I slept in the bed with you again that night, and without telling you, I decided that I would probably continue sleeping there. It was too warm and your touch was too comforting for me to go back to the other bedroom.

When we woke up in the morning, we both had a headache from the wine. You fumbled through the medicine cabinet, looking for some acetaminophen while I pulled some bread from the fridge and put some water on the stove to boil.

I used to get headaches when I was little and my grandma would always make me a cup of tea. I searched through the pantry, knowing I'd seen tea bags at one point and I finally found a box of black tea. It wasn't herbal tea like my grandma used to make, but I thought I'd try it anyway. Then I found some ginger and some honey to add to the tea.

When you came into the kitchen with the medicine, you stopped directly in front of me, lifted my chin so my face was tilted to yours, and you kissed my forehead. Then you poured two cups of water and we took the pills, hoping to recover quickly.

For the next few days, we spent time side by side, reading, cooking, fishing, carrying wood in for the fireplace. We didn't talk about the kisses that we had shared and we didn't kiss again. But I was beginning to feel very content with you, forgetting that I ever wanted to leave. 

But one morning, about a week after we kissed, I started making tea again and then I thought I'd try to remember my grandma's apple spice cake recipe so we could have it for breakfast. You had some fresh apples stored in the fridge and some dried apples as well. I opted for the fresh apples, knowing that, although they could last a long time in the fridge, they would spoil more quickly than dried apples.

I mixed up the ingredients and I put the batter into the bread pan. As it baked, I started thinking about my grandma and I became inexplicably overwhelmed with sadness, missing her more than I had in a very long time.

I started sniffling, trying to hold back the tears while I prepared breakfast, but you heard me.

"River? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I mean, I just miss my grandma. I guess making her apple spice cake reminds me of her."

You came to me and enveloped me in your arms, stroking my hair. Every time you touched me, I became more and more convinced that you would never hurt me and that, although your obsession led you to kidnap me, I was grateful for the undying love you seemed to possess for me.

"Zayn?" I said quietly into your chest.

"Yes, love."

"I'm homesick."

I felt you stiffen a bit after I said that.

"I told you, we have no way out until my friend comes back with the plane."

"I know," I sighed. "But I'm homesick all the same."

"Are you still mad at me?" I pulled back and looked at you curiously, and you continued, "You know, for bringing you out here."

I furrowed my eyebrows and pondered the question for a few minutes. "I honestly don't know, Zayn."

Then I pulled away and we sat down and ate breakfast in silence.

Your question weighed heavily on me all morning. When I went to take a shower, I discovered that my period had started. And I didn't remember seeing any feminine supplies in the cupboards. I cracked open the bathroom door and called out to you.

"Zayn?"

You appeared in front of the door.

"Can you get me my purse?" I knew I had at least one tampon in there. I didn't know what I was going to do after that.

You left and quickly came back and handed me my purse. "Do you need something?" You asked.

"Um, yeah," I said, figuring it wouldn't hurt to tell you the truth. "I started my period and I, uh, have something in my purse."

"Oh," you said awkwardly, but it was kind of cute. "There are supplies in the closet in there, you know. Let me show you."

I was still dressed so I let you in and you showed me an enormous box that was perched on the highest shelf of the closet. The closet was dim, so I'd never noticed it up there. You pulled it down and I smiled gratefully. You exited the bathroom very fast and I dug inside the box.

You were thorough, that's for sure. There were all different sizes and brands of supplies. I laughed lightly to myself, thinking of you buying all this stuff and probably turning beet red at the checkout counter.

I finished my shower and felt quite a bit better, but the cramps were starting so I took a bottle of Advil out of the medicine cabinet. I brought it to the kitchen and got some water. You stared at me as if I were a ghost.

"Do you have cramps?" You asked.

I laughed at your bluntness. "Yes. And this probably explains why I was so emotional earlier. Although I really do miss my family."

"I know," you said.

