Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 37

THE car door swung open, and the night air rushed in, cool and scented faintly with jasmine from Amelia’s carefully tended hedge.

Charles stepped out first, smooth and practiced, one hand already reaching back into the car.

“Careful,” he said lightly. “One leg at a time.”

“Pfft,” Amelia scoffed from the passenger seat, her laughter bubbling out before she even moved. “Since when did you become my bodyguard? Huh?”

She shifted forward, dramatically lifting one heel, then the other, stretching her legs out like she was stepping onto a stage instead of onto a driveway. Her purse slipped off her shoulder and landed back on the seat with a soft thud.

“Wait— my bag,” she slurred mildly, blinking at it like it had personally offended her.

Before Charles could reach for it, Amelia hopped down.

Bad idea.

Her heel caught the edge of the pavement, and her balance betrayed her instantly.

“Oh… oh… oh… babe!” Charles exclaimed, dropping everything to catch her just as she tipped forward.

Amelia burst into giggles, gripping the front of his jacket as if she had planned the stumble all along.

“See?” she laughed breathlessly. “I knew you would catch me.”

Charles shook his head, one arm firmly around her waist now, the other reaching into the car to retrieve her purse.

“Jeez, Amelia. You are tipsy.”

She gasped, placing a hand dramatically on her chest.

“Am I?” She leaned back slightly to peer up at him, eyes glassy but playful. “That is a very strong accusation, sir.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, slinging her purse over his shoulder. “And you are proving my point.”

She laughed again, the sound light and unrestrained, her body swaying just a little too much against his.

“You are just jealous,” she said. “I can still walk perfectly fine.”

To prove her point, she attempted to take a confident step forward.

But instead, she zigzagged.

Charles tightened his hold instantly.

“Okay. That is enough walking demonstrations for tonight.”

“Oh, relax,” she said, waving her free hand vaguely. “I’m not ‘that’ tipsy.”

She paused, squinting up at the house.

“…Is my door always that far away?”

Charles chuckled despite himself.

“Come on.”

They started toward the house slowly, Amelia’s heels clicking unevenly against the pavement as she leaned far too comfortably into him.

“You know,” she began suddenly, pointing at absolutely nothing, “this was a really good date.”

“It was,” he agreed.

“No,” she insisted, nodding vigorously. “Like… really good.”

He smiled down at her.

“I’m glad.”

She stopped walking abruptly, causing him to halt with her.

“And you know why it was good?”

“Why?”

“Because I laughed,” she said seriously. “A lot. Like a lot.”

He studied her face for a moment, her mascara still flawless, her lips glossy, her smile unguarded.

“That is a good reason.”

She resumed walking, humming under her breath now, occasionally bumping into him as if magnetized.

By the time they reached the door, she was talking, about everything and about nothing.

“…and then Hazel said— no wait, that was Gaddiel— no, no, Gabriel— ugh, why do they all talk at the same time?” she groaned, pressing her forehead lightly into Charles’s shoulder.

He laughed softly, fishing the keys from her purse.

“Easy, there.”

“I swear,” she continued, her words slightly tangled, “being a mother is a full-time job that nobody warned me about.”

He unlocked the door just as she finished the sentence.

The door clicked open.

Inside, the house was quiet, dimly lit, the calm after a long day. Charles guided her in carefully, locking the door behind them before steering her gently toward the couch.

“Sit,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” she said obediently, plopping down with a dramatic sigh. “You are very bossy tonight.”

“And you are very drunk,” he countered, kneeling briefly to remove her heels.

“I am not drunk,” she protested, immediately leaning back into the cushions. “I am… pleasantly altered.”

He snorted.

“Sure.”

He straightened, turning to place her heels neatly by the door.

When he turned back, Amelia was sitting upright.

Perfectly upright.

Her eyes were suddenly clearer. And focused.

Charles paused.

“…Okay. That was fast.”

She smiled calmly.

“Alcohol wears off quickly for me.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Really.”

“Yes,” she said, smoothing her skirt. “And also, I may have been exaggerating.”

“You don’t say.”

She laughed, softer now.

“I had fun.”

He moved to sit beside her.

“So did I.”

There was a comfortable pause.

Then Amelia tilted her head, studying him.

“You know what I would really love?”

“What?”

“I want to come over to your place,” she said lightly. “Cook for you. Properly this time. Again.”

His face brightened instantly.

“Really?”

“Yes. I miss cooking for someone who actually appreciates it.”

“I would love that,” he said quickly. “Anytime.”

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