The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 196

After replying, Clara couldn't help but find the situation ironic.

Here she was, a woman who had failed spectacularly in her own marriage, now acting as a relationship guru for someone else.

She stared at her bare ring finger until tears pricked at her eyes

...

Under the same night sky, Rhys pulled his car into the garage and killed the engine.

It had been a long time since he had returned to Riverside Court.

The housekeeper still came on schedule. The house was spotless, and nothing seemed to have changed.

Rhys stood in the entryway, his gaze drifting to the shoe cabinet.

Those fluffy bunny slippers were gone.

Subconsciously, he glanced toward the bedroom, half-expecting Clara to run out at any second, eyes bleary with sleep, complaining about how late he was before throwing herself into his arms.

He waited for a while, but the house remained dead silent.

Rhys felt his throat tighten. He crouched down and opened the cabinet door, only to find the slippers had merely been put away by the housekeeper.

He let out a bitter laugh. Without turning on the main lights, he walked to the sofa and sat down.

A headache began to throb in waves. Out of habit, he almost called her name, but it caught in his throat.

There was no Clara here anymore.

Liam said he had run into her at Haven Mall around noon.

Where did she go after leaving the mall? Who did she have dinner with? Was she asleep now?

No one would tell him.

Clara had always been the bright spot in his life. He had always assumed she was the one who couldn't leave him, allowing him to selfishly absorb her warmth.

Only after she was gone did it hit him—too late—that he was the one who didn’t know how to live without her.

Did he love Clara?

Rhys asked himself the question over and over.

The answer was simple.

He thought, "Yes, I do love her."

No matter how tricky the incidents he handled outside were, no matter how exhausting dealing with the Johnson family became, as long as he returned to Riverside Court and held her, the anxiety in his bones would be smoothed away.

He needed Clara.

But why, and when, did he start feeling that she was always being unreasonable?

One moment, it was Margot lying in the snow covered in blood years ago.

The next, it was Clara collapsing in the underground garage not long ago, a spot of dark red staining the ground.

Karma.

It was all karma.

Rhys gripped the nightgown tightly, pressing it hard against his chest.

He hadn't protected Margot. He had bound himself with responsibility for half his life, personally raising her into a monster.

And he hadn't protected Clara, nor the child he hadn't even known existed.

Now she hated him, resented him—and even if she didn't have the energy to hate him anymore, he deserved it.

He deserved to guard these scraps of the past, begging for residual warmth, sleepless night after night.

The bedside clock read 12:00 a.m.

The calendar turned a page. It was now April 7th.

Twenty-four hours left.

Just one last day.