July 15, 1916
Jack looked longingly at the picture of Rose. She was smiling that familiar smile that Jack ached to see once more. It looked like she had been laughing; the laugh that Jack yearned to hear. Her lips were curled in happiness, and Jack wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go of her. He missed Rose.
July 15, 1915
"Race you to the water!" Rose took off. Her legs took her faster and faster, and it looked like Rose was flying. Her red, fiery hair whipped around her face, and her porcelain skin gleamed in the hot, burning sun. Jack grinned and let out a whoop, and Rose squealed in delight. Jack followed closely behind her, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his face. He let Rose run ahead of him just so he could see her. Once he got to the beach, he let his feet sink into the warm, silky sand, and Jack watched as Rose pelted into the blue waters. She submerged and Jack smiled once the familiar red hair resurfaced. Jack ran to the beach and he jumped in, allowing the warm waters to engulf him. Jack waded around, enjoying the feeling of the water slipping past him, and he looked at Rose, who was floating on her back, her curly hair like a corona around her face.
"This is the best anniversary ever." Rose smiled at Jack. He grinned. All he wanted to do was make Rose happy; she was easy to please. She was delighted by the smallest of things, and Jack loved that about her. She didn't care what she received. As long as Jack was by her side, she was fine.
"I'm glad you think so, angel."
*****
"I had an amazing time, Jack." Rose smiled at her husband and kissed him sweetly. They were lying on the sand, watching the sun set. The sky was a rainbow of colors, from crimson to indigo to yellow. Jack brought Rose closer to him so their bodies molded together. Her back was to his chest, and he rested his chin at the crook of her neck.
"You're so beautiful," Jack whispered into her neck.
Rose smiled as his warm breath came onto her skin like little icy rain drops hitting a sleeping animal. "Jack…" she whispered, tilting her head up to him, a lightheartedness sparkling in her bright green eyes. Jack looked at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I love you…"
Jack smiled at the memory; by far, that was their best anniversary. Jack was sad he didn't get to spend it with her this time. This was the first anniversary she wouldn't be there.
Jack had never ever felt so lonely. It was as if part of him was missing. Part of his identity was gone. It was feeling like he couldn't draw anymore. Rose was his identity. His life. His love. His wife. Jack looked sadly around the house. Normally, it would've been filled with Rose's sweet voice, or at least the smell of her cooking. Now, there was emptiness. Jack made his way over to their bedroom and he collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in Rose's pillow.
The pillow vaguely smelled of Rose. The familiar scent of vanilla and roses was just there.
July 15, 1915
Rose tilted her head back and cried out, and Jack shuddered, sighing. He looked down at Rose, who was sweaty but nonetheless happy and loved. "That…was…wonderful…" Rose tried to catch her breath, and Jack chuckled.
"I know…the journey to the stars is…amazing…" he choked out. Rose grinned and kissed his forehead, shaking slightly. Jack put his head on her chest, careful not to crush her with his weight. "You're trembling," he noticed, and Rose stopped.
"I…I am…?" Jack nodded, unable to get any words out of his mouth. He gently reached under the bed for their fallen sheet and placed it over Rose's naked body. She smiled.
"I…love…you…"
Rose was always so beautiful, Jack thought, especially after their stars. He loved making her happy. And now, he wouldn't ever get to do that again.