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.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify