The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 9

Rhys looked at her through the rearview mirror, released the steering wheel, and reached up to rub his brow, but stopped halfway.

"Just because I didn't answer your question?"

Clara shook her head, too lazy to repeat the arguments they'd had over and over.

She was tired of asking, tired of it all.

During those nights of tossing and turning, she had even obsessively wondered if he really didn't love her anymore, to the point where he was too stingy to even fabricate a lie.

"Margot is back," Rhys said. "She's sick, that's why she contacted me."

The explanation came too late, and it was too casual.

Arriving two months late, it seemed like a clumsy cover-up.

"If you want to see her, I can arrange it," he added.

Clara refused bluntly.

"Captain Huntington, do you have some misunderstanding about your wife? Am I the type of dutiful wife who accepts the mistress happily, discuss her illness, and come back to play the part of the perfect spouse?"

"She isn't my mistress," Rhys interrupted her, his brow furrowed tight, his tone heavier.

Clara's heart went a few degrees colder.

He couldn't tolerate anyone saying a single bad thing about Margot.

"Then what is she?" Clara pressed. "A sister who needs you to text her in the middle of the night and make secret phone calls?"

Rhys sighed. "I was wrong."

"Of course you were wrong," Clara said. "You think you don't have to say anything, that as long as you come home and we sleep together, everything is fine, right?"

"I didn't think that."

"Then what did you think?"

He went silent again.

His thin lips pressed, and he restarted the car.

This was Rhys.

In his life credo, actions always spoke louder than words. If he could solve it with action, he would never use his mouth.

But Clara desperately needed that truth.

It was completely pointless.

Back home, Rhys bent down as usual to take her slippers from the shoe cabinet and place them at her feet.

This was a habit he had maintained for two years.

Clara kicked them aside and walked barefoot toward the guest bedroom.

As soon as her hand touched the doorknob, Rhys behind her pressed her against the door, and an overwhelming kiss rained down.

It was much gentler than usual.

Clara turned her head to dodge, so he kissed her ear, her jaw.

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