8. Illiana
This has been one of the hardest days of my life. I lost Jax, but what I didn’t realize was that I lost him a long time ago. It’s my fault. It has to be. His gun keeps calling my name. Eventually I’m going to snap. I can feel it in my bones. I keep telling myself that I just need to worry about Blake, to focus on her. The hard part is that whenever I look at her beautiful little cherub face, all I see is Jaxon. She’s the spitting image of her daddy. My sweet girl doesn’t understand that her daddy is never coming back home. How do you explain death to such a young child? I’m at a loss for words. She’s been asking when Jaxon is coming home. Each time she does, I break down. I have to go into my bedroom or bathroom, lock the door, and just cry my eyes out. My world is spinning. There’s no doubt that I’m spiraling. If only I had something to numb this pain that I’m feeling deep down in my chest. Why does it hurt so badly? Knowing that Jax didn’t really love me should make me feel different, but it doesn’t. If he loved me, then he wouldn’t have cheated on me and destroyed this family.
Being underneath everyone’s scrutiny like this feels like they are pointing the finger at me. Don’t worry, I blame myself too. I feel naked and violated at the same time. It feels like spiders are crawling all over me, burrowing skin deep. Maybe that’s just from all the people staring. Sitting in the front row is like being under a microscope, and my anxiety flares up a notch. The thought that I’m going to have to watch Jaxon’s casket get lowered into the ground while sitting this close makes me sick to my stomach. And I know that most of these people probably don’t know what Jaxon was doing in his free time, but I do, and that makes it all hurt even more.
There are so many people here with us today. All of these people loved Jaxon. Both of our moms came together. So many of the guys from his unit are here, too. I bet they knew he was fucking around. As I’m looking around, I catch Lachlan out of the corner of my eye. He’s sitting a few rows back. I wonder why he hasn’t come up to me yet? I hope he isn’t pitying me. That’s the last thing I want. Continuing my survey of the crowd, I see someone that I definitely wasn’t expecting here. Christina is here and sitting right next to her is none other than Ben. What the fuck is going on there? Christina glances up and sees me staring at her. Her face twists into a scowl, and then she smirks, placing her hand on her belly and rubbing. She fucking smirks at me. Like this is some kind of joke. What a bitch. She is one of the reasons that my entire life has been turned upside down. I may be sweet, meek even, but if she wasn’t pregnant, I’d slap that smirk off her face. Turning back around in my chair, I focus on the continuation of the service.
The bagpipes play. The sound is melodic, eerie, and down right heart breaking. As they play, they walk away from the gravesite. Goosebumps trail down my spine. There’s a tingling pressure at the back of my eyes, but I will not cry. I will not cry. Jax doesn’t deserve my tears right now. What I deserve is answers.
The pastor begins the eulogy as the last note ends. “We are here today to celebrate the life of an amazing man. Jaxon McBride was a beloved husband, father, son, and friend. In his brief life, he accomplished more than most people his age do. Everyone that knew him, knows the man that he was. He loved his family, and he loved them hard. There’s nothing he wouldn’t have done for them. He dedicated himself to his job. His love for our country is insurmountable. Jaxon’s absence will be deeply felt, beyond what words can describe.”
I don’t know if I can continue to sit here and listen to the pastor talk about how great Jax was. He was a good man until he wasn’t. All the bitter sweet lies that he told sit sour on my tongue, as bile rises up my throat. I’m going to be sick. None of these people truly knew Jaxon. Hell, I thought I knew the real him, but that was all a fucking lie. I’m so disgusted. Fuck, I need to get myself tested. I swear if he gave me something, I’m going to go to hell and beat his ass. But first, I’ll beat that bitch’s ass. The nerve of her to show up here.
The pastor drones on and on, and I continue to tune him out. Our moms and Blake need my support right now, and I’ll be damned if I let them down. I won’t tarnish the memory they have of him, either. All his secrets will simmer and eat at my soul day by day. But they’ll be secrets. I’ll take them to my grave if I have to. All I know is that I won’t hurt our mother’s, the women that have loved and cared for us our entire lives. Learning about what Jaxon has done would destroy both of our mothers. Lena raised him to be a good man. She would be devastated. And I most certainly won’t hurt my daughter. She deserves better than that.
The eulogy ending brings me out of my thoughts. Gun shots sound off and I almost jump out of my skin. Shot after shot rings out in the sunless afternoon sky, echoing off the surrounding trees. Rain drops lightly hit my cheeks, cooling my overheated skin. Each shot makes me inwardly flinch, and I hold on to Blakely even tighter. Fat tears are rolling down her rosy cheeks. My baby is terrified right now. She’s never heard gunshots before.
When the last shot rings out, they take their time to remove and fold the flag from the casket. In the next instance, someone in uniform is standing before me. “On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.” Taking the flag and placing it in my lap, I can’t hold it in any longer. Tears stream down my face as sobs wrack my body. This can’t be the end. Why did he have to leave me? How could he do this to our daughter?
“Thank you so much,” I say. There’s nothing else to be said. This is our ending. I need to work on making a better and brighter future for myself and my daughter. They slowly lower Jaxon’s casket into the ground. That’s when it all really hits home. The tears that were falling, pick up into a steady, never-ending stream. Chest heaving, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. Maybe if I close my eyes, this will all have been a dream when I reopen them.
“I wish I may; I wish I might, Have this wish I wish tonight.”
But this isn’t a fairytale, so there’s no sense in wishing because it wouldn’t come true, anyway. No one will grant wishes, especially not mine.