I napped later in the day because the first day of my cycle always wore me out.

When I woke up, I discovered that you had made some soup for dinner with some canned beef stock and some beef you had in the freezer. You added some dried vegetables, as well as a few potatoes that were keeping well in the fridge.

Then I smelled chocolate and I dared to ask excitedly, "Brownies?"

"Yeah," you replied, a tinge of red already creeping onto your face. "I've always heard that girls like chocolate, especially....you know. And the soup is good for iron."

I laughed out loud and you looked a little hurt at first. But in reality, I was laughing at how adorable you were, thinking of every last little detail that I would need in this situation.

I walked to you and grabbed both of your hands. "You are very sweet, Zayn. Thank you for doing all of this."

You relaxed and said, "You're welcome."

After dinner, you proposed reading some more poetry together, but I wanted to read more of your journal. So we sat next to each other on the loveseat. You had grabbed some sci-fi novel out of the book closet and I began reading your journal from the beginning of this year.

It was strange to read about the events of my life through your eyes. You weren't there for everything, but you seemed to be present for the most notable things that I had been through. It was my senior year, so you watched me compete in the state swimming finals – our team finally took the championship after pushing ourselves so hard for years. You even somehow caught glimpses of my senior pictures, although I have no idea how.

February 26, 2014

I saw you at your swim meet today. I was glad of the large crowd so you wouldn't necessarily pick me out of the crowd, but I wanted to be there for you. You've worked so hard and you're really a very good swimmer. My heart was breaking for you when your team lost and had to forgo the state finals. I wanted to rush to your side and hold you, telling you it was okay. I can understand your disappointment, this being your last year in school. But I have no doubt, River, that you will succeed in everything you do.

You seem to have a strong bond with you swim coach. I wonder how you came to be so close.

When I first decided to find you, I didn't want anything from you and I never, ever thought of hurting you. I just wanted to see you because you did something to my spirit. You awakened me somehow. When I looked at your golden hair, I felt alive. When something made you smile, I felt warmth in my heart, something I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Now I feel as if I can't even imagine my life without you. If you refuse me, my life will be worth nothing. I pray that I can find some way to win you over.

Even though your words seemed more obsessive than when I first began reading, I was no longer shocked by your journal entries. I was touched that you cared so much for me. I remember that final swim meet – it meant a lot to me and Nolan was there, but my mom had to work, which I resented.

I continued reading through to spring and then I came to my 18th birthday.

April 19, 2014

Happy Birthday, my sweet, darling River.

I sent you 18 roses today, hoping you will somehow understand that I love you, although you still don't know me.

You still don't know I exist, but I know you exist. With every beat of my heart, I feel you. With every breath, I smell your perfume. Every waking moment, I see you in every face around me. I need you, River. I can't wait much longer.

"Zayn!" I exclaimed, laughing, and I startled you because you jumped a little. "Thank you!" I said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. 

"For what?" You chuckled.

I sat back and answered, "For the roses. Eighteen roses on my 18th birthday! No one else made much of a fuss over my birthday, but you sent me roses. That was very sweet."

"You're welcome, love," you said, grinning. You must have noticed the change in my countenance, though, because I remembered thinking that maybe my dad had sent them to me. "What's the matter?"

"I actually thought at first that my dad had sent them. But I called him and...." My throat constricted and hot tears pooled in the corner of my eyes. It must have been those stupid period hormones again because I thought I was way over my dad leaving.

You set your book down and pulled me close to you. "What happened to your dad?"

I sniffled, trying hard to hold back the tears. "He left us when I was eight," I choked. "Bastard!"

"Oh," you whispered sympathetically. "I'm sorry, River."

"Then my mom pretty much had a nervous breakdown that lasted for several years. She was never there for me. It was my grandma who was always, always there for me. Until she died."

You pulled me tighter and I started to sob into your shirt. Maybe there were some things I hadn't dealt with in therapy, some hurt I hadn't let go of yet. Or maybe I was just homesick and hormonal.

