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“You reacted like most guys in the military would’ve. That’s what the Navy wanted from you, right? to be willing to kill for your country. You just didn’t do it on the battlefield, that’s all. I still love you, nothing’s going to change that. I’m not leaving you for anything. I don’t even know what I’d do. I’m too old to start over now, besides, who’d want a fat old woman with no money? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, George.”

His hands squeezed the steering wheel. “I love you, Ellie. I don’t think I ever told you that enough, but it’s true. I’m not a real gushy person, you know that. But I don’t want anything else to happen before you know that you are the only reason I lived. You made me feel like I was the best man in the world, like no one could even come close to me. You always gave me a safe place to come, someone I could trust with the ugliest parts of me. I’m sorry I thought this was too much for you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I love you, and I don’t know how else to say it. I never wanted to hurt you, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. I thought it would wreck the image you had of me. I thought it would break your heart to know that I’m a killer, the lowest of the low. I couldn’t bring myself to do that to you.” The words sapped his strength and left him a hollow shell, all skin and bones, but no organs, like a dried out insect.

They passed a green sign that read: Stock Island, three miles, and, Key West, Home of the Sunset, six miles. His stomach was a solid lump of burning embers, and an enormous pressure was at the base of his throat.

“I don’t think of you as a murderer, George. You made a mistake. You acted on emotion. That doesn’t define who you are,”

“Just what I’m capable of, right?” he added.

“We’re all capable of terrible things when our backs are to the wall. You’re no different from the rest of us.”

“I love you, Ellie.”

“I love you too, Georgie.”

Up ahead, George saw a service station on the left side of the road.

“I gotta run inside here for a minute,” George said as he pulled into the parking lot. “I think that flu’s catching up with me.”

“I thought you weren’t stopping anymore,” she said.

“Sorry, but I got to.”

“Why don’t you pick up some medicine while you’re in there?” she said.

“Love you,” he called out as he closed the door to the truck. Inside the small Stock Island bathroom, George knelt down and vomited a vile, bloody mess into the dirty toilet. His large body slumped against the side of the toilet, and his head came to rest on the cold, porcelain bowl stained with the urine of a million strangers. His stomach finally stopped hurting, his nausea finally passed. And as his eyes closed for the final time, his thoughts were of his wife, of the unconditional love she gave him, and the life they’d shared. Peace filled him, and he closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face, despite the surroundings.

In the cab of the truck, Eleanore sat, thinking about what a wonderful man she’d found, how lucky she’d been to spend her whole life with such a person, to share it with someone so perfectly suited for her. There’s not too many like my George, she thought. Strong, handsome, even at his age, and loving, like I’m the only woman for him. He never tells me how fat I am, how old I look, how bad my cooking is. He never complains about anything. When I was a little girl, I never thought I’d be so happy. I was sure I’d end up alone and miserable like my aunt Margerie. She’d always tell me that George was no good and he’d leave me someday and I’d be all alone. She always told me I should never trust a man cause all they do is break your heart. Well, I showed her. I only wish she was still around to see how good it is for us. If she was