Three weeks. Three weeks, a day, and a little under seven hours; that’s how long it has been since she last talked to him, since she last saw him, hugged him, kissed him, anything. It’s been too long. She knew mail was slow; she knew he was busy. But three weeks? Three weeks, one day, and seven hours with no letter? No phone call or anything? She scrubbed the plate she was currently cleaning harder. Yes, she was frustrated. Cleaning wasn’t helping her, though. She quickly slammed the plate back into the sink and walked away from it. She circled the island in her soft, baby yellow kitchen angrily. She slammed her elbows on the countertop and placed her head in her hands. She used her sock clad foot to pull one of the near bar stools closer to her and she sat down.

She didn’t want him to go. She could remember it so well. Standing in this kitchen when he told her he was enlisting. She begged him not to go. What about their family? They were planning on starting one really soon. She turned in her stool to look out of the kitchen and into the living room. The walls were a light red color, with beige furniture. Arial had decorated it herself, adoring the warmth that the house provided. She couldn’t wait to start a family with Emmett; why did he have to leave?

She pulled her red hair up and above her head and pulled the black tie from around her wrist and held her hair up. The messy bun that confined her hair was loose and some strands fell over her face and covered her soft blue eyes. She looked down at her engagement ring, placed carefully next to her wedding band. Both were white gold, encrusted with diamonds, and glimmered in the light. She smiled sadly at her hand.

Suddenly a burst of light projected onto the diamonds and little rainbow lights flickered over Emmett’s old jersey that she was currently wearing. She looked up with a puzzled expression. Who would be visiting her at this hour? Who would be visiting her at all? Maybe someone was just turning around. She convinced herself of this and went back to spinning her ring on her finger excitedly. When the lights dimmed, before turning off, she stood. She walked to the door to meet the visitor, almost in slow motion. She squinted through the night air and saw three men in military uniforms climb down from an army jeep.

Arial scanned their faces one by one, hoping one was Emmett. One slightly older man with a short, gray moustache and worn, tired eyes refused to meet her gaze. The two younger men were both tall with dark, short hair. One marched to the trunk of the jeep and leaned into it. The other man was looking at her, yes, but it also seemed as if he was looking through her. His emerald eyes penetrated her soul and she felt uneasy. The man from the back came into view again, this time carrying a flag. Arial recognized the well-known colors of blue and red on the stars and stripes. She bit her bottom lip hard, waiting for them to come forward.

The older man started walking first, and the other two followed in a triangle formation behind him. To distract herself, Arial blocked everything else from her mind and just counted their steps. ‘One, two…’ she counted in her head, <>‘three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…’ At step eleven they had joined her on the stoop. “Mrs. Emmett Johnson?” The older man asked. Arial, feeling strong pulls at her heartstrings, nodded. He gestured towards the man holding the flag; he bowed his head to her and held it out. The other young man saluted, as well as the older man who spoke, “I’m so sorry…”