Prologue

Josie

Watching as the coffin was slowly lowered into the damp, dew-stained ground, silent tears streamed down my face. The pain of the last three months was now showing outwardly to the world, refusing to remain hidden any longer. The weight loss from not taking care of myself properly must have been visible to those at the graveside. My once-fitted black A-line dress hung limply on my slender body like an empty potato sack on a hook, waiting to be refilled.

The entire day had been overwhelming. From seeing the flag-draped coffin arrive in the hearse and being carried to the church by family pallbearers via a guard of honour from his regiment to now, when I could hear the last post playing on a lone bugle. My tears fell harder as I was gently guided to stand in the appropriate location by my sister, while the other mourners paid their respects to Gabe and their condolences to me. They filed past with a gentle hug or a peck on the cheek and words—so many words they wanted to share. I hardly took any of them in.

Once the last mourner had passed, I returned to my seat. I didn’t want to leave. I sat staring at the mound of dirt that had been scattered by people saying their last goodbye, watching as the slight breeze took tiny particles down the slope that had been created out of nothing. Leaving would make it final. The weight of the folded union flag in its neat triangle was heavy on my lap. The only thing left as a reminder of his military service. The flag was another symbol of the finality, reminding me that the knock on the door all those weeks ago hadn’t been a mistake. It really was my husband who had died during the ambush on tour, along with others in his convoy. I was still coming to terms with it. Gabe’s funeral was the first to be held.

Gabe had been on his third tour of duty since enlisting, his first deployment since our wedding just the year before. We hadn’t had time to think about what came next; a family of our own. Instead, I was burying the love of my life and I had become a widow at just twenty-four. His life had ended so suddenly, just like mine. Now, I had to find a way to face the future. The immediate aftermath was the wake, where his family, both blood and military, would share memories. I just wasn’t sure how much my already broken heart could take.

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