The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 454

The wind lifted the loose strands of hair around Clara's face, and she felt a chill seep through her clothes. She couldn't argue with Simon's words.

"Clara, you've fallen in love with him all over again."

Silence hung on the balcony for a long time.

Clara tapped her fingers lightly on the railing.

How could she not be aware of the change in her own heart?

The feelings she had tried so hard to suppress had always been there, and now they were sprouting again, uncontrollably.

"Yes," Clara admitted, her gaze dropping. "Loving him... it feels like an instinct."

The words came out tinged with bitterness.

Love was supposed to be sweet, something that warmed you just by thinking about it.

But between her and Rhys, it was stained with blood, tears, and scars.

She had run for four years, tried for four years to uproot this man from her life. She built a new circle of friends, worked hard to be a single mother who didn't need anyone.

But in the end, the empty space in her heart could only be filled by Rhys.

Simon saw the deep, unresolved pain in her eyes and frowned slightly.

He had suspected this was the answer all along.

From the night of the typhoon when Clara had let him stay, Simon knew. Rhys had won this years-long tug-of-war.

Or perhaps, neither of them had ever been able to win against their feelings for each other.

Love is an irrational thing. It doesn't care about logic or circumstances; it only cares about who occupies that certain place in your heart.

This was a necessary pain they had to endure for the sake of long-term stability.

"I'm not torturing him, and I'm not torturing myself," Clara said, her gaze fixed on Rhys's back. "I'm waiting for him to truly understand that he doesn't need to sacrifice himself to keep me."

She was waiting for him to let go of his guilt and burdens, for him to relax completely around her. She was waiting for him to find real belonging in an ordinary life, and joy in watching Felix grow up.

Only then could she put her hand in his without reservation and walk with him through the rest of their lives.

Watching her, the worry on Simon's face slowly faded.

He reached out and playfully messed up her hair. "Good, as long as you've thought it through," he said, half-joking, half-serious. "If he ever makes you cry again, you won't have to lift a finger. I'll take care of him myself."

Clara laughed. "You? You couldn't even take him on with one hand."

Simon retorted, "Don't be so sure. His lungs are shot now. I'm faster."