This was not what she had had in mind.

Eleanor Carnegie had been through the first of the five stages of grief and somehow she thought she was permanently stuck on anger. Whenever she thought about him, she was angry. Whenever she thought about her, she was angry. And whenever she thought about the transmission she wanted to throw something at the wall. She could only hope she would jump directly to acceptance, without passing go and without collecting two hundred dollars. Somehow she doubted that was going to happen.

Kicking open the door to her new quarters on board the Chimera, Eleanor sent her bags flying across the room and onto her bed. Or at least towards it, hoping they would land as close as they could. After anger came bargaining. Well, that one was definitely not going to happen. She had done everything for him, including extending her time on board the Annapolis by six months. All to be with him. And what had he done? He had kicked her in her proverbial nuts as soon as she had left the ship. Bargaining… Eleanor scoffed. That was not going to happen.

With a sigh, Carnegie sat for a moment on the edge of her bed. She felt sick to her stomach. And not in the same way she was used to feeling during training. In a way that felt like her own heart was mourning. Somehow she felt like sticking a knife to her stomach would be more tolerable than what she was going through. All she wanted was to cry. All she wanted was to cry…

For a moment, the thought uplifted her spirit. Depression came after bargaining. Was she finally done with anger? She certainly hoped so. Depression… depression she knew how to deal with.

Getting up, Eleanor walked to the small bathroom and washed her face. Returning to her room, she rummaged through her duffel bag and found a shirt that was less wrinkled and smelly than the one she was currently wearing. It was an old Pittsburgh Steelers t-shirt. She didn’t feel fancy, nor did she want to.

Finally, grabbing her loyal bomber jacket and her SFMC baseball cap, she walked out the door. The last of the five stages of grief might be acceptance, but to William Baker, his best hope was that Eleanor’s last stage was forgetting.

CPT Carnegie, Recon Squadron CO