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The late summer heat didn’t really bother her, but the smell that came from the empty, week-old pizza boxes as they baked in an unventilated corner of the room did, among other things. Leaning against one wall was the case containing his 30-06, one of his pride and joys. He had never left it out like that when they were still together: empty beer cans and crumpled bags all in orbit on the floor around the trash can after so many missed shots. As she paced through the place, she saw the rest of his sizeable collection of other guns strewn about his room along with his tree-cutting equipment.

Who even needs that many guns? she finally wondered after two years of never really thinking about it. She made up her mind to talk to him about it when he got home, but then she wondered if a lecture would even get through to him. Or if she would even be able to get a word in at all. He was going to want to talk about the new girl when he got home. About how he had never really paid attention to her, but now that he was single again he could really see himself with her instead. The break-up had not been the cleanest of splits, but it was amiable. He had told her she could stay until she found a place, but then he forgot about any and all tact.

Fuck it. She went back to her room and dug a backpack out from under the bed. She began filling it with the essentials; it was all she could carry right now. She packed the bag until it was almost impossible to close and then left through the front door. It didn’t matter where she went just as long as she got out of that place.

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It had been two years since she decided to leave and four years after she had first decided to shack up with that redneck. Four years since she had changed her diet to venison, pizza, and beer; two years since she gave that up. Four years since she had decided to spend her days helping to chop and carry wood; two years since she had moved on to better pursuits. Now she was back home living with her dad in Maine, working and going to school. A lot had changed in two years.

She stood next to Thomas looking out over the dark green woodlands of New Hampshire. She had known him for a little bit more than six months by now, but she knew he was different; better. She stared off at the horizon, enjoying the view.

“Hey Kels?”

“Yeah?” She turned and saw he was down on one knee, holding a ring.