Page 93 of The Scout

I had lost them.

My chest caved in on itself, the weight of it suffocating, pressing down like an iron vice. My mind fought to grasp onto something, anything, but the only thing waiting for me was emptiness.

What was life supposed to look like without them?

Will—my brother, my protector, the last real link to my family. The man who had carried me through every loss, who had made the world feel safe even when it wasn’t. And Ryker—God, Ryker. The man who had consumed me, wrecked me, who had carved his name into my soul like it had always been meant to be there.

What did I have without them?

I tried to picture it. Tried to force my mind forward, past the pain, past the devastation, past this horrible day.

Would I be allowed at Ryker’s funeral?

I had no legal claim to him. No ring on my finger. No official title. Just a love that burned through me, a love that felt written in my bones. But that didn’t matter in the end, did it?

His brothers would stand in perfect formation, their faces unreadable, their hands clenched at their sides as the honor guard carried his casket. The sharp crack of the three-volley salute would echo through the air, precise and final. A bugle would cry out the notes ofTaps, haunting in its simplicity, stretching over the gathered mourners like a whispered goodbye.

And then—someone would be given the folded flag.

Who would it be? Marcus, maybe. Or one of his other brothers, the ones who had fought beside him, bled beside him. The ones the military still recognized as his next of kin. Not me.

If we had been married, if we had made it that far, I would have been the one they handed it to. I would have stood there in black, my hands trembling, my heart shattered, as the weight of that flag pressed into my palms. The final symbol of his service, his sacrifice.

But we weren’t married.

We hadn’t made it that far.

And now, we never would.

I’d have to go back to my apartment, back to rooming with Pia, back to standing behind a desk at The Palmetto Rose like my world hadn’t just ended. Like I hadn’t already given myself over to a future that no longer existed.

I had been ready to be his wife.

Ready to carry his name, to build a life with him, to have his babies.

But now what?

The thought of going back, of pretending any part of me was the same, was unbearable.

I wasn’t the same.

And I never would be again.

A ragged sob tore from my throat, my body giving out as I completely collapsed into the damp sand. The earth was cold beneath me, rough and unyielding, but I barely felt it. My hands clawed at the ground, grasping at nothing, at everything, as the weight of grief swallowed me whole.

I wailed, a sound so raw, so broken, it barely felt human. It didn’t matter who heard. Didn’t matter thatRyker’s men were still around, that Folly Beach residents stood frozen in the distance, their faces pale with horror. Nothing mattered.

Because Ryker was gone.

Will was gone.

And I was still here.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and unrelenting, soaking into the sand beneath me. My body trembled with the force of my anguish, my ribs cracking under the pressure of a grief too big to contain.

So this was what it felt like.

This was why people who lost their great loves never recovered. This was why some of them didn’t want to live anymore.

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