The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 398

The truth came out of him with difficulty.

Clara’s brow furrowed slightly, but before she could speak, he cut her off.

“Let me finish.” Rhys leaned forward and grabbed her hand, his words tumbling out in a rush, afraid she’d lose her patience if she got angry.

“I’ll go to the command center. I’ll write the transfer application tomorrow.”

Rhys promised her.

“No more fieldwork, no bomb disposal, no arrests, no risking my life. I’ll just sit in an office, review files, and do analysis.”

He paused, watching Clara’s expression.

“If you insist I go work for my brother, or just stay at home doing nothing, I’ll probably fall apart even faster.”

Clara didn’t speak.

Forcing him to become a slick businessman or an idle rich man would indeed be a form of torture.

She wasn't trying to push him into a corner.

She was just terrified by the sight of all his injuries.

Terrified of getting a late-night call from the hospital with a critical condition notice, terrified that Felix would have to face the pain of losing his father.

“The command center,” Clara repeated the words.

“Yeah,” Rhys nodded. “It’s right in the Police Department headquarters. Aside from occasional overtime for major cases, it’s not dangerous.”

It sounded like a reasonably respectable compromise.

Clara asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Rhys’s voice was resolute.

In truth, the moment he saw Felix in the hospital, he knew he had no other choice.

With someone to care for, he had a weakness, and with that came fear.

A man who had begun to fear death was no longer suited for the front lines.

“Fine.” Clara relented. She pulled her hand from his grasp and leaned back against the sofa. “As long as you’re not trying to get yourself killed, do what you want.”

Hearing this, the knot of tension in Rhys’s chest loosened, and he finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

But he didn’t move, his gaze still fixed intently on Clara.

“What about you?” he asked tentatively.

Clara glanced up. “What about me?”

He touched his chest. The dull ache was still there, his breathing a little heavy. But right now, that pain seemed insignificant.

He sat in the living room for a while, his eyes falling on the pill organizer on the coffee table. Clara had sorted his medication for him—morning, noon, and night, each dose clearly separated.

Such a small, mundane act brought him an immense sense of peace.

As he was about to head to his room, he passed the guest bedroom door and couldn't resist stopping. He pressed his ear against the wood paneling, listening.

He couldn’t hear a thing.

The soundproofing in this apartment was too good.

When it was being renovated, he had specifically requested extra insulation so that his late-night shifts and early-morning departures wouldn’t disturb her sleep.

He never imagined it would one day be used to keep him out.

Rhys shook his head with a bitter smile, though he didn't feel particularly disappointed.

Compared to all those nights when he didn't know where tomorrow would find him, compared to the endless nights spent watching from his car in Heron Bay, they were now separated by just a single door, a few steps apart.

Being able to breathe under the same roof was enough.

For the first time since Clara had left, he fell asleep in his bed at Riverside Court.

There were no nightmares, and he didn't wake up in a panic.