The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 281

Heron Bay didn't really have a winter. Even in November, people on the streets only needed to throw on a light jacket.

Clara lived a structured and fulfilling life.

From Monday to Friday, she dropped Felix off at preschool, then headed home to plan her livestreams, or went into the office for meetings with Simon.

On weekends, she would take her son to the beach to build sandcastles or to the botanical gardens for a picnic.

Life pushed everyone forward; no one had the luxury of staying in one place, wallowing in self-pity.

But occasionally, Clara would wake up in the middle of the night from vague, shifting dreams. Hearing the wind outside, she would find herself in a daze, mistaking it for the sound of snow falling back in Brighton City.

The heavy, rustling snow that would weigh down the tree branches.

But when she opened her eyes, she would only see the curtains billowing in the sea breeze, and the monotonous crashing of the waves would remind her:

This was Heron Bay, and there was no snow here.

Noah Carter had grown even busier.

Right after the hospital announced his promotion to Chief Director, the flu season hit hard.

The hospital was overflowing with patients, and he often worked late into the night, only managing to send Clara a quick message after his shift.

Most of them were simple updates: he had just finished surgery, was finally eating dinner, or that the first snow of the year had fallen in Brighton City, it was freezing, and he missed Heron Bay.

Sometimes, if Clara was still awake, he would just call her.

"Between seeing patients and teaching the residents today, my throat is completely parched."

"Make sure you take some throat lozenges and get some rest early," she would say.

"I just wanted to hear your voice before I go to sleep."

"I think you're just delirious from exhaustion. Hang up and get some sleep."

Nowadays, when Clara and Noah ate together, they always sat right next to each other.

When they took walks in crowded places, Noah would wrap his arm around her, pull her close, and hold her hand without letting go.

Their families noticed the shift in their relationship, but no one pried or made a fuss.

Only Felix would sometimes sit across from them at the dinner table, his little eyes darting back and forth, turning over who-knew-what in his little head.

The days crept closer to the twentieth.

It was going to be little Felix Bridges's fourth birthday.

To a child, there was nothing more important in the world.

The excitement had been building since the beginning of the month.

Felix was thrilled. Every morning, the first thing he did was run barefoot into the living room, stand on his tiptoes by the calendar, and count down the days.

"Twenty days left!"

"Fifteen days left!"

Clara's dad and mom were taking it seriously too. For the past two weeks, they had been debating what to do—whether to book a few tables at a nice restaurant or host a backyard garden party and invite all his preschool friends for a lively celebration.

One evening after dinner, Noah received an urgent call from the hospital. A complex medical case required an expert consultation, and he was specifically requested.

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