The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 359

It was a heavy burden to bear, and not just physically.

He had stripped himself of every last shred of pride, laying his raw, bleeding heart at her feet just to beg her to stay.

Clara thought she must be insane.

Listening to his delirious ramblings, she hadn't immediately grabbed the ashtray to knock him out.

Her hands, hanging by her sides, clenched and unclenched.

He was a sick man, a fool whose brain was fried by fever.

There was no reasoning with a fool.

"Rhys, let go first," Clara could only try to coax him. "You have to go to the hospital right now. We can talk after you're better, okay?"

"No."

Rhys's refusal was swift and absolute.

"If I go to the hospital, you'll run. You'll go with Noah, back to Heron Bay, and never see me again."

He knew her too well.

She had a soft heart, but a ruthless one, too. The moment he let go, she would flee without a second thought.

"I won't run. I'll take you." Clara tried to pry his hands from her waist, patiently trying to trick him. "But I'm only taking you to the hospital. Once I hand you over to the doctors, I'm leaving. If you dare cause a scene on the way, I'll throw you out on the street."

Rhys only heard the first half of what she said.

His unfocused eyes brightened slightly when she said she'd take him, completely ignoring the rest of her threat.

"Okay. If you take me, I'll go."

Having secured her promise, the force of his grip finally loosened.

Clara, unable to vent the frustration building inside her, let out a sigh and hauled him up from the floor.

Rhys was a bit more lucid now and tried not to put his full weight on her.

Even so, by the time they made it to the underground parking garage, a fine layer of sweat had beaded on Clara's forehead.

Especially when they reached Sector C, Rhys seemed to grow even more uncomfortable, his lips pressed into a tight line, saying nothing.

Returning to this place… he had every right to be afraid.

After stuffing him into the passenger seat, Clara glanced at his clothes. His black T-shirt was already soaked through with a cold sweat. In the end, she couldn't stop herself from grabbing a spare blanket from the back seat and tossing it onto him.

"Cover up," she said coolly. "I don't need you getting worse and then blaming me for not taking care of a sick person."

Rhys looked down at the blanket and pulled it tighter around himself.

"I wouldn't blame you," he said in a low voice, leaning his head against the window. His face was turned towards her, his gaze glued to her. "No matter what, I'll never blame you again."

"Are you at Brighton City General Hospital right now?"

"Yes, I'm with my father." Mia sensed something was wrong and quickly asked, "What is it? Did something happen?"

"Rhys has a fever." Clara glanced at the man in the passenger seat, who, despite his weakness, still had a scorching gaze. "I'm bringing him over now. We should be at the emergency room in about ten minutes. Could you please come down to meet us?"

Mia was stunned.

She hadn't seen her nephew in ages. How did he end up with Clara? Was it because of the message she sent him?

Mia was filled with both regret and worry, afraid that Clara would think she was meddling and block her again.

"Okay, I'll be right there. How is he?"

"He's conscious, just burning up. You should probably have a doctor ready."

Rhys watched her, his eyes dimming.

She had arranged everything so clearly, already preparing the handover before they even reached the hospital, eager to palm him off on someone else.

When she hung up, he asked, "You really don't want to be with me that much?"

Clara nodded. "Whether it's in the past or now, we're not suited to be in the same space. Before, it was you who never had time. Now, it's me who doesn't want to."

"Your grandfather is gravely ill, and your aunt is worried about you. You should be where you belong, not clinging to me."