Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 14

**Hands Trembled Before Goodbye — Ryan Ellis 14**

Vivian struggled with the stubborn lock of her front door, her keys jingling in her hand like a tiny bell urging her onward. After a few frustrating attempts, she finally managed to turn the key with a decisive twist, and the door creaked open. Stepping inside, she felt the familiar comfort of her home wash over her. The weight of two oversized shopping bags hung heavily from her arms, the contents shifting as she nudged the door closed with her hip. She let out a sigh of relief as she dropped the bags onto the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway like a small triumph.

Just as she began to unwind, her phone buzzed insistently from her pocket, breaking the moment of peace.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, annoyance creeping into her voice as she fished her phone out. The screen lit up, displaying *Fiona* in bright letters. With a resigned groan, she swiped to answer and pressed the device to her ear, making her way toward the kitchen, the scent of home-cooked meals lingering in the air.

“Hey girl, you didn’t even let me get home,” Vivian said, a half-smile creeping onto her lips as she anticipated her best friend’s familiar banter.

“What’s up? Where have you been? And why aren’t you in school today, huh?” Fiona’s voice crackled through the speaker, sharp and teasing, the background noise filled with the lively chatter of students and the occasional shuffle of footsteps, a stark contrast to Vivian’s quiet home.

Vivian yanked open the refrigerator, the cool air spilling out as she reached for a chilled bottle of water. She twisted the cap off with a satisfying pop and leaned against the counter, savoring the moment.

“I went shopping,” she replied nonchalantly, trying to sound casual.

“Shopping? For what? We had a term paper due today, you know that!” Fiona’s disbelief was palpable, and Vivian rolled her eyes dramatically, fully aware that her friend couldn’t see her exasperation.

“Fuck that! I needed to get some very important stuff,” she declared, tilting her head back to gulp down the refreshing water. The liquid rushed down her throat, a cool relief that felt almost urgent, as if she hadn’t had a sip all day.

“You and your ‘important stuff,'” Fiona muttered, her tone dripping with mock sarcasm.

“Stop by the house after lectures,” Vivian said, brushing off the jab with a wave of her hand. “I want you to see what I bought.”

They exchanged playful jabs for a few more minutes, Vivian skillfully dodging Fiona’s lectures while her friend continued to tease her about her questionable priorities. Finally, with a satisfied grin, Vivian hung up and tossed her phone onto the counter, feeling a rush of excitement as her eyes flicked back to the bags by the door. A secret thrill flickered in her chest, the anticipation of what lay inside them making her heart race.

***

In a cozy bedroom, a loving couple lay sprawled across their bed, their positions a delightful chaos. Their heads rested where their feet were meant to be, and their feet dangled off the edge of the mattress, where pillows should have been. It was the weekend, a precious stretch of time without obligations, just the two of them and the peaceful silence of their home. Hazel, their daughter, was away on a short holiday at Grandma’s, leaving them with a rare opportunity for uninterrupted togetherness.

Adrian lounged lazily, scrolling through his phone, while Amelia sat upright beside him, her tablet in hand, meticulously reading out their week’s expenses.

“Alright,” she began, her brow furrowed in concentration as her eyes scanned the glowing screen. “Hazel’s school uniforms… we need a fresh set. That’s one. Then there’s the levy for her excursion coming up next month, the PTA contribution, and the after-school music lessons she begged me to register her for.”

Adrian hummed in acknowledgment, still focused on his phone, his thumb gliding effortlessly across the screen.

“That’s not all,” Amelia continued, her voice steady but laced with the weight of responsibility. “The kitchen needs a refill—groceries, fruits, meat, and Hazel’s favorite snacks. Then there are the utilities: water, electricity, gas. Oh, and the house help’s pay; she came to me yesterday reminding me.”

“Mm,” Adrian finally responded, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips. “Quite overwhelming.”

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