The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 463

When the play ended, the theater lights blazed back to life.

Clara blinked, her gaze shifting from the stage down to their intertwined hands.

He wasn't holding on too tightly; the pressure was just right.

He was looking at her, too.

People around them were starting to stand up, some murmuring about the plot, others searching for their phones. The buzz of voices created a small, isolated island around the two of them.

"Let's go."

Without pulling her hand away, Clara stood up, holding the bouquet of lisianthus.

A smile flickered in Rhys's eyes as he led her through the departing crowd.

The snow had stopped by the time they left the theater, leaving the ground a slushy mess.

Neither of them spoke on the way back.

Rhys would occasionally glance at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes lingering for a second before dutifully returning to the road ahead.

Back at Riverside Court, the apartment felt unusually quiet without the little whirlwind of a boy running around.

Clara slipped off her shoes and hung her scarf by the door. As she turned, she found Rhys standing right behind her.

He was so close it felt as if she had walked straight into his arms.

Clara tilted her head up.

The entryway's motion-sensor light cast a warm, yellow glow. Rhys's eyes were lowered, the soft light reflecting in his pupils as his gaze traveled from her eyes down to her lips, and stopped.

"I'll go find a vase for the flowers."

She tried to step around him toward the living room, but Rhys shifted half a step, blocking her path.

He casually hung his coat on the nearby rack, then turned back and looked at her intently.

"Clara," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Did you like the play today?"

Clara's throat felt a little tight. "It was good."

"And... did I pass today's test?"

So close, she could see her own reflection in his dark eyes.

She bit her lip, her breathing quickening slightly.

Rhys smiled.

Without waiting for her answer, he tilted his head and pressed his warm lips against hers.

He traced the line of her mouth, his lips moving gently, repeatedly.

"We saw the play and came back."

"That's it?"

Clara glanced at Rhys. "That's it."

The other end of the line went silent for a second before a cry of heartfelt disappointment erupted.

"That man has no game! I gave him the perfect opportunity to be alone with you, and for what!"

Clara was mortified.

Between the quiet entryway and the phone's loud speaker, the phrase "That man has no game!" carried clearly to Rhys's ears.

A vein pulsed in Rhys's temple.

Unbelievable.

He said nothing, but with a dark expression, he picked up the lisianthus bouquet, strode into the living room to grab a vase, and marched to the kitchen sink.

He twisted the faucet handle, and water gushed out at full blast.

Listening to the childish protest from the other room, Clara couldn't help but twitch her lips.

Ignoring his temper tantrum, she added, "Do you guys have plans tomorrow morning? We have to go to the hospital for his check-up first thing. We can probably pick Felix up around ten. If you're busy, I can just bring him with us."