The Fifth Year of Marriage to Him novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

His face darkened, he got up and went to the bathroom.

He was gone, but Maricela’s perfume still lingered in the air; Lucille got up, sprayed her own perfume around the room, then took a deep breath and said to herself: That’s it, anyway I’ll be leaving soon, don’t waste energy on these pointless things.

The next day, when Cedrick got up, Lucille was still asleep.

She thought he would pack and leave on his own, but unexpectedly, he insisted on waking her up.

“Tired!”

She slapped his hand.

“Lucille.”

He stood by the bed, dragging his voice, “You’re getting more and more incompetent now, not caring about my meals, not preparing my clothes, I have a business trip, and you won’t even pack my luggage?”

Lucille opened her eyes, fine, then pack it!

She entered the walk–in closet, opened his suitcase, and packed a week’s worth of clothes. She folded them neatly and placed them inside, then organized his toiletries into separate bags before adding them to the luggage. Finally, she dragged the suitcase to the bedroom, opened a drawer, and pulled out a box of condoms to pack.

But just as she set it down, his hand clamped around her wrist.

“Where did you get these?” Cedrick demanded, tightening his grip.

Truthfully, she’d bought them right after their wedding. Back then, unsure if their marriage was stable enough for children and feeling they lacked emotional foundation, she’d decided postponing parenthood was wise. Who knew this preparation would prove pointless…

She smiled faintly. “Prepared them specially for you. Tell me, am I doing alright as Mrs. Maynard?”

17:16

Chapter 42

“You…” Cedrick snatched the box and hurled it into the trash bin. “Useless. I don’t need these. Even if we had a child, I can damn well provide. Besides, I don’t have one now!”

He slammed the suitcase shut, locked it, and carried it out himself.

Lucille stood frozen for a moment before shaking her head, forcing all the hurt and bitterness from her mind. She had her own preparations to handle.

Yesterday’s 1-20 form remained incomplete, missing several items. After breakfast, she headed out to obtain her bank statement. Returning home, she holed up in her room to continue filling the form. By afternoon it still wasn’t done, but her flight couldn’t wait. She gathered everything, planning to finish en route.

Mylee stared in disbelief as Lucille wheeled her suitcase out. “Where are you going?” Since when did the homebody travel alone?

“I’m attending my university’s anniversary celebration. Back in two days. Don’t mention this to Cedrick–no need to worry him.”

“Oh… alright,” Mylee agreed.

Downstairs, Lucille hailed a taxi straight to the airport.

She reached Capital City that evening, texting Dr. Meredith: Arrived. See you tomorrow at the visa office. Then she took a cab to her hotel.

Without resting, she opened her laptop and worked on the form until 3 AM. Finally hitting send, she set an alarm and collapsed into bed.

Despite severe sleep deprivation, she woke the next morning with unnatural alertness. Northern weather proved flawless–none of the south’s seasonal rains.

Riding in the car, five–year–absent streets flooded her with dreamlike familiarity. A bittersweet ache hit her hard. Every blossom, every storefront, every overpass screamed recognition inside her: This is it!

Ah!

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