"When did your grandma die?"

"The summer before I came to England. My mom was still in the mental hospital, so I had absolutely no one. Nolan was super busy. And I got my period that summer. Sorry if that embarrasses you, but it's kind of a big deal for girls, you know. And I didn't even know what to do. I had to ask my uncle to go to the store for me."

You remained silent while I cried some more.

"When you wrote about seeing me in England, you were wrong, Zayn. You said it looked like we were a happy family, like my mom and I were really close. The vacation was very good, but I held on to a lot of my bitterness towards my mom simply because she wasn't there for me."

Then I sat up and looked at you. "You thought you knew me, but you didn't really. You had no idea what my life was like." My words sounded accusatory, but I didn't mean for them to come out that way.

"Your life was tragic, but my life hasn't been perfect either. You fell in love with a different person, Zayn. You didn't fall in love with me."

You reached up and slid your hand along my face, pushing back some of my hair that had been stuck to my cheek from the wetness of my tears. "I'm in love with you now. That's all that matters."

"You don't even know the real me."

"I know enough."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that there are three guns in the closet and you haven't killed me yet. And the fact that you're still here – willingly – and you're giving me the chance to be your friend, even though I don't deserve it. I understand you more than you think."

I smiled a little and leaned back into your chest.

"I'm sorry your dad left you. That must have hurt terribly," you said, weaving your fingers into my hair.

"Yeah. It's not as bad as what you went through, but it hurt."

"We don't have to compare, you know. Hopefully we can learn from each other, and maybe we can learn from our parents' mistakes."

I nodded, my hair clinging to your shirt as I moved my head.

"I hope I'm a good father," you said.

I felt sure you would be.

"I read about the swim meet that you attended, too. Thanks for being there, even if I didn't know it."

"Sure."

"I was disappointed that we lost, but I was pissed at my mom for not making more of an effort to come. She missed so much of my life that I figured she owed it to me to be there for some important events."

You didn't respond. You just kept fiddling with my hair. I could hear your heart beating and it was so calm and reassuring that I thought I never wanted to move away from that spot.

"Maybe that's why you thought I was unhappy," I said. "Because I guess I was. All I ever really had was my brother and swimming. I mean, I had my friends, too. Like Kassie. Gosh, I miss her! She probably thinks I'm dead, you know, along with everyone else."

After a long while, you said, "I'm sorry that I took you away from your brother. I'm sure your family hates me."

"I'm sure they do," I said. "But I don't."

May 17, 2014

You went to the prom tonight. You looked exquisite in your flowing purple dress. You looked like a goddess in that off-the-shoulder style. I have to admit to myself that I want you. I want you in every way. I confess that I've imagined us together, bodies entwined in passion. I want you like I've never wanted anything or anyone else in my life. I don't know if you've ever been with anyone else. I hope your prom date is upstanding and protects your honor, as he is probably driving you home as I write this. I know your heart is pure. I assume your body is pure, as is mine. I'm saving it for you, River.

My face, I'm sure, was the brightest shade of red ever and my breathing was heavy and labored as I finished the entry.

You noticed and asked if I was all right.

I wasn't sure. You were correct in assuming I never really had a boyfriend, and I was still a virgin. No one had ever dared to speak the words you wrote in your journal, and no such words had ever been directed to me. I was overwhelmed with a combination of embarrassment and anger and confusion...and some level of desire. The thought of you and me together flashed through my mind and I closed my eyes, desperately trying to chase it away. This was all so wrong – you taking me against my will, watching me for all of those years, fantasizing about me in the most intimate way.

I was so confused by the onslaught of several different emotions that I simply excused myself and went to bed. I decided to go back to my own little bedroom and I got ready for bed like a zombie. I laid there for many hours, pondering on what had happened to my life in just a few short weeks.

