The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 131

Simon sighed inwardly.

Clara used to love smiling so much.

Especially when she looked at Rhys, her eyes would practically sparkle.

Even later, when disappointment became a regular occurrence, she had never been like this.

He used to call her foolish, diagnosing her with a terminal case of 'lovesickness.' But looking at her now, he thought being lovesick wasn't so bad—at least she had been alive then.

Unlike now. She was only twenty-five but moved through life like someone twice her age, completely worn out by the world.

"Peace and quiet is good," Simon said, looking away. "Those people... I never saw them caring about you before. Now that something’s happened, suddenly everyone wants to play the saint. Where were they when you needed them?"

Clara lowered her eyes and didn't respond.

Mia treated her well; she couldn't deny that.

Unfortunately, that warmth was entirely dependent on Rhys.

Mia was kind to her because she was Rhys's wife. If that tie was severed, or if Rhys truly turned against her, that kindness would vanish.

Clinging to that kind of affection was like clutching a live grenade— sooner or later, it was going to blow up in her face.

"Simon, can you help me get a new phone number tomorrow?"

Simon nodded. "That’s easy enough. But do you plan to hide forever? We’re talking about a divorce, not a prison break."

"I'll hide as long as I can. I just need to keep things stable for the baby. Once I start showing, it’ll be time for me to leave anyway."

"Go where?"

"The South, maybe." Clara thought for a moment. She didn’t have a real destination in mind—just this gut need to run. "Brighton City is too cold. It’s not good for the baby."

The winters here were too long, the wind too harsh, and the memories too bitter.

Simon put on a playful grin. "Alright. Wherever you want to go, I’m coming with you. I’ll be your bodyguard."

Clara’s lips curled into a faint smile.

At five-thirty in the afternoon, the hallway lights flickered on.

There were two knocks on the door. It wasn't locked, and the visitor pushed it open.

Noah walked in holding a paper bag, making himself right at home.

"Dr. Carter?"

Now, with an expensive little bundle on the way, her private savings wouldn't last long.

Clara said, "I used to think that after the divorce, I’d just find a job. I might be a bit rusty after these few years, but the foundation is still there. Even if I start from the bottom, I could support myself."

Simon nodded. "Absolutely. Our Clara was a top student at Ashton University's Department of Economics. You won scholarships left and right. If it wasn't for that..."

He glanced at Clara’s expression and swallowed the words 'that bastard.'

"But I can't do that now."

Clara looked down at her stomach. "This pregnancy is unstable. And even if it stabilizes, no company is going to hire a pregnant woman who’ll need maternity leave almost immediately."

Simon rubbed his chin, and suddenly, a lightbulb went on.

"It's just about making money, right? Clara, did you forget what my side hustle is?"

Clara blinked. "What?"

"Streaming!"

Simon’s eyes lit up as he jumped off the sofa. "You can't work a 9-to-5, and you can't overexert yourself. Streaming is perfect! You stay at home, sit down, chat, or put on makeup. The hours are flexible, and the money comes fast."