banging on my door if I didn’t show up.” Jason cracks a smile and drinks the amber liquid in his glass.
“We all know this is a hard time for you, but you’ve got us.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
“Hey! Come dance.” Cole shows up next to us, sleeves rolled up and sweat covering his face.
“I’m good, but you guys go. Jen has some single friends for you guys.” I skirt around the heavier conversation Jason and I were having and try for light.
“Nah, we’re good for tonight. Come on,” he insists.
Jason furrows his eyebrows as he watches Cole.
“Thanks, Cole, but I’m not up for it.” Before Jason can speak up, I tell him, “And it’s not time to continue the conversation we were having. Tonight’s about Jen and Ryder.”
“Okay,” he states and leans back in the chair.
“Well, fuck, I’m going to sit, too.” Cole pulls a chair and sits with us, the three of us in silence while the current song finishes.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you good?” Cole asks.
I glare at him. “How’s the band?” I look at Jason and then him.
“Point taken. We’re working on our third album. Touring is a bitch sometimes, but we’re getting new music written,” Cole answers.
I nod and listen to what they share about their new songs, but my mind is swimming in memories.
An hour later, I hug Jen and Ryder and wish them a ton of happiness. Olivia makes me promise to have lunch with her this week when I say bye, and Cash tells me to come have dinner at their house. Before I can sneak out to my car, Cole calls out my name. I see the same pity in his eyes that I saw before I drove away from the church. He witnessed my breakdown and didn’t mention it all night. Until now, I’m sure.
“What’s up?”
“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened and you want to pretend it isn’t real. I get it. But you do have friends. We’re all here for you, and if you ever need me, I’m a phone call away. I’m good at sitting in silence, too, if words are too much.”
“Thanks, Cole.” He squeezes my fingers gently and smiles.
“You don’t have to break down alone.”
I press my lips into a hard line and nod once.
“Bye, Bri.”
“Bye,” I whisper.
Lunch with Olivia was uneventful, neither of us speaking much to avoid the elephant in the room. I noticed her eyes lingering on my wedding ring when we first sat at the table. I shrugged it off, not apologizing for wearing it.
When I returned to work, my phone vibrated with a text message. Words Olivia couldn’t say out loud rang through my phone screen.
What can I do to help you?
Nothing.
There is nothing anyone can do to make me overcome an experience like this. Josh’s death is one that will shadow me always. Someone can judge that I am allowing the pain to swallow me, but I have no control over the pain in my chest. He wasn’t supposed to go back. He was supposed to work locally, sleep by my side, and grow old with me. Instead, I’m left with the remnants of his life—his clothes and shoes still stocked in our closet, despite the arguments to get rid of them, photographs of our life together, and an intense love I still feel for him regardless of his absence. Sometimes, I swear I smell a lingering flow of his woodsy cologne.
I kick off my heels as soon as I get home from work and tame down the temptation to swing one across the living room. I leave them where they are and pad toward my bedroom. I lean against the doorframe, look in, and sigh.
This was where we last made love. The place we shared our confessions, our fears and dreams. We were ready to start a family. Josh promised we would try as soon as he returned. He was so excited to be a father. The smile he gave me when I agreed made me fall even more in love with him.
I take a deep breath, the silent tears rolling down my cheeks. It will be a futile attempt to wipe them away.
I make my way into the bathroom and discard my clothes while the tub fills. Once it is full, I climb in and let the water take me under. After a few seconds, I emerge, shoving my hair away from my face. I continue this for a long time, hiding beneath the water, hoping it will extort the sadness.
It doesn’t help. It never does.
I get out of the tub and throw on sweats. My pants ride lower on my hips than they used to, but I tell myself that makes them more comfortable. I climb into bed and turn on the television, ignoring the pile of romance novels on my nightstand that used to sweep me away. For once, I am jealous of the paranormal books Olivia reads—I’d kill for immortality right now.
It is still too early for me to sleep, but I have nothing else to do but waste away on this bed until the sun rises again and another day drowns in the horizon.