I nod because if I allow myself to speak, I know I won’t be able to control the emotions threatening to escape. Be strong, this will all be over soon. I look down at my black dress and try to focus on anything but this. I tuck the long, blonde strands of hair that fall around my face back behind my ear. I begin to tremble and Mark’s hand tightens.

The honor guard that had been standing off to the side rounds in front of me. I know the four of them. They were his friends, his brothers, and now they have to give me the last thing any wife wants to ever hold in her hands.

The emotions are shoved down deep, but I can see in his best friend’s eyes how much pain he’s in. Liam flew in from California to be here. He was Aaron’s closest friend for the last eight years. They graduated SEAL training together. The bond forged from risking their lives was unbreakable. The news of Aaron’s death rocked him and he’d vowed to be here.

Liam and Jeff pull the flag taut as I try to keep my eyes open, but I can’t. I hear the slapping of the fabric being snapped tight. I inhale and focus on exhaling. The pain that emanates from my chest is unbearable. I’m being torn apart from the inside out.

I feel my mother squeeze my hand. I look up to see Aaron’s former chief kneel before me. “Natalie, on behalf of the President of the United States and the Chief of Naval Operations, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s service to this Country and a grateful Navy.”

Tears fall uncontrollably as my heart falters. His hand extends and I know I need to take it. I have to . . . but I can’t move my hands. I lift the one and it trembles as I nod. When he places the flag on my hand resting on my lap, I sob again. This can’t really be happening. I mean, I’ve known for three months he was dead, but this . . . this flag is it. It’s the finale I don’t want to happen, proving this isn’t a lie.

My hand drops. I look in his eyes as another tear splatters on my skin.

“I’m sorry, Natalie. Aaron was a great man.”

“Thank you,” I somehow manage to say.

I close my eyes and drop my head.

How is this my life? Why did this happen? How do I go on? All of these questions jolt through me and seethe, festering in my heart.

I hear the sounds of crying all around me, but none of it matters. No one can know the extreme agony I’m living right this moment. Losing the love of my life, the father of my child, eats me alive. My life was exactly as I wanted it. It tears through my body taking anything good and swallowing it whole.

Fuck life.

Fuck love and fuck everyone who told me they were sorry.

I look over at my baby sleeping in her grandfather’s arms. I have Aarabelle. I have a beautiful girl who needs her mother.

The SEALs begin their ritual. I’ve watched and pitied wives who had to sit through it. I wasn’t the one having to suffer during those moments, nevertheless here I am.

Senior Chief Wolfel moves forward and removes the trident from his chest. He steps toward the urn, where a wooden chest sits beside it. The wooden chest takes the place of a casket. There’s no body to bury, just a piece of him. He was blown apart, just like me. Wolfel stands there for a moment before pressing it into the box and pounds it with his fist. The sound of the metal piercing the wood travels through my soul. It’s as if it were penetrating me.

He turns to the urn and salutes.

One down, twenty more to go.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Aaron was a great man,” another member of his former team says to me. I nod, unable to speak, knowing the imminent sound of another pin being pounded will breach the air in a moment. Over and over, the men approach me, offer their condolences, and then continue their ritual with their tridents.

I can’t do this.

I start to shift, but Mark’s hands hold tight. Before I can think, Liam steps forward. His crystal blue eyes are bloodshot as he tries to hold it together. It’s obvious he’s shaken. The bond between Aaron and Liam was unbreakable. “Lee, I . . .” He stops and swallows. I place my hand on his giving him a sign that I don’t need his words. I know what he’s feeling. The loss is evident in his eyes.

“I know,” I say softly. His head bows forward and touches my hand. I place my other hand on the back of his head and I feel him shake.

“He was my brother,” Liam says as another tear falls from my cheek.

“I-I . . .” The stuttering of my words are all I can get out while he looks at me.

He takes a second and draws a deep breath, stands, and walks over to the box. Initially, Liam refused to accept Aaron’s death, since there was very little to identify him. He wanted to believe he was alive somewhere, but I knew. I felt it once I came to accept it.

I glance at my daughter once more. She lies cooing in her grandfather’s arms, completely unaware that she’ll never have the comfort of a father. I’m fortunate to have the man who rocked me and held me when I was in pain hold her now. If I could go back in time and ask my daddy to hold me as his little girl and tell me it’ll be okay, I would. She’s safe and secure, while I feel open and exposed.

Gazing at the sailor who stands before the memorial, I close my eyes and try to dispel the thoughts that assault me. I’ve lost him after all this time. The years of worry and dread while he was active duty I’d endured. Only to have a false sense of security descend once he left the Navy. Now look where all that comfort landed me.

Finally the last pin enters the box and I look up to see Jackson with his head hanging. The guilt he carries for sending Aaron to his death is insurmountable, but I know Aaron wouldn’t have had it any other way. He wanted to die with valor and honor. If it were Jackson or Mark who’d died, he would’ve wished it were him. But now my daughter and I pay the price for his choices.

Glancing around, I acknowledge the others who grieve the loss of this amazing man. I look at the crowd and see the faces of his friends and family. His mother who sobs uncontrollably next to his father. She’s drowning in her anguish as she buries her only son. Former sailors who served beside him and friends from Cole Security Forces sit grief-stricken over his loss.

There are a few faces I don’t recognize. A pretty blonde stands to the side, wiping her eyes. A brunette, who I assume is Catherine, mourns in Jackson’s arms. There are so many people, so many uniforms. It’s a black sea of mourning. Aaron was a loved man, so I’m not surprised, but no one loved him more than me.

Today is the last day I will allow myself to feel sorrow, the last day I will shed tears, because tears don’t change anything. I need to harvest whatever strength I have and hold it tight. I’m a mother who has an infant that needs me to be both mom and dad.

One day, they say. One day this will stop hurting.

Lies.

This will never be okay or stop hurting.

I’ll never be the same. The woman I was before died the minute the knock on the door came. I’m a shell of the woman I was. The woman who was loving, open, and full of hope is gone. Hope is a weak bitch who couldn’t give two fucks about what you want. So I rely on faith. Faith that I’ll make it through this and find my heart again.

Time passes. Hours become days, days turn to weeks, months pass in a blur, and I continue to live. But am I living? I breathe, I get up and get dressed, but I’m numb. Sure I smile and throw on a happy face, but it’s all an illusion. Inside I’m lost in the abyss of grief.