Chapter 8 - Just in Case
Athena stood exactly where she had been when James said it.
We need to talk.
Her grocery bags were still in her hands.
She set them slowly on the kitchen counter, her heart beating too fast for a normal conversation.
James didn't sit.
He paced once across the living room like he was trying to find the right words.
That alone made her uneasy.
James always knew what to say.
"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.
He stopped and looked at her.
His expression softened, but it felt forced.
"Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just... need you to listen to me carefully, okay?"
She nodded immediately. "Okay."
He walked closer.
"Do you trust me?"
The question caught her off guard.
"Of course I do."
"Completely?"
"Yes."
He studied her face like he was searching for something.
Then he nodded to himself.
"Good."
A strange silence filled the room.
Athena clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.
James ran a hand through his hair.
"There's a chance we might need to leave for a little while."
Her stomach dropped.
"Leave?"
"Just temporarily. Nothing bad. Just... precaution."
"Precaution for what?"
He hesitated too long.
"Work stuff."
She nodded even though it didn't make sense.
"Okay."
He watched her carefully, like he expected her to question him.
She didn't.
That seemed to bother him more.
"I need you to pack a bag tonight," he said. "Just essentials. Clothes. Toiletries. Nothing else."
Her chest tightened.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"Not yet. Just in case."
Just in case.
Those three words made her skin prickle.
She nodded. "Okay."
He stepped closer and cupped her face gently.
"You're such a good wife, Athena."
Her heart fluttered at the praise.
She leaned into his touch.
"I just want to make sure you're safe," he added.
Safe from what?
She didn't ask.
Because she didn't want to seem difficult.
?
Upstairs, Athena opened her closet and stared at her clothes.
Her mind felt foggy.
She pulled out a small suitcase and laid it on the bed.
Folded shirts.
Jeans.
Pajamas.
Underthings.
Each item felt strangely heavy in her hands.
Like she wasn't packing for a trip.
Like she was packing to leave something behind.
She paused and looked around the bedroom.
Her eyes landed on the nightstand.
The framed photo from their wedding day.
She picked it up.
They both looked so happy.
So normal.
So certain.
Her throat tightened.
"Why does this feel wrong..." she whispered.
She placed the photo face down on the nightstand and zipped the suitcase closed.
Downstairs, James stood near the back window, staring into the darkness of the forest.
His jaw was tight.
His breathing shallow.
Like he was waiting for something to come out of those trees.
And for the first time since they had moved into this house...
James Whitlock looked afraid.