The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 510

That familiar tickle flared deep in his chest. He forced it back down with a sharp intake of breath.

Not now.

But when was the right "now"? He didn't know.

Maybe after the medical evaluation, when they had a concrete surgical plan and he had some certainty he could walk beside her a little longer.

Or maybe that day would never come.

At four in the afternoon, Rhys pulled himself together and knocked on the master bedroom door.

"Clara, Shawn booked the place for five. Should we start getting ready?"

There was no response from inside. He stood frozen, not daring to retreat, but too afraid to enter.

About ten minutes later, the door opened.

Clara had already changed. Her long hair was tied back effortlessly, her makeup clean and understated. Her only jewelry was a pair of elegant pearl earrings.

Stunning, yet undeniably distant.

Rhys's gaze lingered on her face for a moment.

She looked right back at him.

Honestly, her anger had largely dissipated throughout the afternoon.

She didn't want to throw a temper tantrum, and she wasn't the type to cause a scene over trivial things.

Truth be told, she wasn't even fully angry at Rhys.

She was mostly angry at herself.

She was mad at herself because she knew exactly how this man's mind worked—how different it was from a normal person's. She had already deduced exactly why he was refusing to propose based on what Noah and Daniel had said. Yet, she had still foolishly allowed herself to hope.

To hope that this time, he would be different.

She had hoped that when she handed him the perfect opportunity, he would seize it and simply ask, *Should we get married again?*

Instead, he had thought about it in total seriousness and told her, *No plans.*

She felt helpless, but her heart ached for him all the same.

She had spent the last few hours battling herself.

One side reasoned that it didn't matter—she could just be the one to propose.

The other side argued that it absolutely did matter. If she had to make even this decision for him, it meant his fundamental flaws hadn't changed at all.

The mental tug-of-war ended in a stalemate, leaving her exhausted and bruised.

Clara let out a breath.

They dropped Felix off at Oakridge Avenue, where Clara's mom scooped him up at the door.

Before leaving, Felix pressed his hands against the car window, patted the glass twice, and winked at Rhys. His mouth opened and closed silently.

Rhys read his lips.

*Good luck.*

A four-year-old was cheering him on, seemingly entirely aware of the gauntlet he was about to face.

The moment Felix's little red coat disappeared behind the doors of the Oakridge Avenue building, the temperature inside the car plummeted.

The heater was still blasting the exact same warm air, but the chill was absolute.

It was a unilateral silence from Clara, and Rhys sat on pins and needles.

He cast anxious, sidelong glances at her.

Clara leaned against the seat, her face turned toward the window.

The streetlights had just flickered on, illuminating the hurried pedestrians bundled in heavy coats. Her gaze seemed fixed on them, but at the same time, it looked as though she wasn't seeing anything at all.

He occasionally tested the waters, making quiet remarks about the temperature in the car or the traffic, but Clara's replies never exceeded a few short words.

Rhys exhaled softly, not daring to speak another word.