The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 1

A pair of rough, calloused hands tore at her dress with savage urgency.

The owner of those hands gave her no chance to breathe. His movements were efficient, his goal precise.

In the darkness, Clara Bridges couldn't see the man's face, but she could smell that familiar scent on him.

Her body went soft in an instant. Every cell in her being screamed in surrender. Her consciousness began to blur, leaving only the sensation of him taking her-

The next second, Clara snapped her eyes open.

The car had just exited a tunnel, and the streetlights made her dizzy.

Clara's heart was pounding violently. It took her a long while to calm down.

That dream again.

"What was wrong with me lately? Am I really that hungry?"

"You awake? What kind of nightmare was that? You look pale."

Simon Walker's voice pulled her back to reality.

Clara glanced at him and rubbed her temples irritably. "It was a wet dream."

Simon shook his head with exaggerated disappointment. "Look at you. You haven't been separated that long, and you're already this thirsty?"

He changed the subject. "It's almost Christmas. Are you two still giving each other the silent treatment? Leaving a beauty like you at my place… isn't he worried?"

Clara's lips curved into a mocking smile.

He probably wished she would never go back, never bother him again.

The trace of heat the dream had ignited in her heart instantly froze into ice.

"He won't."

Clara had made up her mind. If he didn't explain clearly about that woman this time, she would file for divorce. No point in wasting each other's time.

Two years of marriage. She had gone from a blazing fire to a block of ice. That was enough.

The car drove smoothly through the night until Simon suddenly clicked his tongue.

"Checkpoint ahead."

Clara lifted her eyelids and followed his gaze.

At the intersection ahead, red and blue police lights flashed in an alternating rhythm. Several figures in fluorescent vests stood by the roadside with drivers. One of the officers had an exceptionally upright posture.

Even in silhouette, she could recognize him.

Her heart rate spiked. It couldn't be that coincident, could it?

Simon lowered the window a crack, his eyes widening. "Hey, it's your husband."

***

"Name, age. License, registration, and ID, please." Rhys Huntington said coldly. "Did you hear me?"

Simon rummaged through the glove compartment, his mouth running. "Captain Huntington, aren't you overstepping a bit? What are you doing running a checkpoint here?"

Rhys Huntington took the documents, ignoring the chatter. He lifted his eyes to look at the passenger seat. "Smells like a lot of alcohol."

Clara glanced up. It was Jason, someone from her husband's unit. She'd run into him a couple of times before.

"I'm fine, not cold. Go do your job."

Jason didn't want to press, so he returned to the police cruiser.

A rookie, new to the force, leaned in and asked, "Who is she? She looks like a movie star."

Jason said, "Captain Huntington's wife."

She was indeed underdressed.

To accompany Simon to a miserable social event, she had dressed up—shorts and knee-high boots—exposing her long, straight legs. In the freezing night approaching Christmas, she looked like a maniac who couldn't feel the cold.

Passing cars slowed, sending unconcealed stares her way.

Clara stood up and looked at the figure not far away.

It had been about two months since she moved out. She hadn't seen him since. Who would have thought their paths would cross on the road today?

She thought she had achieved inner peace. But the moment she actually saw him, all the grievances she had suppressed for weeks surged up, tearing at her chest with throbbing pain.

Rhys finished processing Simon, turned around, took his heavy police coat from his own car, and walked toward her.

He looked down at her, speaking his first sentence to her in two months. "I thought you quit drinking?"

Clara sniffled, took the coat, and draped it over herself. She replied casually, "Oh, well, I'm not preparing for pregnancy anymore, so I un-quit."

Before moving out, Clara's mind had been consumed by only one thing.