She came at him and he stood his ground, despite never feeling steady on his feet with her around.

"Well, I, uh," he muttered, garbled, touching at the still angry line, that jagged smile, cutting across his throat. "It ain't been quick, Maggie."

He kept saying her damn name. He couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Hm," he huffed, his weight shifting. "I've been here going on three weeks now."

He'd taken the stitches out himself, squinting into his bathroom mirror and snipping at them with a pair of nail scissors.