The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 112

It looked delicious.

Clara guessed he had made it specifically for her—no one accidentally cooks a massive extra portion like that.

She hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed to accept it. "Thank you so much."

"It's okay, just a convenient coincidence."

Noah smiled, but his gaze drifted past her to the dry bread on the dining table. His brow furrowed slightly.

"If your stomach is acting up, you should go easy on that dry stuff."

He placed the bowl into Clara’s hands and, without giving her a chance to refuse, turned and walked downstairs.

"No rush on the bowl. You can just leave it by my door next time."

Clara stood in the doorway, cradling the scalding hot cream of mushroom soup, watching his figure disappear around the stairwell corner.

The soup was pure comfort in a bowl. With the first spoonful, a sense of calm washed over her.

Clara finished every last drop, the rich soup finally chasing away the persistent chill in her bones and bringing a faint flush of warmth to her cheeks.

She thought of her time at Riverside Court.

Whenever she didn't have an appetite, Rhys would frown and lecture her: "You're barely eating. You need to take care of yourself. Don't make me worry."

Clara sniffled. She washed the bowl clean and stood in the entryway for a while.

She took out her phone, pulled up the profile picture from her blacklist, and stared at it for a long time.

She tapped into the chat log. The history was still there.

Clara’s finger hovered, then she tapped on 'Chat Settings' and selected 'Clear Chat History'.

A confirmation box popped up on the screen. Clara didn't hesitate this time. She tapped 'Confirm'.

Five years of conversations—the pleading, the flirting, the waiting—all vanished instantly.

***

Riverside Court.

The television was on, broadcasting the evening news.

Rhys sat on the sofa, holding a case file. Half an hour had passed, and he hadn't turned the page.

His throat felt dry.

"Clara, get me a glass of water."

He didn't look up, calling out out of habit.

The air remained silent for a second.

No response. No footsteps.

His hand, reached out in mid-air, froze.

Rhys’s frown deepened. He didn't need to answer to know what it was about.

Veronica had been calling three times a day lately, dropping hints that he should care more about Margot.

"Margot's heart has been acting up again. She says she feels guilty about upsetting Clara during the holidays and can't eat. Rhys, don't you have some responsibility here? Shouldn't you come see her?"

Rhys had brushed it off every time.

This time, he really didn't want to answer, letting the call ring until it disconnected.

Immediately after, Jason from the precinct called.

Rhys answered, his voice cold and low. "Speak."

"Captain Huntington, we have a lead on that hit-and-run case. Surveillance cameras caught the suspect vehicle entering Clearwater Bay on the West Side..."

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting into work mode. "Send me the location. I'm heading there now."

He stood up, grabbed his coat, and headed out.

Passing the entryway, he glanced at the spot where Clara’s slippers used to be.

There was nothing there now.

The irritation in his chest intensified.

He paused in the foyer, stared at the empty space for a few seconds, and then pushed the door open to leave.