Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 23

**TITLE: Hands Trembled Before Goodbye — Ryan Ellis 23**

The night enveloped Amelia’s room in a serene stillness, punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic whir of the ceiling fan lazily swirling above her. She stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting her silk bonnet over her hair, smoothing it down with meticulous attention. In the corner of the room, Hazel lay peacefully asleep, curled up on the bed, her gentle, steady breathing creating a soothing backdrop. Hazel had insisted on spending the night with her, and Amelia couldn’t help but feel a warmth in her heart at the sight.

As Amelia prepared to slip under the covers, her phone suddenly rang from the dresser, cutting through the quiet like a sudden gust of wind. The screen illuminated the dimness of the room, casting a soft glow. She walked over, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the name flashing on the screen.

Mom.

A smile crept onto her lips as she swiped to answer.

“Hello, Mommy,” she greeted, her voice a tender melody in the stillness.

“Amelia, my dear,” came Mrs. Harlow’s voice, imbued with warmth and that familiar note of pride that always made Amelia feel cherished. “Were you already asleep?”

“Not yet,” Amelia replied softly, casting a glance toward Hazel. “I was just about to.”

“Good, good,” her mother continued, the relief evident in her tone. “I thought I would check in. How is my son-in-law? Adrian must be treating you well; I can hear it in your voice. You sound happy, Amelia. You sound cared for.”

Amelia chuckled lightly as she perched on the edge of the bed, her heart swelling with affection.

“He is, Mommy. He takes wonderful care of both Hazel and me. You know how Adrian is.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Harlow responded, a small sigh of contentment escaping her lips. “You are truly blessed to have him. A husband like that is a rare find. I tell the women at church, not everyone is fortunate enough to discover a man who provides, protects, and creates a warm home. You’ve got it all, Amelia. And I thank God for that.”

Amelia let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming at her mother’s praise.

“You will make me blush, Mommy. Adrian isn’t perfect, but he is good to us. That’s what truly matters.”

“And Hazel? How is my granddaughter doing? She must be growing taller with each passing day. You know I miss her giggles echoing through this house.”

“She is doing just fine,” Amelia said, her gaze softening as she looked at Hazel’s sleeping figure. “Still brimming with energy. We went to the park today, and she played on the see-saw until I had to practically drag her away.”

Mrs. Harlow laughed lightly, but the sound was short-lived. A sigh escaped her, and her tone shifted, becoming laden with concern.

“Hmm. Unlike Hazel, some people seem to meander through life without growing into anything useful at all.”

Amelia felt her heart sink; she recognized the familiar path this conversation was taking.

“Mommy…”

“Yes, I’m talking about your sister,” Mrs. Harlow pressed on, her voice tightening as if bracing for a storm. “Claire. Still no man in sight, no stability, no seriousness. What kind of woman her age doesn’t even have the sense to keep one?”

“Mommy,” Amelia interjected gently, “it’s just a matter of time. Everyone’s journey unfolds differently.”

“Time?!” her mother snapped, incredulity lacing her voice. “How much time does she need? Claire has always been late to everything. Learning to walk? Late. Learning to speak? Late. Starting to eat proper meals? Late. Graduating high school? Late! Getting into college? Late! And when it comes to men? Oh dear God, help her! After school, she stepped into her first relationship two whole years later, and even that didn’t last. None of them do! She can’t seem to keep a man longer than five months. Five months, Amelia!”

Amelia pressed her lips together, releasing a soft sigh as she tried to maintain her composure.

“Mommy, please. Don’t be so hard on her. Everyone grows at their own pace. She will find her way.”

“No,” Mrs. Harlow replied sharply, her tone resolute. “With you, it was different. Everything fell into place perfectly. You finished school, you met Adrian, and within just one year, he proposed. Today, you are his wife. You gave me a granddaughter. You embody everything a woman should aspire to be. Tell me, is that such a difficult standard to achieve?”

Amelia felt her smile waver, and she rubbed her temple, feeling the weight of her mother’s expectations.

“Mommy, it’s not like that. My life isn’t perfect either.”

“You don’t understand!” Mrs. Harlow’s voice cracked suddenly, as if an old wound had been reopened. “Twenty-two years ago, your father died. My husband died. Do you remember how?”

Amelia closed her eyes, the memories flooding back. She knew this story all too well.

“He died in an accident,” Mrs. Harlow whispered fiercely, her voice trembling with emotion. “He was trying to get her those ridiculous fries she loved at an ungodly hour. That girl isn’t just late in everything; she brings misfortune! Misfortune!”

“Mommy,” Amelia murmured softly but firmly, “please. Don’t say that. It’s not fair.”

But her mother continued, her grievances spilling forth as they always did, circling back to the same comparisons and frustrations. Amelia listened quietly, offering soft hums of acknowledgment, waiting for the storm to subside.

Finally, when Mrs. Harlow’s voice grew weary, she sighed heavily.

“Anyway. I just don’t know what will become of her.”

Amelia forced a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Mommy, everything will be fine. Claire will be fine. Let’s just leave it in God’s hands, hmm?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a quiet hum of acceptance.

“Goodnight, Amelia. Kiss Hazel for me in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mommy. I will.”

The call ended, and Amelia lowered her phone slowly, staring at the darkened screen as if it held the answers to her unspoken questions. She exhaled a long breath, one she hadn’t realized she was holding. This conversation wasn’t new; it wouldn’t be the last. Setting the phone back on the dresser, she turned off the light and slipped beneath the sheets beside Hazel.

Her eyes fluttered closed, but sleep eluded her for a while longer.

—

The suite was tranquil, its golden lamps casting a warm glow over the polished furniture and soft sheets. Vivian sat before the dresser, her reflection staring back at her as her thumb scrolled absently over her phone. The faint hum of the city pulsed through the windows, muffled behind the heavy curtains that draped like a comforting embrace.

Adrian lay sprawled comfortably on the king-sized bed, his phone in hand, the light from the screen illuminating his sharp features. He looked entirely at ease, perhaps too much so for Vivian’s liking.

“Babe?” Vivian’s voice broke the silence, soft yet edged with an underlying tension.

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