I do.

I take thee to be my husband.

There was a tension, and then the bone broke.

It seemed futile, eating to survive, but she did it anyway. She was convinced all it would achieve was a delay in the inevitable.

She would die here. She knew that, though she had come to terms with it, so why did she still cling to life with such a tight grip?

She used the knife, that usually only he was allowed to use, to cut away the flesh and separate the leg from the body.

He always hated when she would take control. But he couldn’t stop her now.

He insisted on carrying the map, despite getting them lost twice. A pang of guilt struck her. She had felt a momentary relief that he was gone.

Their relationship had been balancing on a knife’s edge.

To have and to hold from this day forward.

What had once been an uncontrollable love that raged like wildfire had dwindled down to the weakest of embers.

That’s why they’d come on this trip. A last-ditch attempt to reignite their fire.

He’d been insistent that a weekend hike and camping trip was the right thing. Deep down she knew he hated the outdoors, but she understood why he’d made that choice.

It was her who paid the mortgage, the bills, everything. It was her who had the good job, the generous salary, the fancy job title, while he struggled to find anything outside of minimum wage.

She’d insisted it didn’t matter, that she didn’t mind that dynamic.

It was clear he didn’t feel the same.

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.

Two days into the hike, he’d tripped whilst ambling across a hilltop. A loose rock had shifted underfoot, and he tumbled towards the edge.

Her instincts kicked in, and she grabbed him.

She tried to save him, but her efforts simply resulted in them both going over the precipice.

The fall resulted in a broken leg for her, but it had killed him instantly.

To love and to cherish.

Rather than check for a pulse, she checked her phone.

A low battery and no signal.

She had tried to stave off hunger, hoping that someone would pass by. Yet, after three days, she settled into the belief that no one would come.

The water she had left was nearly empty. Her stomach growled like a wild beast.

“You’ll love this trail,” he’d said, avoiding her offer to book somewhere easier.

Till death do us part.

There was a tension, and then the bone broke.

She remembered his hands shaking as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

I do.

It seemed futile.

Yet still she ate.