My Husband Wished for My Love, Then Got Bored in Year Seven Chapter 05

My Husband Wished for My Love, Then Got Bored in Year Seven Chapter 05

Alert after alert blared, each one piercing his ears like a siren.

“WARNING: Fire detected. Occupant present. Immediate evacuation required.”

“Critical alert: Structure compromised. Evacuate Lucille immedi-” The transmission cut to static.

A deafening boom cut the transmission dead.

This whole-house security system had been custom-built by Thomas himself, back when we were together. He’d pulled countless all-nighters to finish designing it.

Every single automated warning phrase had been typed in by his own hand, and the alarms had never once gone off before.

Panic twisted in Thomas’s chest. He opened the app and watched live footage flicker with orange flames

and thick, billowing smoke.

He sat bolt upright in his seat, straining against the seatbelt.

“Thomas, what’s wrong?” Angela grabbed his arm. “We’re taking off. You need to put your phone away.”

Thomas’s eyes burned bright with terror. “I have to go back. The house is on fire, and Lucille is still inside!”

Angela stood and glanced at the video on his screen. A calculating gleam flashed in her eyes.

“Thomas, you know what Lucille is like. If there was even a tiny spark in that house, she would have been blowing up your phone, begging you to come home.”

“Look at all that smoke, and not a single call from her. She probably started this fire on purpose.”

His friends nodded in agreement as they listened.

“Yeah, and all we see is smoke on camera. If the fire was real, wouldn’t Lucille run outside? The surveillance

would catch her fleeing.”

“She most likely lit the fire herself just to lure you back. She already tried jumping off a building once. She’ll stoop to anything.”

The memory of everything that had happened flooded back, and his panic slowly faded.

They were right. If she had been desperate enough to leap from a balcony, staging a fire was hardly beyond

her.

Still, a strange, gnawing unease lingered in his heart.

“Besides, I texted Mason three minutes ago,” Angela held her phone out for Thomas to see. “He said everything is fine.”

A message from a friend of more than ten years stared back at him. Thomas let out a long shaky breath and

sank back into his seat, wiping cold sweat from his face. His face twisted with open disgust and irritation.

“After all this time, I still fell for it.”

He locked his phone and powered it off.

Once they arrived at their destination, there were no missed calls or texts waiting for him.

In the past, Lucille would have blown up his phone incessantly.

Thomas had just tapped Lucille’s number when Angela walked over, sunscreen in hand, her cheeks flushed faintly pink.

“Thomas, the sun is brutal today. Could you put sunscreen on my back? I can’t reach.”

For the very first time, Thomas turned her down.

“Ask one of the girls to help you. I need to call Lucille.”

Angela’s smile froze. She could no longer contain her hurt and frustration.

“Why did you agree to this trip with me if you can’t stop thinking about her? You promised you’d spend this

time with me.”

“You don’t even love Lucille anymore. Why do you keep worrying about her?”

“I don’t love her?” Thomas turned and stared straight at Angela. “When did I ever say that? I’m just worn out

by her constant suspicion. If she were her old self again, I could love her.”

“What about me?” Tears spilled down Angela’s face. “Do you feel nothing for me at all? If you don’t love me, why protect me? Why make me hope for more?”

Watching her cry, Thomas realized he no longer felt the urge to wipe her tears away. All he could feel was a

mounting sense of dread.

Where were her calls? Where were her messages?

“You’re imagining things.”

Thomas turned and walked away. He dialed Lucille’s number frantically, only to hear that it was powered off.

He tried Mason next. After three rejected calls, Mason finally picked up.

“What are you doing? Where is Lucille? Did she set the house on fire? Did she burn herself?”

Thomas half-expected the same careless, dismissive replies from before: Mason was too busy gaming to

answer, or Lucille had thrown another tantrum and passed out.

Instead, Mason stumbled over his words, vague and evasive. “She’s asleep.”

The last thread of Thomas’s patience snapped.