Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 105

EVENING had already settled when Charles’ car rolled to a stop in front of Amelia’s house.

The lights were on inside, warm and calm.

He sat behind the steering wheel for a moment, jaw tight, watching the curtains shift slightly from the breeze of an open window. No sign of urgency. No sign of a woman waiting for him.

‘She didn’t even tell me she was back.’

That thought burned again.

He stepped out of the car and shut the door a little harder than necessary. The sound echoed in the quiet street.

By the time he reached her door, his anger had rearranged itself into something controlled, something presentable. He straightened his jacket and knocked.

Then he heard footsteps approaching and soon, the door opened.

Amelia stood there, dressed simply in a soft home outfit, her hair loosely tied back. No rush. No surprise. No guilt. Just calm eyes meeting his.

“Charles,” she said evenly.

Not “Hi.” Not “I was meaning to call.” Just his name.

He forced a half-smile.

“You are back.”

“Yes.”

Silence lingered between them.

“You didn’t tell me,” he added.

She tilted her head slightly.

“Tell you what?”

“That you returned.”

“Oh.” She paused. “I didn’t think it was necessary.”

The words hit him harder than he expected.

“Not necessary?” He let out a short laugh. “We were talking before you left. I assumed—”

“You assumed I would report back?” she asked gently.

There was no hostility in her voice. And somehow that made it worse.

“I assumed,” he corrected, stepping inside as she moved aside to let him in, “that you would at least let me know you arrived safely. That was what you were supposed to do. Right?”

“I arrived safely,” she replied, closing the door behind him. “As you can see.”

Her tone was polite and detached.

He studied her face. Searching for softness, for the Amelia who would have rushed to explain, to soothe.

Instead, she walked toward the living room and sat down calmly.

He remained standing.

“So,” he began, “you have been busy.”

“I have children, Charles. I have businesses. I’m always busy.”

He inhaled slowly.

“I heard you stopped by Adrian’s.”

There it was. She didn’t flinch.

“Yes.”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you went in,” he pressed. “For tea.”

“Yes.”

Each answer landed flat and unapologetic.

Charles let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“You didn’t think that was something to mention?”

She looked at him carefully.

“Why would it be?”

“Because it is Adrian,” he snapped before he could soften it.

“And?” she asked.

He stared at her.

“And he is your ex-husband.”

“And he is still the father of my children.”

The simplicity of her response stunned him into silence.

She continued, voice steady.

“I went to pick up my boys, and he invited me in. I accepted. We spoke about school schedules and their upcoming activities. We had tea. That is all.”

“You expect me to just accept that?” he asked.

She frowned slightly.

“Accept what?”

“That you are just… casually sitting in his house like nothing happened.”

She folded her hands on her lap.

“Charles, my marriage ended. Not my responsibility as a mother.”

Her composure unnerved him.

“You used to despise even hearing his name,” he said quietly.

“I used to be very emotional,” she replied. “I think I have grown.”

The word lingered between them.

Grown.

As if she had outgrown something.

Or someone.

He shook his head.

“You compared me to him once.”

She raised a brow. “Did I?”

She watched him carefully.

“I shouldn’t have snapped the last time we spoke,” he continued. “I was stressed. I said things… stupid things.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“I was acting stupid,” he admitted with a faint smile. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Silence.

He moved closer still.

“You know how I get when I care too much.”

There it was. That sweetness. That vulnerability he used like currency.

“I don’t like the idea of losing you,” he murmured.

She held his gaze. Seriously?

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Truly.”

The words were smooth. Practiced as always. And for a moment, she said nothing.

Then she gave a small nod.

“Alright.”

Relief flooded his chest instantly.

Alright.

Even though it came out vague, it was enough for him.

He smiled wider now, stepping into her space as if everything had reset.

“Good. I hate it when we fight.”

“We weren’t fighting,” she said calmly.

He ignored that.

“Come on,” he said lightly. “Let’s not waste the evening like this. Go get dressed. Get your bag. Let’s go out. Dinner. Somewhere nice.”

She shook her head gently. Exactly. That was only what he knew. He didn't even ask of her kids.

“No.”

The smile faltered. “No?”

“I’m staying in tonight.”

“We can be back early.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

He chuckled softly. “You are still upset.”

“I’m not.”

“Then come.”

She stood, smoothing her outfit slightly.

“I said no, Charles.”

Her tone wasn’t angry. It was just final.