Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 18

**TITLE: Hands Trembled Before Goodbye — Ryan Ellis 18**

The late morning sun cast a warm glow over the sky as Adrian parked his car in front of Vivian’s apartment complex. He pressed the horn once, a sharp yet muted sound that wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. Just moments later, the door swung open, and Vivian stepped out, a vision in a fitted sundress that hugged her curves perfectly. A light scarf was draped casually around her neck, and oversized sunglasses obscured half her face, adding an air of mystery. She carried a petite handbag, clearly too small to hold more than her phone and a tube of lipstick.

As she slid into the passenger seat, a faint smile flickered across her lips.

“You came,” she said softly, her voice a mixture of relief and surprise.

“I said I would try,” Adrian replied, his tone steady as he shifted the car into gear. His gaze flickered to her for a brief moment before returning to the road ahead. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit light-headed,” she confessed, her hand instinctively brushing across her stomach. “But at least I don’t feel like throwing up anymore.”

“Good,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, a gesture that betrayed his own anxiety. “Let’s just get this done quietly. The sooner we know what’s wrong, the better.”

The drive to the hospital was suffused with tension, punctuated by short exchanges that felt inadequate against the weight of their unspoken fears. Adrian’s phone buzzed twice with business notifications, and each time, Vivian shot him a quick, sharp glance. He ignored her stare, his focus locked on the road, but inside, he was restless.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area buzzed with its familiar rhythm. Nurses hurried past, patients sat in various states of weariness, and the soft hum of hospital announcements floated through the air like a constant reminder of the gravity of their situation. Adrian kept his head down, dark shades shielding his eyes from recognition.

Vivian leaned in closer, her voice a whisper.

“You look like a celebrity sneaking in for plastic surgery.”

“This isn’t a game, Vivian,” he hissed, his voice low and urgent. “Let’s just get this over with.”

After a brief check-in, the receptionist directed them toward the gynecology section, and soon they found themselves seated in the waiting lounge. Vivian crossed her legs, her foot tapping restlessly against the floor, while Adrian buried himself in his emails, trying to distract himself from the gnawing anxiety that was settling in his gut.

When Vivian’s name was finally called, Adrian stood and guided her inside. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a calm demeanor, greeted them. She began asking a series of questions, her pen moving swiftly across the notepad as she took notes. After a few moments, she instructed Vivian to undergo some preliminary tests.

It was then that Adrian felt the need to excuse himself.

“I’ll wait outside. I need to make a call anyway,” he said, attempting to sound casual.

Vivian nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips as if his presence provided her with some comfort, though her nervousness was evident in the way her polished nails tapped against the arm of the chair.

Once outside, Adrian walked toward a quiet corner of the hospital courtyard, where the signal was stronger. He pulled out his phone, dialing one of his managers to discuss logistics for the automobile contract. His voice was low, clipped, and professional, a façade that masked the turmoil brewing inside him.

But halfway through the call, a familiar voice interrupted him.

“Adrian?”

He froze, the sound sending a jolt of panic through him. Slowly turning, he spotted Claire, his sister-in-law, standing just a few feet away, a small paper bag from the hospital pharmacy clutched in her hand. Her brows lifted in surprise, but her lips quickly curled into a polite smile.

“Claire,” Adrian said, forcing his voice to remain even as he pocketed his phone. “What a surprise.”

“More like what are you doing here?” she replied, tilting her head slightly, her tone playful yet laced with suspicion.

Adrian chuckled lightly, sliding his hands into his pockets to hide the flicker of panic that threatened to surface.

“Company cars. One of the drivers brought me a report yesterday about some issues. I asked the automobile to come here for a checkup on his wife, so I thought I would meet him halfway.”

Claire raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across her features.

“At the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Adrian replied smoothly, forcing a casual tone. “We had to cross-check some documents. It was convenient for him. Nothing serious.”

For a long moment, Claire scrutinized him, as if weighing the validity of his explanation. She knew more than he realized; after all, she had been the one encouraging Vivian’s reckless confidence, whispering words of encouragement whenever doubt crept into Vivian’s mind about their affair. Yet, here she stood, wearing innocence like a well-crafted mask.

“Well?” Adrian asked, his heart racing.

“The doctor said I will need to wait for the test results,” she whispered, her voice tinged with anxiety. “She’ll call me back in a couple of days, or probably tomorrow.”

“Good,” he muttered, trying to sound calm. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Vivian leaned in closer, the scent of her perfume enveloping him like a warm embrace.

“Thank you for coming with me. You don’t know how much it means.”

Adrian glanced around nervously, acutely aware of every passerby, every potential eye that could recognize him. He lowered his voice, urgency creeping into his tone.

“Let’s get you home before someone recognizes me.”

She pouted slightly but followed him obediently toward the exit, sensing his unease.

Outside, Adrian’s gaze swept across the courtyard, and there, in the distance, he spotted Claire again, her back turned as she animatedly spoke on the phone. Panic surged within him, and he quickly turned Vivian toward the car, urging her to move faster.

Vivian noticed the urgency in his steps, concern flashing across her face.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Adrian replied curtly, his tone clipped. “Just… nothing.”

As he drove away, his grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white against the dark leather. He replayed Claire’s words in his mind, her playful suspicion and sly looks echoing ominously. He didn’t like it—not one bit.

Vivian, blissfully unaware, hummed softly beside him, engrossed in her phone. But Adrian’s thoughts were anything but calm. He told himself that Claire hadn’t seen them together, but how long could he maintain this delicate balance without it all crashing down around him?