Foolish

She was still standing at the door, silhouetted against the stark interior light, when he came hurrying up the drive, past his awkwardly parked car, and through the autumn leaves rustling and crackling under his feet.

He had seemed eager, as if he had news, but as soon as he had realised she was waiting for him by the door he suddenly had seemed to stall for time a bit, walking down the driveway as soon as he had got out of the car to close the gates and check the mail, before he came hurrying back up again. He was usually such a stickler for his driving, and now his car was parked a little on the lawn, causing him to walk on the grass instead of the neat concrete, set with expensive slate which they had taken weeks to pick out.

His young face was lined with worry, and she wondered what in the world could make him hurry, make him park his precious car strangely, make him appear so eager and yet so troubled. She bit her bottom lip, even though he always chastised her whenever she used her teeth for anything but eating food, whether it was chewing the inside of her cheek, her nails, or loosening the cap off a bottle. She watched him carefully as he finally approached her; he seemed to be worrying over a different sort of stress as compared to that morning where he has been fretting over the bills that were overdue. They were too young for this really, too young to be living on their own in this huge house. Yes, he had won the lottery through a ticket for his 19th birthday, yes they had been ecstatic and bought their own house, even though they had only been together for less than a year, and yes they hadn’t thought ahead at how much power the huge house would use, especially during the winter when the heaters would be on at all hours of the day. But now he didn’t seem to be thinking at all about that.

“How was work?” he asked casually, just a little too casually for her liking, as he pressed his lips to her temple as he tried to brush past her from the cool winter air into their heated abode.

“Fine…”she replied, confused by his conflicting reactions and words. “And you?”

“Interesting to say the least. Close the door, will you?” he was toeing off his shoes by the cupboard next to the entrance, even though she told him it was bad for the shoes and his heels.

She closed the door automatically and he sighed in appreciation at the now enclosed warmth, pulling her under an arm to hug her against his side.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” his words were muffled against his hair; he wasn’t usually this affectionate, well…not like this anyway. “Is dinner ready?”

She frowned slightly. “I was about to start when I got your phone call…what’s with the hurry but the act nothing’s going on?” She demanded boldly.

He stepped away from her, looking down from his foot in height difference, and rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

“…Give me a minute to get changed and I’ll meet you in the living room…I think we need to talk.”

He took a lot longer than she ever took, which was saying something. Her stomach rumbled, even though she wasn’t in the mood for eating when he was acting like this, and she knew dinner would just be cabonara from the packet, cooked in the microwave with half a cup of milk and a cup or so of hot water. The perfect 10 minute dinner.

Eventually though, he returned down the stairs, and took a seat on the edge of the table across from where she was seated in an armchair. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and then he finally spoke.

“I got a call…while I was at work today…it was a mysterious. They called it a mission.”

“…A mission…” she replied, her tone ever so slightly mocking as she wondered what the hell he was on about now.

He continued on as if he hadn’t really heard her though. “I thought it was a joke at the beginning…but they knew so much. About Josie, about everything!” Josie was his younger sister who had left home (although he was sure she had been taken, she would never run away) when they were fifteen.

“Josie’s already joined them.” He was grinning now, appearing to be unaware of how his wife wasn’t taking the news well. “And now we can join them as well! There’s a mission, and-…why are you looking at me like that?”

She remained silent, not able to believe him, not at all. How could he even believe something like that?

“You’ve gone crazy…” she murmured finally, now that she was sure she had his full attention.

He sighed, looking disappointed as he rose to his feet, fumbling for something in his pocket. “No…I’ve not, actually.” He tilted his head to the side as he watched her. “I knew you wouldn’t take it well. But I gave you a chance.” He withdrew a gun, cocked it, and held it at an angle to her head. “Get to the car. Now. If you please…sweetheart.”