I keep Abbie’s shirt pressed tight against my shoulder, trying to clot the bleeding. I slump down into a chair and grit my teeth as Abbie watches me with wide eyes and wrings her hands.

“What are we going to do? We have to get you to a hospital,” the reality of this situation seems to be taking root in her mind and tears I expected a while ago finally well up in her green eyes.

“No hospital. No doctor. I’ll go to jail. That’ll be the end. I need you to listen to me, got it? You’re going to help me through this. We can do this together, but you need to calm down and follow my instructions, okay?” I try to keep my own voice cool and collected, but struggle with every breath that brings searing pain to my shoulder.

“Yes,” she wipes away her tears. “You’re right, what do I do?”

“First thing you can do to help,” I start.

“Yes,” she watches me intently.

“Is go put on another shirt. I can’t think with your beautiful tits in my face,” I try to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

Abbie looks down at her exposed torso like she completely forgot she removed her clothes. “Oh, uh, of course,” she covers her breasts with her arms and rushes across the room, pulling a plaid, button up shirt from my clean clothes. I’ve gotta say, I prefer how it looks on her, clinging to her curves.

“Now, boil some water Abbie. And while you’re over there, take a look through my military duffel bag for my old sewing kit. I need you to grab the smallest needle in there and some thread, okay?”

Abbie nods dutifully and lights the stove, placing a small pot of water on top. I focus on my breathing as she scrounges through my belongings until she finds the old army green sewing kit and plucks the supplies from inside.

“Abbie?”

“Yeah?” She whirls around and stares at me, waiting for instructions.

“Go grab the last of the whiskey, will ya?”

“Sure, just a sec,” she doesn’t question me, she just rummages in the cupboard until she finds the quarter bottle of booze.

“Give it here,” I hold out my good hand and Abbie opens the top and places the bottle in my palm. “Okay, grab a clean cloth and bring the pot over here with the sewing kit,” I gruffly command her and take a long swig of the booze as she does as she’s told.

Abbie brings the stuff over to the table and I finish off the whiskey in one long gulp.

“I’m gonna need your help getting this shirt off,” I plunk the empty bottle of booze onto the table and Abbie nods.

Together we manage to get the bloody shirt free from my body.

“Did it go through?” I try to turn my head, but the pain is too much.

“What do you mean?”

“Take a look at the back of the wound, is there a hole back there too? Did the bullet go through?” I wince as I lean forward in my chair and Abbie peeks at my back.

“It did. You’re bleeding down your back too,” her chin quivers and I hold up my good hand.

“You gotta keep it together. You’re doing amazing right now, just a bit of stitching and it’ll all be taken care of,” I try to soothe her.

“You want me to give you stitches?” She gasps.

“You have to. I need to close this wound up and I can’t stitch myself very well.”

Abbie nods slowly, like she’s trying to understand words in a different language. “Okay,” she finally answers, “tell me how to do this.”

“First, I need you to clean the wound up. Get the cloth dripping wet and clean both sides,” I push my good hand against the wall for support as Abbie prepares the cloth. She places it over the bullet hole and I sharply breathe in over my teeth and shut my eyes. “Keep going,” I encourage her shaky hands. “You gotta clean both sides.”

She listens to my instructions well, gently flushing out the hole in my shoulder with the hot water.

“Now what?” I open my eyes and see her fear has been replaced by determination. She juts her jaw out and looks at me.

“Do you know how to sew?” I ask, hopeful.

“Sort of, it’s been a while,” she answers sheepishly.

“Great, it’s like riding a bike, you never forget. So, thread the needle, got it?” I watch as she laces the thread through the eye. “Perfect, now I need you to hold the skin together as close as possible and stitch it up, make a knot after every stitch, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” she answers, but her hand hovers in the air, shaking. Her eyebrows knit together and she freezes to the spot.

“Abbie,” I interrupt her thoughts, “you already saved my life today, I know you can do this too. You can do anything,” I encourage her softly.

Abbie takes a deep breath and her breasts push up and out. She leans over me and I can feel the needle press through my flesh, but it doesn’t hurt. “Good girl, you got this. You’re a badass, you know that?” I smile.

“I’m really not,” she protests, but keeps her fingers busy as she ties a knot then slides the needle back into my skin for another stitch.

“Well, you took care of that piece of shit like a badass, that’s for sure. I’m proud of you,” I tell her honestly.

Abbie ties another knot and makes another stitch, “What are we going to do about him?”

“What do you mean?” I wince as I feel her pull the thread tight and the wound closes up. Abbie keeps sewing, not answering me.

“I mean, someone is going to find him. They’re going to know he was killed when they find this place. They’re going to find out I murdered him,” her voice creaks and tears stream down her face.

“Hey, shhh, come here,” I pull her in with my good arm and kiss her on the forehead. “Listen, you can still go back to Whitehorse. I mean, if the bears don’t eat him first and someone really does find him down there, they’ll think it was me, not you. If they ever find me, I’ll say it was me, okay?” I soothe her.

“No!” She yells and jumps back.

“What? What are you talking about?” I search her face for an answer, but her tears leave me no clues.

“I don’t want to go, Cole. I don’t want to go back to Whitehorse, or the US or anywhere that isn’t right here with you. And not because of Cecil. Not because I lost my Mom, or any of that. I don’t want to go because I’d be walking away from the only man I’ve ever loved. I can’t. Please don’t make me go,” she sobs into her hands, her body shaking.

I’ve been hoping she would give me some kind of sign that she didn’t want to go. For days now, every time I’ve brought it up, I’ve been holding my breath, hoping she would tell me she wanted to stay. However, each time, she always agreed with me that it was time to leave.

“Come here,” I demand, holding out my hand to her.

Abbie wipes her sleeve over her face and steps back into my arm looking down at me hopefully.

“You don’t have to go anywhere, Abbie. You think I want to watch you leave? You’re mine, remember, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life remembering the short time I had with the perfect woman. I want to live with her, fill her belly with babies, live each day with her until we’re old and wrinkled up. I never wanted you to go, I just didn’t want to make you stay.” My voice is thick and full of emotion as my heart beats rapid fire in my chest.

“Really?” She smiles down at me and I’m pretty sure my heart skipped a beat.

“Really,” I reassure her. “Don’t go. Let’s move together. I’ll build us a better house, one with a loft and a bath house. One with skylights and enough room for children. Come with me,” I feel like I’m proposing. I guess I am. I might not be down on one knee, and I might not have a ring, but I’m asking this amazing woman to spend the rest of her days with me.

“I will.” She answers and I laugh as pure joy overtakes me.

I pull her into me, drawing her into my mouth and kiss her deep. When Abbie stands up, she looks as awestruck as I feel.

“Just one thing, though,” I interrupt the moment.

“What’s that?” She looks down at me dreamily.

“I still need you to sew up the front of this wound,” I jerk my head toward my bad shoulder and laugh again as Abbie’s eyes grow two sizes bigger.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” She scurries over to the other side of me and grabs the needle dangling down my back, tying off that wound.

“Don’t be. You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Abbie. You never have a single thing to be sorry for.”

As she smiles down at me, I feel a weight I didn’t realize I was dragging around lift from my soul. I know that things won’t always be perfect, but this is about as close as it gets with the perfect woman by my side, life is pretty sweet.