The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 424

"Let's go wash up."

Felix struggled under his arm, his legs kicking. "Put me down! I can walk myself!"

"I'll put you down for another two points," Rhys bargained.

"No way! You're cheating!"

They bickered their way into the bathroom.

Dinner was quiet. Clara kept her head down, refusing to look up.

Rhys didn't try to force a conversation either. He sensed that Clara was intentionally creating distance, so he kept his gaze to himself as well.

After the meal, Rhys naturally cleared the plates and took them to the kitchen to wash.

Clara sat with Felix, reading a book.

That long-lost sense of a normal life quietly filled the room on that winter night.

In the middle of the night, Clara tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

A faint noise came from the living room. After lying in the darkness for a moment, she put on a robe and opened her door.

The wall sconce in the entryway was on. Rhys was already in his coat, speaking quietly on the phone.

"...I know. I'm on my way."

A knot tightened in Clara's stomach.

This scene—a hurried departure after an urgent late-night call—had happened far too many times during their marriage.

Bad memories began to pull her down again.

Hearing the door open, Rhys ended the call and straightened up to look at her. In the dim light, his features seemed even colder and sharper.

"Did I wake you?" he asked in a low voice.

"I wasn't asleep." Clara took a couple of steps forward. "Are you... going out?"

Rhys nodded, not hiding anything. "Aunt Mia just called. My grandfather's in the ICU. It doesn't look good. She asked me to come right away."

Clara was taken aback.

She had no fondness for the Huntington family. They were calculating, cold, and had turned Rhys into the unfeeling man he used to be.

"Oh," Felix said, picking up his fork and starting his breakfast. "Is Daddy having a hard day today?"

A very hard day.

Clara looked out at the gray sky. He'd had an episode in the bathroom just yesterday afternoon, and now he'd pulled an all-nighter. She wondered if he could handle it.

Nine o'clock.

Sitting on the sofa, Clara held her phone and opened the block list on her messaging app.

The familiar profile picture sat quietly at the bottom.

After a long pause, she finally tapped the profile and selected "Unblock."

The chat window reappeared in her message list.

All their past conversations had been deleted long ago, leaving only a blank screen.

Clara typed a few words, then deleted them. She did this over and over, finally sending only the simplest of questions:

[How's your grandfather?]