The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 43

Dinner at the Huntington estate began promptly at seven.

Clara sat in the second seat to Old Mr. Huntington's right, next to Rhys's empty chair. Opposite her were Liam and his wife, Wendy Murray.

Wendy was the standard wealthy daughter-in-law: gentle appearance, soft-spoken. Her marriage to Liam was a business alliance, and they treated each other with mutual respect. To outsiders, they seemed like a perfect match. But Clara caught the fleeting look of adoration in Wendy's eyes when she looked at Liam.

She hid her love carefully. Unlike Clara, whose love had been blatant and known to everyone, and had ended in a mess, leaving her with nothing but embarrassment.

The table was full of dishes and a soup, all light, healthy fare. Old Mr. Huntington didn't pick up his fork, so no one else dared to eat.

He took a sip of tea and glanced indifferently at Clara. "Rhys said your stomach isn't well. I've told Jenny to make stomach-friendly meals for the next few days. Avoid spicy foods."

Clara responded, "Thank you, Grandfather."

Mia ladled a bowl of fish chowder for her. "Clara, you need to eat more. You know Rhys's job; when holidays get busy, he disappears. He can't always look after you, so just treat this place as your own home."

"I will, thank you, Auntie." She took the bowl, responding politely.

Mason chimed in, "I saw the news a couple of days ago. Saving someone in the snowstorm... the department commended him, right?"

Clara gripped her spoon tighter. "It was his duty."

After dinner, Clara used not feeling well as an excuse to retreat to her room. Lying in bed, the composure she had maintained all day shattered in the darkness. The pain in her stomach resurfaced. She curled into a ball, burying her face in the pillow.

At 1:00 AM, a black SUV pulled into the Huntington garage. Rhys, exhausted, stepped out.

End-of-year summaries, endless meetings, and accident reports left him almost no time to breathe. He walked softly down the hallway and pushed open the door to his room.

The lights were off. By the moonlight, Rhys saw a small lump on the bed. He walked over and sat on the edge. Clara was sleeping on her side, one arm outside the quilt, breathing deeply.

Rhys watched her for a moment, then took her hand to tuck it under the covers. But as he touched it, something felt wrong.