The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 212

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Even if he had to kneel and beg for forgiveness, he would do it.

Rhys drove west. It was the height of rush hour, and the road was a river of red taillights. Anxiety burned in his chest. Finally, unable to wait, he slapped his portable police light onto the roof, tearing a path through the traffic with the siren's wail.

He had to be faster.

The forty-minute drive was compressed into twenty.

He slammed on the brakes downstairs, not even bothering to lock the car as he sprinted up the steps, taking them three at a time. Standing before the familiar door, he steadied his breathing and knocked.

"Dad, Mom. It's me, Rhys."

Footsteps approached from inside.

He had grown used to the silent treatment recently, so hearing someone actually come to the door sparked a glimmer of hope.

The door opened, revealing a stranger's face.

A young man in gray overalls and a dust cap stood there, holding a tape measure, looking confused.

Rhys froze. He stepped back to check the unit number. It was correct.

"...Who are you? Where is the family that lives here?"

"The family?"

The worker looked him up and down, then glanced back into the apartment. "You mean the previous owners? They moved out."

A buzzing sound erupted in Rhys's head. He shoved past the man and stormed inside.

"Hey! Who are you?!"

The worker shouted from behind, but Rhys couldn't hear him. He stood in the center of the living room, looking around.

The furniture was still there, but the soul of the house was gone.

The tea set Mr. Bridges loved was missing from the coffee table. The blanket Mrs. Bridges had hand-knit was gone from the sofa. On the wall where the Bridges family portrait used to hang, there was only a rectangular pale patch.

In that photo, Clara had worn a ponytail, smiling with her eyes curved into crescents, standing between her parents making a silly peace sign. It was taken before they got married. Without him. Clara had asked him to join, but he had said it wasn't appropriate since they weren't wed yet.

Now, only a ghost of the frame remained.

Rhys walked over, staring at the blank space, his fingers tracing the wall lightly.

"Sir? Sir!"

A commotion at the door heralded the arrival of a breathless real estate agent in a suit. Seeing a man standing in the room, he put on a professional smile.

"You must be here to see the apartment? Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The agent didn't notice Rhys's pale face and immediately launched into his pitch: "Sir, you have a great eye! The location is prime, right in the school district. It's an older building, but the natural light is unbeatable. The previous owners were very clean people; look at these floors..."