Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 895

She rolled the wheelchair in front of him, but he walked right past it without a glance.

Clara frowned, took a slow breath, and fell in step behind him. He was still hurt—determined as he was, he couldn’t get far before he had to stop and get his breath back.

She waited quietly at his back. Aiden was up front driving, Dylan in the back seat. Clara slid in next to Dylan, and the air in the car felt thick, heavy with things left unsaid.

Aiden kept his eyes on the road. Dylan had his eyes closed. Clara didn’t bother breaking the silence.

They drove like that until the car stopped in front of the civil affairs office. Clara got out first, waiting outside for Dylan.

He stayed in the car for a moment, then slowly opened his eyes and stared at her through the open window. He’d looked at her like that before, but this time, there was something final in his gaze—like he was saying goodbye.

Dylan always did things his own way, always to the extreme. Clara couldn’t shake the feeling that if they really went through with this divorce, she might never see him again.

She tore her eyes away and said quietly, “Do you need help getting out?”

He lowered his lashes, fingers resting lightly on the door handle. “No.”

His voice was weak and rough, but when he finally stood up on the pavement, he looked as calm as ever.

Clara walked ahead, stopping every so often to wait for him to catch up. He moved so slowly, wounded and stubborn, that the short walk to the entrance felt endless.

A sharp, uncomfortable ache pressed against Clara’s chest. She didn’t dare look at him, forcing herself to keep her emotions in check.

Inside, the staff couldn’t hide their surprise when they saw them.

It was the same woman who’d helped them get married—Clara had protested back then that she was being forced, but the clerk had been too busy mopping sweat from her brow to listen. That day had left a lasting impression.

No one expected these two would come back to get divorced.

The clerk glanced instinctively at Dylan.

He looked pale, coughed a few times into his hand, but said nothing.

Clara walked straight over to the divorce window and handed over their paperwork. A couple of staff members who recognized Dylan exchanged uneasy glances. He just stood there, not moving, like he’d been rooted to the spot.

For some reason, the atmosphere in the office felt a little sad.

Clara forced a smile. “We get the divorce certificate here, right?”

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