Holding my breath, I got low, keeping my eyes on the bear. Like this, I crawled back to where Jackson was waiting, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Why you crawling like that?” he asked, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

I tried to calm myself, to act natural. “I thought I saw a centipede, but it ran away.”

He stubbed the cigarette into the dirt. “You’re weird as shit. You know that?”

I smiled up at him, trying to revive whatever connection we’d had before the deer incident. I knew telling him about the bear would make him happy, but I also knew he’d kill it. I was certain. And so I said nothing the rest of the way back to his house, matching his pace and turning back every so often to make sure we weren’t being pursued.

“You all right?” Jackson said, once we were back at his house. “You seem frazzled.”

I was breathing heavy, my hands on my knees. I looked up at him and nodded, trying to hold my smile. “I’m just out of shape,” I said. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not killing that deer.”

“I should have,” he said, looking back to the woods. “I made a mistake.”

“I don’t think so. I think what you did was kind.”

“Wasn’t nothing about kindness. I just don’t do so good with people who cry. Makes me feel weird.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

I stood up straight and looked at him. He’d put the gun back in his truck, and the way he looked, suddenly defenseless, seemed sweet. Around us, the woods breathed. Despite what had happened, it seemed like a romantic moment. With the ex, our encounters were limited to restaurants and conversations, bedrooms and television shows. The most daring thing we’d ever done was have sex on his kitchen table, an awkward, brief exchange that ended with a constellation of crumbs embedded in my butt cheeks. Never had we stood together in the woods after a hike. Never had we stood amid the threat of a wild animal. Never, come to think of it, had we done anything outdoors together.

Filled with the moment, I made my way to Jackson and kissed him. At first, he grabbed me, holding tight onto my back. But he did not open his mouth, and soon he put a hand on my hip and gently pushed me away. “I’ll take you back, now,” he said, turning toward the truck.

“What?” I said, my happiness draining.

“Listen, it’s been a good day. A fun day, but—”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

He looked to his feet. “I’m just feeling out of sorts. With the deer and all.” He tried to smile. “I don’t know.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to go home. Not to the fleas, to the empty apartment. “I saw a bear out there,” I said. “When I was peeing. That’s why I was crawling on the ground.”

His face went soft. “You what?”