The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 278

Clara smiled.

Dinner was specially prepared by Clara's mother, featuring all of Noah's favorite dishes.

At the table, Felix chattered away about how boring kindergarten was and stuck a little red flower sticker he had received onto the back of Noah's hand.

Noah listened patiently, occasionally putting food on Felix and Clara's plates.

He didn't mention the airport incident, nor did he ask about the person who had driven them to Everton.

It was as if that page of the book had been casually flipped over, and no one intended to turn back and read the fine print.

After dinner, Clara's parents took Felix for a walk by the seaside to digest their meal. Felix had insisted Noah come along, but Clara's mom coaxed him away, saying, "Daddy Noah just got back from work and needs to rest."

Clara sliced a plate of oranges and carried them out to the second-floor terrace.

Noah was standing by the railing, his back to the room, staring out at the dark ocean.

"What are you thinking about?" Clara walked over and placed the fruit plate on the small round table.

Noah turned around. His gaze rested on her face for a few seconds before he reached out and took a slice of orange. "I was thinking that it's already freezing in Brighton City. It might snow again soon."

Clara nodded. "That's true. People are probably wearing down jackets on the streets there by now."

It was still in the seventies in Heron Bay, but Brighton City was already on the verge of winter.

Noah held the orange slice, hesitating for a long time before speaking.

"Clara, Rhys's grandfather... he might not make it."

Clara's hand paused on a toothpick. "Really? What happened?"

"Heart failure, complicated by a lung infection," Noah explained. "I asked a colleague. Although they managed to resuscitate him, he's just buying time. I'm afraid he won't survive the winter."

Clara lowered her eyes, looking at the golden orange flesh on the plate.

The face of that stern old man in her memory had already become somewhat blurry.

Old Mr. Huntington was a man of rules and hierarchy. When she had first married into the Huntington family, the old man felt she wasn't good enough, but he’d always kept her at arm’s length. He didn't interfere in her relationship with Rhys and never openly embarrassed her.

Back then, to please him, she had learned how to brew tea properly. When the old man drank it, he would simply nod faintly and say, "Thoughtful of you."

There wasn't much deep affection, but it was still a human life.

"When people get old, this day always comes," Clara said. "He had a wealthy and prestigious life. He should have no regrets leaving."

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