If I had let my imagination take me away, I surely would have arrived at the same thoughts as you – that we would some day make love if I were to fall in love with you the way you wanted me to. But to have it so bluntly written about me, before I even knew you existed, felt like such a violation.

However, amidst the feelings of discomfort, a new feeling was building, and had been building for the past several days. It was a yearning for you that I had never felt for another man, and it made me even more uncomfortable to acknowledge it.

I eventually drifted away into a fitful, dream-laden sleep. I woke in the morning, startled by you sitting in the chair next to my bed. I sat up warily.

You smiled sheepishly. "I see you read the entry I wrote on your prom night."

I nodded.

"Do you know now how much I love you?"

I nodded again, not sure where you were going with this.

"And now you must realize that we were destined to be together."

My mouth fell open in shock that you would jump to such a conclusion just because I read your journal entry.

You moved silently to sit across from me on the bed. I watched as your hand traveled along my blanketed thigh, up my arm and finally to my face. You lifted your other hand and with both of them, you cradled my face tenderly, sweeping your thumbs gently across my cheeks.

Then you pulled me forcefully to yourself and kissed me hard. I was unprepared for your actions and I struggled, but not with my whole strength. As much as I didn't like the idea of being forced into anything, I couldn't deny that your kiss was extremely pleasurable. Eventually I stopped squirming and I let you kiss me even deeper. I reveled in the feel of your lips, the taste of your tongue, the smell of your body and your hair.

As the kiss intensified, you pushed me back to lie down and I complied. But when you started to pull the blankets off of me, I realized your intentions and I froze, knowing I was nowhere near ready for this. I tried to push you off of me, but you overpowered me, pulling at the waistband of my pants, forcefully tearing them from my body. I pushed harder against you and started pounding you with my fists, yelling, "No, Zayn! I don't want to do this!"

You continued with your attack and I had the sickening realization that I was now seeing your true nature. My mind frantically focused on getting away from you and getting to a gun or some other weapon that I could use to defend myself. Meanwhile, I struggled and screamed, pounding against you with all my strength.

You grabbed my wrists tightly and managed to stop my assault on you.

"River," you said quietly.

I kept struggling hard against you until I woke up and realized that I was still fully clothed.

"You were having a nightmare," you said gently. "Are you okay?"

My face was wet from tears and sweat and I was still trembling. I forced myself to calm down and come back to reality. You weren't trying to hurt me, it was just a stupid dream. But I still felt wary of you.

"I'm okay," I finally said. "I'll be fine, just let me go back to sleep."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" You offered, and I knew that your heart was sincere.

"No, thank you," I replied. "I'll be all right. Really." I laid back down and pulled the blankets tightly around myself and you left without another word.

What is going on? I wondered while drifting back into a chaotic sleep.

I didn't wake up again until the sun was high in the sky. It actually came through my little window at just the right angle to shine right on my face. It felt good and warm on my skin and I smiled at it before I even opened my eyes.

But then my brain started working and I remembered everything that had happened in the past few hours. What was I going to do? Every time I was beginning to trust you, something happened which made me doubt that you were actually trustworthy. To be fair, it wasn't your doing this time – you weren't intentionally keeping anything from me, but I still felt violated to know you thought of me in a sexual way. I wasn't naive; I knew that's what happened when people fell in love. But you made me the object of your sexual desire without giving me any say in the situation.

Oh, what on earth was I doing, thinking this was fun in some twisted way – being stranded in a cabin with someone I hardly knew? I really had to focus on getting away and getting away soon. I wondered if I could travel the 25 miles to Churchill on foot, if I prepared myself well enough. Could I find shelter in the woods and stay warm if it took more than a day?

I got up and got dressed quickly, and then I went to the book closet, scouring the titles for some kind of survival guide. You had written in your journal about learning some wilderness survival lessons from the caretaker at the campground in Winnipeg. It wouldn't surprise me if you had some books on the subject as well.

