Aaron Hunt knew that going into the forest that morning would be a mistake. At least that’s how he remembered it in hindsight. The day had started like any day. Uneventful, but pleasant.
He never really paid any attention to the mundane parts of his life. The ins and outs of how his day went. His work as a programmer was something he mildly enjoyed, though was more something he did to earn money rather than a passion. Instead, he lived his life as it happened.
He would talk to his wife April. They had a good relationship. He thought he knew her pretty well so somewhere along the line he’d stopped listening so much. Their conversations had turned repetitive. He didn’t always listen to everything she said, but he felt like he got the important stuff.
Perhaps his lack of attention was how he found himself staring stupidly at his wife with her smooth, tan legs straddling a man he didn’t recognize. But then, perhaps nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
April had headed out for her Saturday morning book club as usual. She wouldn’t be back for a few hours and Aaron thought it might be a nice opportunity to spend the morning in the woods outside their house. The forests around South Bellingham were beautiful. Close enough to the bay, but removed enough to feel remote. The family guest house was just a few hundred yards down a dirt path from their driveway. Aaron looked out one of the twin windows that faced the forest and could just barely see the guest house door. It was as good a direction as any.
On his walk, he began to think about how his life had unfolded. His silly dreams to be an artist always sounded so reasonable. He loved to create. Of course, that was before he met April.
Aaron loved April. He may never have graduated from Western if he hadn’t met her. She had driven him through college to get a Software Engineering degree, to get his job coding for a local internet security company. Without her he wouldn’t have succeeded at anything.
“You just need some direction,” she had told him. “Just think of how nice it’ll be to do your art without all the stress about money.”
Aaron hadn’t ever thought about it that way. He just figured he’d balance his life as it came. It was a good thing she had pushed him so hard, even if he hadn’t ever really gotten back into painting. That had been a dumb high school fantasy.
Of course, his family had adored her. Especially his parents, before they died in that car crash last year. he was still getting over that.
But Aaron had everything he ever needed. Steady job, nice car. He had even moved into his parent’s old house, 2-acre property and all. Married for 4 years to a stunning 24-year-old blonde 3 years his junior. Any of his old friends would have killed for a woman like that. 5′ 6″, tan skin, perky breasts, and the rectangular frame of a model that made anything look good. She was perfect.
His thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a yelp coming from the direction of the guest house, about 20 yards away.