Moving to the secluded area out by the lake four states away from both our fucked up families was the best thing we could've done for ourselves. The toxicity had gotten overwhelming, the family drama nauseating. We knew no one would ever visit, and that's how we liked it. We were happy in our own little world out here. Nothing lasts forever, though. Sure, we'd joked about it aplenty. "You know, I could chop you up and bury you out here and no one would ever find you," I'd jokingly said more than once. She'd just laugh and agree, and everything would be okay. I picked up work pretty easily when we relocated, and we decided she'd stay home and take care of pretty much everything. First, she tried to respond with, "well I could do the same to you." Then, "I guess your boss would wonder where you were, though." Now, I know for most people, "jokes" like this would make one question the relationship, but we were, well, a little different. You know, saw things with a twist. One of the things we noticed when we first met was our shared off-kilter sense of humor.
We kept to ourselves, didn't care to meet any neighbors or make friends, and life went on. At first everything was good, we managed to put a bit in savings, and we'd settled into a nice quiet existence. Then I got careless while moving some equipment, you know, trying to be all macho in front of the younger co-workers and all. Then the baby came along. Ordinarily that'd be fine, but with the mounting out-of-pocket shit, my physical therapy and whatnot, and being out of work for so many weeks well, things just kind of piled up.