Chapter 6: No Sign Of Lucas

As soon as the call ended, Lara let out a deep sigh and placed her phone on the counter.

That conversation had been exhausting.

She loved her mother, but talking about her marriage always left her feeling suffocated. The guilt of lying to them weighed heavily on her chest. It was one of the reasons she rarely visited home. Her parents, especially her Mom, always expected Lucas to come along, and she knew he never would.

And now, she had to find a way to convince her emotionally distant husband to visit her family this weekend.

Ugh. What a mess.

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she turned her attention back to the laundry. The washing machine had finished, so she moved the clothes to the dryer. Once they were dry, she placed them into a laundry basket and made her way to Lucas’s room.

She rarely entered his space, but since she had already done the laundry, she figured she might as well put his clothes away.

Lucas’s room was spotless, just as she expected. Everything was neat and organized, reflecting his personality.

She took her time folding his clothes, smoothing out the fabric, and carefully arranging them in his closet. It wasn’t often that she entered his room. It felt foreign yet familiar at the same time.

The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, clinging to the sheets and pillows. Without thinking, Lara sat on the bed, hugging one of his pillows close.

It smelled just like him.

A soft, wistful smile tugged at her lips as she closed her eyes. If she imagined hard enough, it almost felt like she was holding him.

The warmth, the closeness—things she had longed for but never received.

And before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.

...

Lara jolted awake, heart pounding.

Disoriented, she blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling.

Lucas’ room.

The realization hit her like a bucket of cold water. She sat up abruptly, glancing around. The sheets were slightly rumpled from where she had slept, but the bed was otherwise untouched.

Lucas wasn’t here.

Fumbling for her phone, she checked the time—11 PM.

Had she really slept that long?

Panicking, she quickly straightened the sheets and left his room, heading downstairs.

The house was eerily quiet.

There was no sign of Lucas.

A pang of unease settled in her chest. He was never this late.

Frowning, she pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Still no reply.

Her thumb hovered over the screen before she typed another message.

Lara: Where are you? Are you coming home?

She waited.

Two minute. No response.

Five minutes. Still nothing.

Ten minutes. Silence.

Biting her lip, she tried calling him.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

Her stomach twisted with unease.

Where was he?

Lucas was often distant, sometimes even cold—but he was never this late. He might come home late, but not like this.

Worry gnawed at her insides.

A thousand thoughts ran through her head, each one worse than the last.

Was he okay? Was something wrong?

Or… was he with someone else?

The thought made her chest tighten painfully.

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head.

No.

She refused to let her mind go there.

Trying to calm her nerves, she made herself a light meal, though she barely tasted it. The clinking of utensils against her plate was the only sound in the house. By the time she finished washing the dishes, it was midnight, and Lucas was still nowhere to be found.

Curling up on the couch, she hugged her knees to her chest. The TV flickered in the background, but she wasn’t paying attention.

She checked her phone again.

Still nothing.

Still no Lucas.

Her fingers tightened around her phone.

She wasn’t just worried anymore. She was frustrated.

Where the hell was he?