The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 297

Lying next to Felix, Clara's breathing was uneven. She closed her eyes, but the image of the scars on his back was seared into her mind.

Rhys pulled on the clothes. As he did, his gaze swept across the doors on the upper floors.

Clara had gone to the third floor, while Simon and her parents were on the second.

And Noah... he had watched the last sliver of light disappear from under the door on the right side of the second floor.

Rhys had spent four years on a Special Ops team; his greatest strength was observing his environment and catching details.

A moment ago, when Clara told him to change, she had brought him Simon's clothes.

If they were truly a loving couple... as the husband, Noah should have stayed by his startled wife's side, not gone to sleep alone in a guest room.

"Separate rooms?" Rhys murmured to himself. Or were they not even married at all?

Rhys lifted his injured left hand and covered his eyes. The wound on the back of his hand still throbbed with a dull pain, but suddenly, that pain felt a little lighter.

In the darkness, a muffled laugh escaped his throat.

The gap in the family portrait wasn't just a missing face on a wall; it was a cold, empty space in her life—and her bed.

"What's so funny?"

A cold voice suddenly came from the top of the stairs.

Rhys moved his hand and turned his head.

Noah had returned, standing by the second-floor railing with a box of medicine in his hand.

"Nothing."

Rhys shifted on the sofa, propping himself against the armrest to find a more comfortable position. He looked up, meeting Noah's gaze.

His eyes, which usually held a certain gloom, now seemed to have a spark of light in them.

Noah's grip on the medicine box tightened. He understood what he saw in Rhys's eyes.

"Take this." He flicked his wrist, and the box of pills landed on Rhys's leg. "Fever reducer, two pills at a time. If the water's cold, get it yourself."

With that, he turned and went back into the room.

Rhys picked up the box, popped out two pills, and swallowed them dry. He closed his eyes again, listening to the sounds from upstairs.

Rhys didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that assessment.

He raised a hand to smooth his brow, trying to relax his expression. "How about now? Still look mean?"

Felix studied him for a moment before giving a reluctant nod. "A little better."

He glanced upstairs, then added, "Mom's asleep. She was really tired today, so she's sleeping deeply. You don't have to worry about her coming down to kick you out."

Rhys's heart softened. "Is that so? Thank you for telling me."

"Did you get hurt saving Orange?" Felix stroked the kitten's head.

"Orange?"

"I just named him," Felix said. "He's orange, so his name is Orange. He's so small. If no one had saved him, the wind would have blown him away tonight."

Rhys's throat felt tight.

He wanted to say it was just a coincidence—that the kitten was in the middle of the road, blocking his car. He was worried the car behind him would hit it, so he planned to take it back to his hotel. He never expected the tree to fall the moment he got out.