I laughed when my eyes grazed the title, Wilderness Survival for Dummies. I took it off the shelf, along with a few other nature books, to see what I could glean from them. I sat down in front of the fire with the books, not even trying to hide what I was doing. You offered me a cup of tea and I gratefully accepted without any other communication. My eyes simply devoured the book. I read about the amount of clothing I would need to stay warm, how much water and food I would need for the journey. Then it occurred to me that I had no idea in which direction I would have to travel to reach Churchill. I wondered if I could figure it out by watching the path of the sun. If I could figure out which way was north....no, that was no good, because I still didn't know where I was in relation to Churchill.

I decided to look through all of the clothing and other supplies while I tried to figure out if there were any other clues that could tell me where Churchill was. I dug through the wardrobes, pulling out wool socks and thermal underwear. I would have to protect all of my exposed skin, so I searched for a ski mask, but I couldn't find one. I thought I could cover my face with a scarf wrapped around my head, leaving space for my eyes.

I busied myself with preparations all morning, knowing you were watching me. It was late afternoon when you finally spoke.

"You know, you should really eat something. You need your strength if you're going to walk to Churchill."

"So, you're not going to try to stop me?" I asked, surprised that you seemed so calm.

"I'm not going to keep you here by force, if that's what you mean. I promised I would never hurt you, and I intend to keep that promise."

I studied you carefully for several moments and I knew you were telling me the truth. You would never hurt me.

Then you continued, "You made a promise, too, you know."

"What's that?" I asked, while searching for a thermos to fill with water.

"You said you'd stay if I let you read my journal."

"Yeah, well, that was before I knew you wanted to have sex with me."

"Why does that bother you?" You asked.

"Because, Zayn! You violated me in your mind! You planned something for me, for my life, and I wasn't even a willing participant!"

"You know that I love you," you reasoned.

"I know, Zayn, it's just...this is all wrong. You taking me, keeping me here, me falling in love with you..."

And then I stopped, my eyes widening in horror as I realized what I had just said.

"Y...you...you're in love with me?"

"I...I don't know! I don't know what I'm feeling! It's only been a few weeks and I have no idea what I'm doing and none of this should be happening and there is no way in hell I should be falling in love with my kidnapper!"

Damn, I said it again! I didn't know what was happening to me. I stormed off to my little bedroom upstairs so I could be alone with my thoughts. I still didn't quite know how I was going to get out of here, but you were right. I did make a promise. But should I really be held to a promise when you hadn't been very trustworthy?

I hated this! I hated feeling like I had to make some major decision for my life right here and now. I couldn't tell you again that I was falling in love with you. That was simply stupid and I vowed not to ever say it again. You were delicate and vulnerable and I couldn't hurt you, no matter what you'd done to me.

It was early evening, but I fell asleep in my little bed, thinking about everything.

I woke up to your deep voice asking me if I wanted to go fishing. I grumbled a yes to you and then I threw off my blankets so I could get dressed. I was so confused, so very confused. I knew the fresh, cold air would help me to clear my brain, and we did need more fish.

We bundled up and headed out the door, met with biting wind. We half walked, half jogged to the river. It only took us about ten minutes and you assured me that we wouldn't be staying long because of the severe cold. You gave me the net and you got your rod ready. I carefully crept as close as I could to the edge of the river without falling in. I saw fish swimming by and wondered how on earth they could survive in such cold water. I set my net into the water but the swift current caught me off-guard and I slipped. You reached out in a flash to grab my arm, but my forward motion knocked you off balance on the slippery bank and you splashed, head-first, into the dangerously cold, rushing water.

"Zayn!" I shrieked as I watched you being carried away by the strong current. I frantically looked around the river bank for anything, ANYTHING I could use to fish you out of the water, but there were no trees or fallen logs nearby; it was just a flat, white expanse of snow and ice and the only trees were at least a hundred yards away. I couldn't risk running that far through the snow – you would be hundreds of yards downstream by the time I made it back.

