A man had two women in his life. One of them was his beloved girlfriend, the other a longtime family friend. He cared and cherished them both. They each held a special place in his heart. However, his adoration wasn't reciprocated completely by one of them. It would be too late before he realized his mistake.
Lieutenant Parker O'Mally drowned during an attack against his ship. When his bloated corpse was recovered from the wreck, it was sent home. His grieving mother was there at the airport to receive him, distraught to the very core. Everyone all over the nation saw the arrival, and America wept with Mrs. O'Mally as she draped herself over Parker's coffin. What the cameras and flashing photography didn't catch was Parker himself, standing only feet away from the scene. An apparition, he sobbed beside his mother and made fruitless attempts to embrace her. Seeing his mother cry deeply wounded the fallen lieutenant. But nothing would hurt more than his funeral.
Everyone who knew Parker was there. The people filed into the pews before the service began. His mother, father, and brothers sat in the front row. Beside his mother sat the family friend. He smiled bitterly as she consoled his mother with soothing words. A newfound appreciation was found for his friend. Parker knew his mother was in good hands. Although, those hands were not the ones he had hoped for.
Where was his beloved? The lieutenant searched every pair of sad eyes in hopes of finding hers. Parker never found them, the azure eyes he had come to love. They were absent among the glistening tears of mourners. He grew angry. What was more important than his funeral? A glance at someone's phone gave him all the answers.
One of her friends was watching Snapchat during the service. Parker looked on. The anger rose steadily with each video. His beloved had been rather unfaithful to him, abusing his absence for her own pleasure. He was nearly brought to tears as he saw her grotesquely frenching a stranger at the club. His heart shattered while he loomed by the altar beside his coffin. How could she do this to him, after all the years they spent together?
At the wake, people gathered to celebrate the life he lived. In the eyes of the public, he was a hero for the sake of freedom. Parker, however, didn't see himself that way. His leg had gotten caught by a beam. He drowned in the freezing waters because no one stopped to help him. His surviving shipmates ran passed him and didn't think twice. He was no hero. He was merely a wounded puppy, abandoned by those closest to him. Yet those same people had the audacity to be at his home, going on about how brave he supposedly was on that fatal day.
Through these stories he would be remembered, despite how little of the truth they actually told. But what could the dead man do about how people established his legacy? There was absolutely nothing he could do. The falsehoods would spread, and perhaps he'd get a posthumous Medal of Honor off a legacy he didn't really leave. Maybe this fake legacy was supposed to make up for leaving him behind? Whatever the case may be, it sickened him nonetheless. He knew those men would be guilty for the rest of their lives; they surely knew it too.
Parker O'Mally realized that in the end, he got royally screwed. He fell in love with the wrong woman. He trusted the wrong friends. It cost him his life. He would spend an eternity in limbo and self loathing.