DAN AGAIN
1139 Words
Susan’s POV
Morning slips into afternoon far too quickly, the kind of day where time seems to disobey the usual rules. My nerves are crawling beneath my skin, every thought circling back to the same question:
Why is Dan talking to Vina behind my back?
The question follows me through the shower, into my closet as I choose something “I can run in”—Vina’s words slithering inside my mind like a warning wrapped in silk. I pull on black leggings, a fitted top, and tie my hair back. My reflection looks like a woman preparing for a survival course… or an ambush.
Jayden is safely at daycare.
My phone buzzes.
Dan.
Home early. Need to talk.
My stomach tightens. Perfect timing—or perfectly suspicious timing.
When he walks through the door fifteen minutes later, he looks calm in a way that almost feels wrong. His hair is still damp from the office gym, shirt slightly undone, tie hanging loose around his neck. He leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching me too closely.
“Where are you going?” he asks, eyes moving slowly over my outfit.
“I’m meeting the ladies,” I answer.
He nods like he already knows. “Vina mentioned that.”
There it is again.
Her name on his tongue.
Too casual.
Too familiar.
I pretend to check the fridge, needing something to ground me. “You didn’t tell me you talked to her.”
“It wasn’t important.” His tone is smooth, practiced. “She just stopped me outside the gym.”
Stopped him.
Outside the gym.
Vina in her silk dresses and red lipstick hanging around a men’s gym? No.
“She invited you to something?” Dan asks, pulling out a water bottle. “A run?”
“Something like that,” I mutter.
“Good,” he says, opening the bottle. “It’ll be good for you.”
I freeze.
Good for me.
The exact phrase Vina used.
Like they rehearsed it.
My voice shakes a little when I speak. “Why are you so… involved in this?”
Dan looks at me sharply. “Involved? Susan, the only thing I’m involved in is trying to help you socialize.”
“By talking to Vina without telling me?”
“If it helps you,” he repeats simply.
He takes a sip of water and walks toward me. Too slow. Too aware.
“You’ve been different lately,” he says quietly.
I step back. “Different how?”
“Distracted. Jumpy.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Like you’re hiding something.”
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Me?”
His jaw tightens. “Yes, you.”
The room feels suddenly too warm, too small.
“What exactly did Vina say to you?” I ask, bracing myself.
Dan hesitates for a fraction of a second—but I see it.
A c***k.
A lie is forming.
“She said you’ve been doing well. Fitting in.” He shrugs. “That’s it.”
That’s it.
But his eyes shift away, betraying him.
He’s lying.
I breathe out slowly, controlling my voice, keeping everything inside my chest contained.
“Dan… do you know her from before Pinecrest?”
He actually laughs. “What? No. Why would you think that?”
Because Thompson said so.
Because Lila warned me.
Because something feels wrong.
I swallow instead of answering. “Then why does it feel like you trust her more than you trust me?”
He sets the water bottle down with a sharp clack. “Is that what this is about?”
“I don’t know what this is,” I say truthfully.
He steps closer, too close, the scent of his cologne suddenly overwhelming. “I didn’t come home early to fight. I came home because I’m worried about you.”
His thumb touches my cheek gently.
But it doesn’t comfort me.
Not anymore.
“You’re imagining things,” he murmurs, brushing hair behind my ear. “These women—they like you. They want you around.”
“They want me for something,” I whisper.
Dan freezes.
Just for a breath.
Barely a heartbeat.
But I feel it.
He hides it quickly, leaning back with a strained smile. “Susan. You’re overthinking—”
“No,” I interrupt softly. “I’m noticing.”
His jaw clenches—full, involuntary.
Then, voice low, controlled, he says, “Just… be careful today. Okay?”
My chest tightens. “Why? Are you worried something will happen?”
“No,” he says too quickly. “Just—Just stay with them. Stay close.”
That doesn’t sound like reassurance.
It sounds like instruction.
I take a step back. “Dan… what aren’t you telling me?”
He opens his mouth—then closes it.
His eyes drop to the ground.
His fingers flex.
He breathes in sharply, like a man wrestling with something he can’t say aloud.
“I love you,” he says.
But it feels like he’s saying it to stop me from asking the question again.
“Okay,” I murmur. “I’ll be back before dinner.”
He nods, but his expression is wrong—strained, tight, like he’s sending me somewhere and hoping I don’t realize it’s dangerous.
As I move toward the door, Dan catches my wrist gently.
“Susan.”
I turn.
He pulls me into a hug so tight it’s almost suffocating.
“Just… don’t run too fast,” he whispers into my hair.
Something cold unravels inside my stomach.
“Why?” I whisper.
He releases me with a breath that is almost—almost—shaken.
“No reason.”
But his eyes betray him.
Fear.
Regret.
Something darker is lurking beneath.
And for the first time in our marriage, I wonder if my husband is not trying to protect me—
—but preparing me.
I open the front door slowly.
Dan watches me like he’s memorizing me.
Like he’s afraid he won’t see me again.
As I step outside, the wind shifts. Pinecrest feels heavier, the air thicker, the shadows sharper.
Somewhere in the woods, Vina is waiting.
And Dan’s words echo through my bones:
“Don’t run too fast.”
What does he mean?
What happens if I do?
The door closes behind me, and the sound feels final—like a chapter ending or a trap engaging.
I walk down the driveway with my heart hammering beneath my ribs.
And every step feels like it might be leading me straight into something—
A hunt.
A game.
A setup.
A truth Dan is too afraid to tell me.
But I’m going anyway.
Because whatever waits for me in Pinecrest…
I need to see it for myself.
- Writer
