The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 16

"I told you not to go! Usually, you're the one beating people up, and now look, you got hit! Does it hurt?"

"Obviously."

Clara rolled her eyes internally but had no energy to bicker with him.

"It's okay."

"Okay my ass! Your face is swollen!"

Simon was furious at her half-dead appearance but heartbroken for his best friend. He dug an ice pack out of the freezer, wrapped it carefully in a towel, and pressed it against her face, grumbling the whole time.

The cold contact made the burning skin throb.

Clara sucked in a breath of cold air.

"And that blind bastard Rhys! His wife gets slapped right in front of him, and he runs to hug that manipulative bitch?!"

Alex finished arranging the succulents and poked his head out of the room. "Simon, should I... head back to school now?"

Simon roared at him, "Go back for what! Stay here! Go order some food for Clara, something light, and buy some ointment for the swelling!"

Alex said "Oh," and quickly put on his jacket and left, looking like a kicked puppy.

Clara wanted to smile, but the corner of her mouth pulled at the injury, making her hiss in pain.

"You can still smile?" Simon glared at her, disappointed by her lack of fighting spirit.

"What else?" Clara leaned back on the sofa, letting him ice her face. "Cry? I'm out of tears today. Can't squeeze any out."

That slap seemed to have knocked all the grievances and tears she had accumulated over the years right back inside.

Her face truly hurt.

But the hole in her chest felt like it was gaping open, cold wind rushing in.

It was empty and numb, so it didn't hurt anymore.

"I finally get it," Clara said, staring at the ceiling. "In their eyes, I'm just an outsider."

"You just figured that out?" Simon was exasperated. "I told you long ago, his mother is selfish, so how good could the son be? Only you were blinded by that stone face of his."

Clara didn't argue.

She really had been fooled by that face.

Starting from that tall figure in the snow back in college, she had fallen headfirst, crashing and burning.

Simon had a shoot and had left before dawn. Alex had gone back to school.

On the dining table, a food cover sat next to a sticky note with Simon's handwriting:

[Soup is inside. I'm going to shoot a commercial to make money to support you. If I come back tonight and find you ran back to that bastard, I'll break your legs.]

Clara was speechless.

She had the soup and took out her phone.

The screen was clean. No missed calls, no unread messages.

She opened the browser and typed a few words into the search bar:

Who is the best divorce lawyer Brighton City?

The top result was a firm called "Anker & Co. Law Firm." The lead attorney was named Daniel Reed. His resume was glittering gold, and the man in the photo wore a black suit with sharp eyes—he looked like someone you didn't want to mess with.

Rumor had it he specialized in hard battles and had never lost a case.

Clara didn't hesitate and called the firm directly.

"Hello, I'd like to book an appointment with Mr. Daniel Reed."