The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 232

Noah closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. "There's no rush."

"No rush? The kid is a month old. Wait any longer and he'll be calling someone else 'Daddy'."

"Cameron, you don't understand."

Cameron scoffed. "What don't I understand?"

"Her wounds haven't fully healed yet. If I confess now, even if she agrees, it will likely be out of gratitude or a sense of obligation."

"I don't want repayment, and I don't want a relationship born of convenience."

He looked at Cameron. "I want to wait until she truly sees me. I want her to accept me because I am Noah, not because I'm a savior."

Cameron was left speechless. "...Fine. You're a saint."

Noah smiled.

-

When Rhys finally woke up, it was five days after the explosion.

His back suffered massive burns, the blast shockwave had damaged his internal organs, and holding up the debris to protect the hostage had caused severe smoke inhalation and lung infection.

The doctors had issued critical condition notices multiple times, but he had been dragged back from the brink each time.

Mia had been by his bedside the entire time. Seeing him open his eyes, she hurriedly called for the doctor.

A swarm of white coats rushed in, shining lights into his pupils and pressing stethoscopes to his chest.

Rhys didn't move or speak, letting them work.

Only when the doctor announced his vitals were stable and that he would live—provided the infection was controlled—did Mia let out a breath. She held his hand and wept. "Thank god, Rhys. You scared me. If anything happened to you, how would I ever face your grandfather?"

Rhys turned his head, his gaze landing on the bedside table.

There, inside a transparent evidence bag, lay a bloodstained necklace. Hanging from the chain was a ring engraved with "R&C."

During his coma, his dreams had been bizarre and chaotic.

But one figure always pierced through the darkness, standing in the light, waiting for him.

It was Clara, smiling.

"You have to survive, hero."

Although his body couldn't handle high-intensity field operations yet, the Commissioner approved his transfer to the SWAT Command Center, where he was put in charge of major case analysis and tactical deployment.

People in the force quickly noticed that the former Traffic Unit Captain had changed.

He became more silent, stern, and unsmiling.

He didn't attend celebration dinners or private gatherings, and rarely even went home. He stopped wearing civilian clothes, staying in his uniform year-round, his expression cold and severe. He lived in the single officers' dorms, spending his days working or staring at walls covered in case analysis charts.

Relying on his work ethic and analytical skills, within two years, he was promoted to a high-ranking position equivalent to a Commander.

The year he formally transferred to SWAT, Zachary took over his old position as Captain of the Traffic Unit. Occasionally, when they had joint operations, Zachary would come to see Rhys.

Seeing his brother-in-arms change so drastically over the years was painful.

"Rhys, why don't I check on her for you? I'll just say I want to buy a house on Oakridge Avenue and need to contact the landlord. It's not against the rules."

"No need." Rhys didn't look up, continuing to sign documents. "Don't disturb her."

Clara had her new life, loving family, and friends. Perhaps in the future, she would have a husband who truly loved her, and adorable children.

She would be reborn in love.