Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 25

**Hands Trembled Before Goodbye — Ryan Ellis 25**

The day began with the familiar rhythm of morning chores. Amelia was busy changing the bedsheets, fluffing the pillows, and smoothing out the duvet cover with meticulous care. Meanwhile, Adrian was in the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air as he took his bath. Just as Amelia was about to tuck in the last corner of the duvet, a sudden vibration startled her. It was Adrian’s phone, lying innocently on the dresser atop a well-worn Bible.

Curiosity piqued, she dropped the pillow she had been holding and approached the dresser. Leaning over, she could see the screen lighting up with the name of the automobile guy once again.

“Babe, babe,” she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet of their home.

“Yeah?” Adrian’s voice came back to her, muffled by the sound of water splashing.

“Um, the automobile guy is calling. Should I pick up and tell him to call—”

Before she could finish her thought, the unexpected happened. Adrian burst out of the bathroom, a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist, droplets of water cascading down his sculpted torso, his expression a mix of urgency and something unreadable.

“No!” he exclaimed, snatching the phone from her grasp with a fervor that made Amelia freeze in place. His eyes locked onto hers, fierce and sharp, as if he hadn’t fully registered the intensity of his actions.

Amelia’s mouth parted slightly, caught off guard, her mind racing.

“It… it is just the automobile repairer, right?” she ventured cautiously, her voice quivering with uncertainty.

“Yes… yeah, it is him.” Adrian avoided her gaze, his eyes glued to the screen. He ran a hand over his wet face, exhaling sharply as if trying to release the tension building inside him. “It’s work-related. I keep telling this… this boy not to call me at odd hours, but he won’t listen.” His tone dripped with irritation, yet the hurried nature of his explanation hinted at something deeper.

Amelia stood there, her heart beginning to race as unease settled into her chest.

He looked back at her, his expression softening, almost apologetic.

“I will handle it,” he assured her, his voice gentler this time.

Amelia remained silent, her mind swirling with questions. She simply raised a hand and gestured toward the bathroom.

“To the restroom,” she murmured, her words barely above a whisper.

Adrian hesitated for a fleeting moment, then turned away, the phone clutched tightly in his hand as if it were a precious artifact. He walked back into the bathroom, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints on the tiled floor before shutting the door with a soft click.

Amelia stood still, her eyes fixed on the closed door, her thoughts racing. She picked up the pillow again, but her movements felt stiff and distracted. As she tucked in the fresh sheets, the scene replayed in her mind, and the question she dared not voice echoed louder within her—*If it was just the automobile guy… why did he panic like that?*

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