Page 88 of Misery In Me

This is my fucking fault.

Another brother was dead on my watch.

The rest of the unit gathers around, their faces somber as they realize what has happened. We form a tight knot of camaraderie and grief, our brothers-in-arms providing comfort in the face of this terrible loss. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what needs to be done. “We need to secure the area and call for extraction,” I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

The others nod, snapping into action. They fan out, clearing the remaining rooms and setting up a perimeter. Morales stays by my side, his presence a constant source of strength.

We wait for the extraction team to get to us, and all I can think about is Ale and the life we’re building together. I wonder if the burden of this loss will ruin everything, if she knows that a part of me will be forever changed by this day. I want to be there for her, to hold her and our children and to forget the horrors of war, if only for a little while.

But for now, I’m here, in the heart of Afghanistan, surrounded by the aftermath of a brutal firefight. My friend is dead, and I am left to pick up the pieces, to lead my unit through this tragedy and ensure that Jackson’s sacrifice is not in vain.

The extraction team arrives, their helicopters kicking up a storm of dust and debris. We load Ryder’s body onto the bird,his body lying there draped in a few ponchos, a stark reminder of the price we pay for freedom. As we take off, I look out over the village, a mix of anger and sadness churning in my gut. This is the reality of war, the harsh truth that we face every day. And yet, we press on, driven by duty, honor, and the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood.

Back at the base, the mood is somber. Ryder’s death casts a long shadow over the entire unit, a reminder of the dangers we face and the sacrifices we make. I find myself drawn to the chapel, a small, quiet space where I can be alone with my thoughts. I grew up religious, but once I was out of the house and had seen what war can do to people, most of it over some convoluted beliefs that their higher power is the way, I stopped going. But right now I need something to keep me grounded.

I sit in the back, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. The burden of responsibility presses down on me, threatening to crush me under its force. I was the team leader. I was supposed to keep them safe. And now Ryder is gone, his life cut short by the cruel hand of war.

My fault.

It’s my fault for not being a better leader.

For not catching on to what was going on around us.

A soft footstep behind me announces Victor’s presence. He takes a seat beside me, his silence a comforting balm to my raging emotions. We sit there for a long time, two warriors united in grief, finding solace in each other’s company.

“You did everything you could, Gage,” Victor says finally, his voice low and grave. “Jackson knew the risks. He was a Marine, through and through. ”

I nod, but the words do little to ease the pain in my chest. “I just keep thinking about Ale and the kids,” I confess. “About how much I want to be there for them, to protect them from all this darkness. And yet, here I am, mired in it, drowning in it.”

Victor places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re a good man, Gage. A good leader. Ryder’s death is a tragedy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything in your power to keep him safe. Sometimes, that’s not enough. But you can’t let this guilt consume you. You have a family waiting for you at home, and they need you to come back whole.”

His words resonate deep within me, stirring something fundamental in my soul. He’s right. I can’t let this guilt define me. I can’t let it eat away at the man I am and the father I want to be. I have to honor Ryder’s memory, to make his sacrifice mean something, and to move forward with my life. He wouldn’t want me torturing myself mentally for the rest of my life because of his death.

I take a deep breath, letting the weight of everything settle. “You’re right,” I say, my voice steady and resolved. “I can’t change what happened, but I can make sure that Ryder’s death wasn’t in vain. I’ll honor his memory by being the best damned father and husband I can be. Because he didn’t get the chance to be one. We can all do that for him.”

We leave the chapel feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The pain of Jackson’s loss will always be with me, a scar on my heart, just like McMahon, but it’s a reminder of the love and camaraderie that binds us all together. I am a Marine, a husband, and a father, and I will face whatever challenges come my way with courage, honor, and an unbreakable spirit.

On the dayof the unit’s departure, the base is a flurry of activity. Helicopters roar overhead, and the air is thick with the scent of fuel and dust. I say my goodbyes to the men that are staying behind for a longer deployment, clapping them onthe back and offering words of encouragement. They are my brothers, my family, and leaving them is bittersweet.

I climb into the helicopter; the rotors kick up a storm as we take to the skies. Below us, the base shrinks into the distance, a testament to the life I’ve led and the sacrifices I’ve made. We fly towards the airfield and I allow myself a moment of reflection. The journey home is long, but I am eager to see Ale, to hold her and our children, and to start the next chapter of our lives together. The heaviness of Ryder’s loss will always be with me, but it’s a reminder of the love and strength that defines us as Marines and as a family.

THIRTY-SEVEN

GAGE

The bus rolls to a stop, and the familiar sight of a sea of family members greets us. The sight is both exhilarating and overwhelming. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the emotional roller coaster that awaits. This is it—the moment I’ve been dreaming of since I got the orders to deploy.

I’m home.

As I step off the bus, the crowd parts slightly, and there she is—Ale. Her face is a mix of joy, relief, and barely contained tears. My eyes trail her body and I am awestruck. Ale’s in the prettiest long, blue maternity dress, her belly round, looking absolutely stunning. She’s holding Zoe, who is squirming excitedly in her arms, reaching out towards me. Behind them, I see Morales’ wife, along with a few other familiar faces from our unit’s families.

But my focus is solely on Ale and Zoe.

My wife and daughter.

I make my way towards them, my heart pounding in my chest. Moving before them and embracing both of them, kissing Ale so softly that it’s almost like a dream that I’m really home.

“Daddy’s home,Princesa,” I whisper, not believing that I’m actually here. She giggles, and it’s the most magical sound I’ve ever heard, her little hands exploring every inch of me as if to make sure I’m real. “Da…” Then she blows some raspberries on my cheek, making the both of us laugh.

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