The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 314

Clara closed her eyes, buried her face in her pillow, and cursed through gritted teeth.

"Bastard."

The word did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. If anything, it only made the ache worse.

...

In the hospital room, Rhys moved his left hand, a dull pain radiating from the IV site.

He picked up his phone and made a call.

It rang a few times before it was answered by Captain Ray's booming voice. "What's this? Ready to cancel your leave and come back to duty?"

Rhys's voice was hoarse, as if scraped raw by smoke. "I need to request a few more days."

A moment of silence on the other end. "What's wrong with your throat?"

"A fever, a bit of pneumonia," Rhys downplayed, not mentioning the infected wounds. "They're keeping me in the hospital. Said I need a follow-up in a couple of days, so I can't leave just yet."

"Alright, your health comes first," Captain Ray said. "I'll approve the leave. I'll talk to the Deputy Chief."

"Thanks, Captain."

"By the way, that thing with you…" Captain Ray started, then trailed off. "Never mind. We'll talk when you get back."

After hanging up, Rhys opened his messages.

There were two from Mia.

[Rhys, are you in Brighton City?]

[If you have a moment, give me a call. The old man hasn't been himself today, keeps rambling about the past. The Johnsons sent someone over, but I turned them away.]

He thought for a moment, then typed a reply: [I'm not in Brighton City. I won't be back for a while.]

A few seconds after he sent it, his phone rang.

It was Mia. "Where did you go? How long will you be gone?"

"I need to stay in Heron Bay for a few more days."

Mia's tone grew complicated. "Is this about Clara?"

Rhys didn't deny it.

"You're so stubborn… Fine, do what you want. But take care of yourself."

With that, Mia hung up.

Rhys turned his head, watching the tree branches swaying in the wind outside his window.

It would be December soon, but Heron Bay was still green.

Not like Brighton City, buried in wind and snow.

Daniel had said that hate lasts longer than love.

If he was destined to be hated for the rest of his life, then at least that was a way for her to remember him.

It was better than being a stranger, better than being completely forgotten, swept away by the wind as time passed.

"When my wounds heal…"

He whispered to himself.

"When they heal, and when I'm cleaned up, maybe… maybe I can try to learn how to be a slightly better person. Even if it means starting from scratch. Even if Clara throws me out a hundred times."