The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 368

He closed his eyes and turned slightly, his back facing Clara.

There was a rustle of movement behind him. A hand suddenly reached over, cupped his chin, and forced his head back around. "Drink."

A straw touched his lips. Rhys opened his eyes, the surprise in them so raw and unguarded it struck Clara directly.

"You…"

"Are you drinking or not? If not, I'm pouring it out."

Rhys immediately took two sips.

"This won't work, Rhys," Clara said.

"Then what will?" he asked.

He didn't know what to say and didn't dare try anything else.

He extended a finger, tentatively hooking her pinky. His skin was feverish and dry.

"As long as you don't leave, I'll do anything."

"I never said I wasn't leaving." Clara tried to pull her hand back, but for someone who looked so weak, his grip was surprisingly firm. "I'm just not leaving right now. Once your fever breaks, I'm going back to Heron Bay."

"Do you have to go back to Heron Bay to get married?" Rhys pressed, unwilling to let it go.

Clara didn't answer.

Rhys lowered his gaze, staring for a long time at their intertwined fingers.

"You're about to get married," he said again. "It's not really appropriate for you to be here with your ex-husband."

He started coughing again.

Clara couldn't stand seeing him in this frail, broken state. She frowned. "Can you please stop talking? Can't you just get some rest?"

"I can't sleep," Rhys said with a faint smile. "Every time I close my eyes, I see you leaving with Felix, or I see you at your wedding, smiling at someone else."

He pressed his hand against his eyes.

"Clara, for the past four years, every time I was on a mission, the only thing I was afraid of was that if I went down, I'd never see you again."

Clara's tone was less than kind. "You already wrote your will, didn't you? What were you afraid of?"

"Yeah. The money would have been there, but I would have been gone."

He paused to catch his breath. "I used to think that if I died like that, maybe you'd come see me, for the money's sake. Even if you just cursed at my gravestone, at least you would have come."

As Clara listened to his every word, the hand resting on her lap had unknowingly clenched into a fist.

She used to think Rhys was heartless.

Later, she realized his heart had been shattered long ago. He had just been holding himself together, wrapping himself in a shell of indifference.

Now that shell was broken, too, revealing the raw, bleeding mess inside.

He wouldn't say ‘I love you' when he felt it, wouldn't run from hatred, and now that he wanted her back, he was willing to throw his life away for it.

She looked him in the eye and said, word by word, "You can offer a gift, but that doesn't mean I have to accept it."

"Since you prayed for this protection, you can keep it for your own wretched life. If you want to wish Felix and me happiness, then wait until you're better. Stand up, and say it to our faces like a proper man."

"In this half-dead state, I won't accept it, and neither will Felix."

With that, she sat back down in the chair, hugged her bag to her chest, and closed her eyes.

Rhys stared at her. After a long while, he suddenly pulled the blanket over his head.

A muffled, choked sob came from beneath the covers.

That year, after her university graduation, she had dragged Rhys to church to pray for blessings, insisting he write a wish on a prayer card.

Rhys had scribbled something, crumpled it up, and thrown it away, calling it superstitious nonsense.

Clara had pouted, called him unromantic, and turned to hang up her own card before going inside the sanctuary to pray.

After she was gone, Rhys had retrieved the crumpled card.

He smoothed it out, hung it up right beside hers, and bound their two strings together in a permanent knot—one that would never come undone.He hadn't wished for promotions or wealth, nor a brilliant future.

On that little card, fluttering in the breeze, he had written:

[If it's for Clara, I want to live a little longer.]

Even back then, she was already his reason to live.