“You know that scene in Papillon where Steve McQueen is locked in a pit for five years?” he said once. “I’d be fine with that.”
She’d smiled at what she thought was a joke.
Years later, when the kids had fled to families of their own and they both retired, they’d sold the house and taken a snug cottage on Marquette Island. The closest village was down six miles of dirt road.
“Not a human in sight,” he laughed. “I don’t have to see anyone but you. This is paradise!”
She stared at the empty vastness, saying nothing for now.