I raced along the shore while your struggled against the current. I could hear you grunting and gasping as the water assaulted you with its cold fury. I kept praying that I would see a stray log or a long branch that I could reach out to you, but there was nothing longer than my net, and the net wasn't nearly long enough to reach you. I kept one eye on you and somehow managed to watch where I was going enough to not slip or trip on anything in my way. I glanced up the river and noticed a sharp bend and I knew then that it was my only chance to save you. I summoned all the strength I ever had and sprinted through the snow and cut across the little piece of land jutting out into the river so I could try to reach you when you came around the corner.

How long had you been in the water? My mind was frantically calculating as I ran – two minutes, maybe three? You'd be fine if I could get you out and back to the cabin fast. When I reached the shore around the bend in the river, I looked back and saw you coming. You were still too far out for me to reach you with the net, so I silently prayed for the strength to do what I had to do next.

I took a step into the water and it felt like razors slicing through my skin. I screamed in pain and steadied myself against the current. I forced myself to push forward three, four, five steps, and then I leaned as far as I could, extending the net to you as you were just about to rush past me. You grabbed hold of the net, but I was yanked forward into the water by the jolt. By some miracle, I regained my footing and pulled you toward me as hard as I could. My entire body was on fire from the pain of the ice cold water, but I ignored it as I helped you stand up and both of us struggled to shore, clinging fiercely to one another's hands.

We stepped onto the bank and you collapsed.

"No, Zayn, No! Don't lie down! Get up! We have to run!" I screamed, yanking on your arm. You complied but you could barely move since you were so cold. I was cold, too, but your body was already preserving your organs by sending warm blood to your core instead of out to your limbs. It had happened to me the day I tried running from you, but it happened to you much faster because the water depleted your warmth much more rapidly.

I could tell that you were starting to get delirious. You were beginning to not really care whether we made it back to the cabin. But I yanked your arm hard and began running as fast as my legs would move. I could feel that the soaked fabric of my clothing was already beginning to freeze and I knew yours was, too. It was far too cold to be out in temperatures like this, even if we weren't soaking wet.

"Come on, Zayn! We can do it! It's not too far now," I kept calling to you as I dragged you along behind me. I don't know how either one of us made it, but we got to within about 200 yards of the cabin and then you collapsed again. I wanted to pick you up and carry you inside, the way you did when I was too cold to walk anymore. But I was becoming lethargic from the cold and I was in so much pain, I could hardly see straight. I knelt down next to you, wrapped one of your arms over my shoulder, and I pushed us back up to a standing position. I forced you to walk with me, telling you, "You brought me out here, Zayn, and now you are NOT leaving me alone! We're gonna make it, Zayn. Only a few more steps." 

When we finally stepped through the door of the cabin, I breathed out a huge sigh of relief and I dragged you to the recliner. I raced upstairs – well, as fast as my freezing limbs would allow me to move – and I grabbed as many blankets as I could. I ran back downstairs and laid them out in front of the fire. I threw three logs onto the fire and poked the embers a bit to get it nice and hot.

Then I yanked you back up to a standing position. Your eyes were glassy and your skin was a ghostly white. I gulped at your appearance; I couldn't feel my fingers enough to check your pulse, but your breathing was shallow. I began tearing off all your clothing; I was much less gentle than you had been with me. I took off everything, including your boxers, and neither one of us cared. I tried not to react as I saw the appearance of your fingers and toes - they were whitish-yellow and rigid. I laid a blanket on the recliner and wrapped you in it, and then I placed another blanket over you.

I ran to the kitchen to turn the teapot on to boil. Then I heard you mumble, "You, too." And it was only then that I realized how painfully cold I was. I stripped down in front of the fire, my frozen fingers barely complying with my brain as I tried to untie my boots and unbutton my pants. I stripped naked and grabbed a warm blanket to wrap around me. I took it with me to the kitchen so I could check on the water. I pulled out tea bags and some bouillion cubes and placed them in mugs so that we would have hot tea and broth to drink as we warmed up.

