Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 36

THE cab slowed as it approached the quiet street, its tires crunching softly against loose gravel. The neighborhood was one of those places that tried very hard to look perfect— neatly lined houses, trimmed hedges, matching gates, and a calm that spoke of routine and order. When the cab finally pulled up in front of a semi-detached bungalow, the engine hummed briefly before dying down.

The door opened and two girls stepped out.

They were unmistakably students— school bags slung over their shoulders, uniforms slightly rumpled from a long day, shoes dusty at the hems. Amaka stepped out first, already digging into her pocket for money, while Hazel followed, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

Amaka handed the fare through the open window.

“Thank you,” she said briskly.

The cab driver nodded, shifted gears, and zoomed off, disappearing down the street in seconds.

Amaka immediately turned toward the bungalow and began walking, her steps quick and purposeful, her shoulders sagging with tiredness. Hazel, however, slowed almost instinctively. Her eyes drifted past Amaka, past the neat bungalow they were meant to enter, and fixed themselves on the neighboring house.

It stood there like an eyesore— small, awkward, and entirely out of place.

The house looked tired. Its paint was peeling in patches, revealing dull concrete beneath. The lawn was wildly overgrown, weeds and grass sprouting unevenly like they had been left to battle each other for dominance. A crooked fence leaned slightly forward, as though exhausted from holding itself upright. The windows were closed, curtains drawn, giving the house a withdrawn, almost abandoned look.

Hazel slowed to a stop.

She stared.

Amaka reached the porch and fumbled with her keys before realizing Hazel wasn’t beside her. She turned around and groaned softly.

“Ahh! You won’t cease to amaze me, Hazel,” Amaka said, unlocking the door. “Don’t tell me that house still mesmerizes you, huh?” She chuckled, shaking her head.

Hazel scoffed and jogged the remaining distance to the porch.

“Mesmerize is an understatement,” she replied dryly. “It leaves me wowing.” Her tone was exaggerated, mock-serious.

Amaka burst into laughter, finally pushing the door open.

“Silly you.”

They stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them.

The interior of Amaka’s house was modest but warm. The living room smelled faintly of detergent and yesterday’s food. Hazel dropped her bag near the couch, still glancing toward the window that faced the neighboring house.

“Honestly,” Hazel said, wrinkling her nose as she slipped off her shoes, “what kind of human leaves his lawn unkept like that? Or— hold on— are you really sure someone lives there?”

Amaka dropped her own bag onto the couch and kicked off her shoes.

“Of course someone lives there.”

Hazel raised a brow.

“You are joking.”

“Nope.” Amaka shrugged, heading toward the kitchen. “A guy. One handsome dude like that.”

Hazel followed her. “Handsome?”

“Yes,” Amaka said, opening the fridge. “Tall. Broad-shouldered. That kind of broad that makes you rethink your entire life choices.”

Hazel snorted.

“You are ridiculous.”

“I have seen him once or twice,” Amaka continued, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing one to Hazel. “Can’t remember exactly when. But I seldomly see him.”

Hazel caught the bottle and twisted it open.

“Mm.” She took a sip, then grimaced. “This is unbelievable. You mean he returns to that as a home?” She gestured vaguely toward the window. “I can’t even imagine the number of rats in his kitchen right now. Jeez!”

Amaka laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You are dramatic.”

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