The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 393

Clara looked at the photo for a few seconds before tearing her gaze away and turning to Rhys. "The apartment on Oakridge Avenue is too small. My parents want to move back in, so there's no room for you," she began. Rhys's hands, hanging by his sides, quietly clenched into fists. "So you want me to live here?" Clara nodded. "The environment here is good. It has an elevator, underfloor heating, it's close to the hospital, and shopping is convenient. It's suitable for you." She had arranged everything perfectly, considering every detail. In four years, she had learned to handle any mess, no longer the little girl who would cry and need him to comfort her whenever something went wrong.

Rhys's chest rose and fell, his eyelid twitching. "What about you and Felix?" As he asked the question, he noticed his hands were trembling violently. She had settled him, but what about her? Noah might be leaving, but she still had her job in Heron Bay, her friends, and the new life she had built from scratch. She had taken back the Oakridge Avenue apartment, moved her parents in, and now she was setting him up at Riverside Court. Was she just settling everyone's affairs before taking their son and returning to Heron Bay? Was she leaving him alone in this shell filled with memories of the past, to continue clinging to futile hopes?

Clara was silent for a moment. The brief pause felt like an eternity to Rhys, making him regret asking the question. "Felix and I will live here too," Clara said, looking at him, her expression still calm. Rhys looked up, the light in his eyes flickering between disbelief and hope. He didn't dare ask another word.

Clara continued, "Oakridge Avenue has poor soundproofing. Felix is at an age where he's constantly running around, and the neighbors will complain. And he doesn't have enough space to lay out his LEGOs." "He also said he wants to keep an eye on you, to evaluate you. If you think it's inconvenient, if you're not willing, then we can…" "I'm willing!" Rhys practically shouted. After shouting, he felt his reaction was too intense, that it might have scared her or earned her disgust. He immediately lowered his head, softened his voice, and repeated, his tone reverent, "I'm willing."

Clara was a little speechless. It's not like he was at the altar. Why was he shouting, 'I'm willing'? She decided to ignore him and took out her phone to contact a cleaning service.

Half an hour later, two cleaners arrived with their equipment. The Riverside Court apartment had truly been vacant for too long. A thick layer of dust covered the cloths, and the slightest movement sent clouds of it into the air. Considering Rhys's current lung condition, Clara pushed him out into the hallway and firmly refused to let him back inside. She stood with him in the corridor, looking down at the bare tree branches below.

One by one, the dust cloths were removed, rolled up, and piled on the balcony. Once the furniture had been wiped down with damp cloths and the dust had settled, Rhys asked a cleaner for a mask and went inside to help. His eyes never left Clara's back. When she went to the kitchen to check the pipes, his peripheral vision followed her. When she went to the bedroom to open the windows for ventilation, his gaze rested on the bedroom doorway. He wasn't sure what she was thinking.

The cleaners worked quickly, wiping tables, mopping floors, and cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms. The furniture, hidden for years, revealed its original appearance. A vase was set upright, clean and waiting for fresh peonies to be placed inside someday. The house gradually began to feel lived-in as the underfloor heating warmed up.

When the cleaning was mostly done, Clara checked the time. "You stay here," she said, grabbing her bag. "I'm going to pick up Felix and get our luggage." Rhys took a step forward. "I'll go with you." "What for?" Clara turned back. "Are you going to carry the luggage? Or are you going to let my parents lecture you?"