Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)(2)

“Can I call someone? Your mom?”

“No, you can’t call anyone because he’s not dead! Go get him, Mark! Go get my husband and bring him home.” I step back pointing my finger at him. “You all promised. He promised.” I clutch my stomach as a sharp pain radiates, but it’s nothing compared to the agony sitting on my chest. Tears flow relentlessly as I struggle against his hold. “He promised.”

“I know he did,” Mark says as he holds my head against his chest.

“He lied.”

My life is gone.

My heart is dead.

I’m a widow at twenty-seven.





“Aaron Gilcher was a man who left this Earth too soon. He was a loving husband, father to his unborn child, and friend,” the priest speaks softly. “We are gathered today to say goodbye but not farewell. He will live in our hearts as long as we hold on to him.” A sob escapes my chest. I can’t hold it in. My stomach drops with the realization that he’s gone. He’s really gone and this solidifies it. The final piece of a puzzle that I was desperate to not put together.

I feel hands grasp my shoulders and squeeze. I don’t need to look to know who they belong to. Jackson and Mark are at my back on either side. Protecting me when my husband no longer can. My mother grips my hand while my father holds Aarabelle. After she was born, I wanted to honor her father. I battled with the name we’d chosen versus something special. In the end, when I saw her, I knew. I wanted her to have part of her father for the rest of her life.

“Lord, please lift the hearts around us and grant them peace during this time. Help us to remember Aaron and give us a sense of calm knowing he’s in your arms.” He finishes the prayer and the part I’ve dreaded most is next.

“Lee, I’m right here,” Mark whispers from behind me.

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 f*ck 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.