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.

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