The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 494

In the afternoon, Alex and Simon arrived, ringing the doorbell with their arms full of bags.

The door opened, and Simon strode in first, announcing loudly as he changed his shoes, “I hereby declare the official arrival of the year’s best dinner-crasher!”

Before he even finished speaking, his nose was already twitching.

Rhys and Clara's dad were bustling in the kitchen.

Clara's dad, wearing an apron, was preparing ingredients while Rhys stood beside him as his sous-chef, the two of them working in surprising harmony.

Simon dropped the bags, peeked into the kitchen, and said, “Captain Huntington, be careful with that fish you're steaming. I won’t eat it if it’s overcooked.” Chewing on a piece of candy he’d swiped from the table, Simon leaned against the kitchen doorframe, shamelessly offering his critique.

Rhys, wiping down the counter with a cloth, shot back without turning his head, “If you’re worried it’ll be tough, just stuff your mouth with savory fritters. That should keep you quiet.”

“…”

Simon huffed, thinking to himself how sharp-tongued Rhys had become. He couldn't help but remember the man who used to be as silent as a wooden post.

Hearing the commotion, Felix bolted out of his room and threw himself at them.

“Daddy Simon! Mr. Thorne! You’re here!”

Alex hadn’t seen Felix in a while and had missed him dearly. He scooped him up into the air for a hug, looking him over from head to toe. “Look at you, Jaxon, you’ve gotten heavier. Has your dad been feeding you nothing but meat broth?”

“No way!” Felix patted his little belly defensively. “This is muscle! Daddy said so!”

Simon scoffed. “And you actually believe what your dad says.”

He pulled a gift box from a bag and handed it over. “From your Mr. Thorne.”

Felix’s eyes lit up. He wiggled his way to the floor, hugged the box, and ran toward his room, his voice trailing off as he shouted, “Thank you, Daddy Simon! Thank you, Mr. Thorne!”

Clara shook her head with a smile.

Simon’s gaze followed Felix, then roamed around the room.

The paper cuttings, the couplets, the candy and nuts on the coffee table, Felix’s laughter as he unwrapped his gift in his room, and Clara.

On their first New Year's Eve in Heron Bay, Clara had held a less-than-100-day-old Felix, staring blankly at the fireworks over the sea. Simon finally couldn't take it anymore and tapped her on the shoulder. Only then did she snap out of it and smile at him.

He had remembered that smile for four years.

This New Year's Eve, she was smiling again, but it was a different kind of smile.

Rhys couldn't drink alcohol, so he and Felix had corn juice. He raised his cup and clinked glasses with everyone. While their attention was on the TV special, he fumbled for Clara’s left hand, which was resting on her lap.

Clara’s eyes remained fixed ahead as she subtly brushed her thumb over the back of his hand.

He couldn't remember how he got through the rest of the meal.

All he knew was that her hand was in his, warm and soft. When he squeezed it too tightly, she would pinch him, and he would dutifully loosen his grip.

With their hands secretly clasped under the table, their child eating messily across from them, and his in-laws sitting right there, Rhys felt like he was twenty-five again.

Back when they were dating, every time he had dinner at Clara’s house, he would sit at the table, answering her father’s questions with a straight face, while under the table, Clara’s foot would be tapping his pant leg or tickling his knee.

He never let it show, but he was always nervous, terrified her father would notice.

He was still nervous now.

Ten years.

Some things hadn't changed at all.