As I waited for the water to boil, I plopped myself directly in front of the fire and let the warmth encompass me. I remembered something I had read just yesterday in the wilderness survival book - it said that the victim needs not only warmth but calories.

I got up and pulled some sugar out of the pantry and I looked for anything else that I could dissolve into the liquid of your tea or broth. There were some packets of dry soup mix, so I pulled them out and dumped some into each mug to mix with the broth. I heard the whistle of the tea kettle, so I hurriedly prepared the tea, with lots of sugar, and the soup. It felt like I was going in slow motion as I worked because I was so worried that you might not make it. I knew CPR, but I hoped to God that I wouldn't have to use it.

I brought the soup and tea to the coffee table. You didn't look good. I was warming up more quickly than I expected, so I needed to help you to get warm as well. I lifted the cup of broth to your lips but you hardly moved them.

"Zayn, you have to drink some," I coaxed you.

You opened your mouth a little bit and I literally poured a bit of broth into your mouth. You swallowed it and I let out a relieved sigh. I kept giving you sips of broth and tea, and I took sips in between. My body was close to the fire as I fed you, so I warmed up fast in comparison to you.

It dawned on me that the best way to warm you up would be to share our body heat. I went back upstairs and came down with a few more blankets and some pillows. I warmed them in front of the fire and then I spread them onto the cold, wooden floor. I pulled you up out of the chair by your hands and you barely moved. I helped you to lie down on the blankets, closest to the fire. Then I covered us both with several more blankets.

I rolled your body towards mine and pressed myself hard against you;  you still felt so cold. I wrapped my legs around yours and I rubbed my hands rapidly over your the skin of your back. I ran my hands all over your skin for a long, long time, until I was satisfied that you were finally warming up. I could tell you were exhausted. I kept my body wrapped tightly around you and we both drifted off to sleep in front of the roaring fire.

It was late afternoon when I woke up, almost too warm from sleeping in front of the fire. I noticed your absence immediately and I sat up and looked around the room. You were dressed warmly, busying yourself in the kitchen. When you saw me awake, you came over with a cup of water and you told me to drink.

"Are you okay?" I asked, incredulous that you were up and moving about. I was still exhausted.

"Tired, but I think I'll be all right."

"I was so scared," I admitted. "I was so scared; I didn't want you to die."

You sat down on the floor next to me and stretched your feet toward the fire. You slipped your hands into mine and said, "Thank you for saving my life."

"Of course, Zayn. I couldn't let you die."

"That's just it. You could have let me die," you said. Then you added quietly, "Maybe you should have."

"No! I would never do that!"

"Why not?" You asked.

"Because you don't deserve to die."

"Sometimes I think I do."

"Well, stop thinking that, all right?"

You just sighed. "I've fucked everything up, haven't I?"

I laughed in surprise when you swore. "You've made some bad choices, but it's never too late to start again."

You looked at me with such profound sadness in your eyes. "But it's too late to start over with you. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." With that, you broke into tears and you wept bitterly.

I hated to see you that way; it almost broke my heart. I pulled you close to my chest, when I suddenly realized I was still bare underneath the blanket. I held you tight against my shoulder while you cried.

"Shhh," I soothed, remembering the broken little boy I'd seen days earlier. Your life was a mess and I knew that you felt terrible for your actions. But I wanted to tell you that it wasn't too late to make everything right. It wasn't too late to start over, and I wanted to help you.

I wanted to love you.

That night, I resumed sleeping next to you, especially to share body heat since it was so bitter cold outside, but also because I couldn't stand being away from you.

After we were tucked into bed with warm thermal underwear covering our bodies, you asked, "So are you still going to try to walk to Churchill?"

"No, Zayn," I answered. "I'm not going anywhere."

As we held each other and drifted slowly away from consciousness, I whispered into your sleepy ear, "I forgive you."