The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 352

"Clara," Noah said suddenly.

Clara looked up. "What is it?"

"What if..." Noah chose his words carefully. "What if he's not just coming home?"

Not just coming home, but coming to see her.

Clara was silent for a moment.

Though Noah hadn't said it aloud, the implication hung in the air between them.

"It's a free country. I can't stop him from going wherever he pleases."

"Can't stop him, or don't want to stop him?"

The thought flashed through Noah's mind, but he didn't ask.

He lowered his eyes. "Yes, you're right."

Just as he couldn't stop her from falling in love with that traffic cop from off-campus all those years ago, he couldn't stop that SWAT officer, now covered in scars, from chasing after her.

All he could do was hold his ground.

Noah asked, "Are we still going to the garden party tomorrow night?"

"Yes."

He had asked so cautiously, but her answer came too quickly.

Noah felt a slight pang in his heart, but he forced his usual gentle smile back onto his face. "Alright, I'll pick you up after work tomorrow then."

By the end of the meal, neither of them had touched the plate of meatballs again.

As they were paying the bill, the waiter politely asked if they wanted to take anything to go. Clara glanced at the meatballs, congealed with cold grease, and told the waiter, "Not that one."

It was cold. The flavor had changed.

Standing to the side, Noah's gaze flickered at her words.

Neither of them spoke on the way back.

When they arrived at the hotel, he walked her through the lobby and all the way to the elevators. The overhead lights stretched their shadows long across the floor, but they never overlapped.

"Thank you for taking me back," Clara said politely.

Noah stood a step away from her, not embracing her as he had on the rooftop.

As the elevator ascended, Clara felt a sudden sense of suffocation in the small, enclosed space.

Her fingers jabbed at the control panel.

The elevator stopped on the third floor. The moment the doors opened a crack, she squeezed through.

Both elevators were going up. Clara pushed open the door to the stairwell. The corridor was empty and silent, the motion-activated lights flickering on one by one at the sound of her footsteps.

Two floors. Just a few dozen steps.

She ran quickly in her high heels, her breath coming in short gasps by the time she reached the ground floor.

Standing at the stairwell entrance, she looked anxiously toward the elevators.

Empty.

Noah was already gone.

Clara took a moment to catch her breath, then sat down on a nearby step.

In that instant, she felt a hollowness in her chest, but it was coupled with a strange sense of relief.