Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 62

THE restaurant was softly lit, the golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the polished wooden tables. It was one of those places Amelia and Charles had grown used to, a place quiet enough for intimate conversations and classy enough to feel like an escape from routine. Their usual weekend spot.

They sat opposite each other in a secluded corner booth. Amelia looked relaxed, elegant in a fitted wine-colored dress, her hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders. Charles, in a neatly pressed navy shirt, leaned back comfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed on her with that familiar fondness.

“I still don’t understand how you manage to look this composed after the week you had,” Charles said, shaking his head lightly.

Amelia chuckled.

“Composed? You should have seen me on Wednesday. I nearly lost my mind at the office.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward with interest. “What happened?”

“One of the new managers tried to question my restructuring plan. In front of everyone.”

Charles raised a brow. “Bold.”

“Very bold,” Amelia agreed. “I let him finish. Then I asked him to present an alternative solution. He couldn’t.”

Charles laughed heartily.

“And that is why I don’t argue with you.”

“Smart man,” she teased.

Just then, two waitresses approached their table, both smiling politely.

“Good evening, ma’am, sir,” one of them greeted.

“Good evening,” Amelia responded warmly.

They placed their meals on the table carefully— grilled salmon and sautéed vegetables for Amelia, steak and roasted potatoes for Charles. The aroma rose immediately, rich and inviting.

“Would you like anything else?” the second waitress asked.

“We are fine for now, thank you,” Charles replied.

As the waitresses left, Amelia picked up her cutlery.

“I’m starving.”

“That makes two of us,” Charles said, already slicing into his steak.

For a few moments, they ate quietly, savoring the food.

“So,” Charles began between bites, “how are the twins? Still plotting world domination?”

Amelia laughed softly.

“Gabriel and Gaddiel? Always. Yesterday they tried to convince me that bedtime at nine is ‘oppression.’”

Charles burst into laughter.

“Oppression? At seven?”

“They are dramatic, my love. I wonder where they get it from.”

“Not you, obviously,” he said playfully.

She smirked. “Of course not.”

“And Hazel?” he asked carefully.

Amelia’s smile thinned just a little.

“Hazel is… Hazel.”

“That bad?”

“She has been pushing boundaries lately.”

Charles nodded slowly, though he didn’t press further.

They continued eating, the conversation drifting to lighter topics, Charles’ workload at his firm, a funny incident involving one of his junior colleagues, and a brief debate about whether they should take a short trip next month.

“I need a break,” Amelia admitted. “Somewhere quiet.”

“Beach or mountains?” Charles asked.

“Beach,” she answered immediately. “I need to hear waves. Somewhere in The Bahamas.”

“I will make it happen,” he said confidently.

Amelia smiled appreciatively.

They were midway through their meal when Amelia suddenly placed her fork down gently.

“There is something I need to tell you,” she said.

Charles looked up, chewing thoughtfully.

“That sounds serious.”

“It is not dramatic,” she replied. “Just… important.”

He swallowed.

“Alright.”

Amelia inhaled softly.

“Hazel will be moving to the boarding section of her school by Monday. She will only be coming home on weekends.”

Charles froze.

The words barely settled before he choked violently on his food.

“Oh!” Amelia exclaimed quickly, grabbing his glass of water and handing it to him. “Sorry, here.”

Charles coughed, taking the glass and drinking hurriedly.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “You were saying?”

Amelia repeated calmly, “Hazel will become a weekly boarder in her school, starting Monday.”

Charles stared at her.

“Huh? That is a hard decision you made there.”

“I know,” she admitted. “But it’s for the best. She has been snooping too much and it has gotten up to here.” She gestured at her neck.

Charles leaned back slowly, absorbing the information.

“Boarding school is… big, Amelia.”

“She will still come home on weekends,” Amelia said evenly.

“I know, but…” He paused. “She is used to being around. She helps with the boys. Whether she admits it or not.”

Amelia gave a short shrug.

“She will survive.”

“And the twins adore her,” Charles added carefully. “Despite how mean she is to me.”

Amelia’s lips curved slightly.

“Yeah. It is… noticeable.”

“Oh, I notice,” he said with a faint smile. “Every sarcastic remark. Every eye roll.”

“And yet you are still here,” she teased.

Charles smiled, though there was something thoughtful behind it.

“Kids push back when they feel cornered.”

Amelia’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“Are you implying something?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I just mean… change is hard at that age.”

“She crossed lines,” Amelia replied firmly. “And I won’t tolerate it.”

Charles studied her face.

“Have you spoken to Adrian about it?”

Her expression tightened for a split second.

“It’s already decided.”

He nodded slowly, though worry lingered in his eyes.

“She may act difficult,” he said gently, “but she is protective. Of you. Of the boys.”

Amelia’s fork hovered mid-air.

“Protective?”

Charles hesitated.

The restaurant noise hummed faintly around them, cutlery clinking, low conversations blending into background ambience.

Amelia tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a fraction.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Charles?” she asked.

Charles blinked.

“Something?” he repeated, his voice climbing half an octave. “Like what?”

Amelia didn’t break eye contact. She lifted her glass slowly, took a small sip of water, and set it down with deliberate calm.

“I don’t know,” she said lightly. “Anything.”

Charles forced a laugh. It came out slightly strained.

“Amelia, you are scaring me,” he said. “Should there be something?”

She shrugged.

“That is what I’m asking you.”

He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, buying time.

“There is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why would there be something?”

She tilted her head.

“You choked like I told you Hazel was joining the army.”

“I choked because you dropped a bomb between bites,” he defended. “Boarding school is not small talk.”

Her lips twitched faintly.

“So there is nothing you want to share?”

Charles leaned forward, lowering his voice theatrically.

“Unless you are secretly expecting me to confess to eating the last slice of your cheesecake last Sunday, I have nothing to confess.”

Amelia watched him for two seconds longer than necessary.

Then she smiled.

“Relax, Charles. I was only asking.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“You do that thing with your eyes.”

“What thing?”

“That interrogation thing.”

She chuckled softly.

“If you feel interrogated, maybe that is your conscience.”

“My conscience is very clean, thank you.”

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