The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 2

She wanted a child with Rhys.

Three years together, two as husband and wife — from those innocent college days all the way into the real world, she'd poured all her passion and devotion into him.

She quit smoking, quit drinking, and took care of her health. She was impossibly obedient, wanting nothing more than a complete home belonging to her and him.

Simon had mocked her, saying Rhys had put a spell on her.

She didn't care.

She loved him. Wanting to have his children felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Until that night, when she stopped his hand as he was tearing open the wrapper. Full of anticipation, she said, "Don't use it. Let's have a baby."

The air went dead for two seconds.

He silently rolled out of bed and walked into the bathroom. When he came out, he was already wearing his pajamas. He dropped a single sentence: "I don't want one."

Clara didn't understand. She chased after him asking, "Why?"

At the time, Rhys said, "I'm too busy. If you get pregnant, I won't have time to take care of you and the child."

Clara didn't take it seriously the first time. If he didn't have time, they could hire a nanny.

But later, every time she brought it up, he rejected her with various excuses.

The last time, Rhys had been impatient. He pushed away her clinging hands, lectured her with a cold face, and slept in the guest room for several days. He hadn't touched her since.

That night, Clara cried for half the night.

To be fair, she was the one who had relentlessly pursued Rhys back in college. She had always been the proactive one.

He was cold by nature and a man of few words. He wasn't particularly affectionate in daily life. Only when they made love could she find some evidence that she was loved in his uncontrolled tenderness.

But when that final intimacy vanished from their lives, the communication between them dwindled, making them more like roommates sharing a lease.

The fuse for their separation was a phone call from that woman later on.

But Clara knew in her heart that their marriage had already died on the night he said he didn't want children.

Clara blinked, forcing back the sting in her eyes, when she heard Rhys speak again.

"Come back with me. We'll go home together after my shift."

Clara said, "Simon and I have things to do."

She turned to walk toward Simon, but Rhys frowned and grabbed her wrist.

"He was driving under the influence. His car is impounded."

"Then we'll call an Uber."

"Clara, stop making a scene."

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