Came For My Ex, Trapped By A Serial Killer

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Chapter 1 25th November

25th of November 2020

VICTORIA

I drove through the wet roads of Los Angeles, humming along with the soothing music that played from the radio.

Each glance at the bouquet lying next to me brought a smile to my face and caused my heart to skip. This would be our third anniversary.

I sighed loudly in relief as I drove into our villa and headed to the garage.

From the rearview mirror, I saw Mrs Rachel rush out of the house with an umbrella in hand.

I chuckled and grabbed the bouquet, then stepped out of the car.

"Welcome, ma'am," Mrs Rachel called out as she reached me.

I nodded with a large smile on my face before proceeding into the house with her.

The smile on my face fell when I walked into the house, but I found it in the same way as it was when I left an hour ago to fetch a bouquet.

"He isn't back yet?" I finally asked Mrs Rachel.

She stopped in her tracks in the kitchen and spun around, disappointment lurking in her eyes.

"No, ma'am," she replied in a flat tone.

I sighed and nodded, waving her off.

I had refrained from asking her, keeping my hopes high. I guessed I should have done that and faced the disappointment earlier.

I dropped the bouquet on one of the couches and glanced at the wall clock, my heart clenching.

It was almost ten, and there was still no call from him. I had to go through so much trouble to convince my boss to give me a day off from work. And after everything I had prepared, he still wasn't home.

I consoled myself that it wasn't too late to wait for him. I walked into the kitchen, forcing a smile on my face.

"Mrs Rachel?" I called, and she turned around.

"Keep the food warm. I am going in for a rest, wake me up when he returns," I said, flashing a smile at her.

She hesitated, doubt in her eyes.

"But, ma'am, you have just two hours to twelve," she said, disbelief lurking in her voice.

"I know, he might return by ten or eleven, we can still celebrate then," I replied.

Mrs Rachel sighed and nodded.

I could tell the woman was tired of waiting as well, but what could she do?

At this rate, I should be given an award for the most patient wife.

It was our anniversary, but Simon still refused to show a slight change of character.

As I ascended the stairs, I hoped that he would return. I prayed that my hopes wouldn't get smashed again.

With the prayers of his protection still on my lips, sleep consumed me.

I woke up in a start after sleeping for hours.

"Mrs Rachel?" I called, cursing loudly as I jumped out of bed, my heart racing.

What if she slept off and forgot to open the doors for Simon?!

Different thoughts ran through my head as I raced downstairs, almost spraining my ankle on my way down the stairs.

My heart dropped when I barged into the kitchen and met it empty aside from the flowers that seemed to have withered against the cold air. The candles that had glowed a few hours ago had melted away into heaps of wax, and the food was probably still in the microwave, waiting for the master of the house.

My stomach knotted, and I slumped into a chair, trying to breathe out the anger and pain that suffocated me.

"Ma'am?" Mrs Rachel whispered from the door of the dining room. I slowly raised my head and stared at her with tears filled with tears. I couldn't hide the pain and disappointment anymore. I couldn't stop the tears either.

"I told you not to wait," she muttered.

I broke down at those words and let the tears flow out while crying out loudly.

"It was our anniversary, Mrs Rachel, he promised he would be here, he promised!" I cried, sniffing and wheezing.

Mrs Rachel covered the spaces left between us and wrapped her hands around me.

"It is okay, you did your best, you have done your best, Mrs Armstrong," she whispered, rubbing my back.

I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop getting the pain off my chest.

I had sacrificed a series of emergencies at my workplace for him, for our marriage, and this was what in return? His absence.

Mrs Rachel cupped my cheeks and forced me to look at her with my tear-filled eyes.

"Mrs Armstrong, if you don't feel loved anymore, then you don't have to wait anymore," she muttered, and my throat knotted.

"Huh?" I whispered between chokes.

"Simon loves me, he's never going to stay away without a reason," I whispered.

Mrs Rachel sighed, her eyes dimming.

"I hope you fix your marriage then," she muttered.

I flared, upset by her words.

"My marriage is not broken. Men do far worse things than being absent at their anniversary!" I snapped in anger.

Perhaps I let her see my broken side, which gave her the audacity to talk about my marriage that way.

"I am sorry," she muttered.

I sighed and looked at the withered flowers, the sickening feeling sinking in.

"Clear the table," I muttered and stood up.

She nodded and moved out of the way as I walked out.

The moment I walked into the living room and began to head towards the stairs, the doors flew open.

I spun around, surprised.

The surprise drifted away, and horror set in when I saw Simon standing before the door, breathing heavily with his shirt drenched

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