Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 74

AMELIA followed the soft lantern lights that lined a narrow stone path leading away from the bar and toward the open stretch beyond. The faint sound of waves grew louder with each step, steady and rhythmic, like nature’s own lullaby.

And then she saw it.

The beachside.

It opened before her in a breathtaking sweep of silver-blue water and darkening sky. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, but its farewell glow still painted streaks of amber and blush across the edge of the ocean. The sky above deepened into velvety indigo, the first shy stars beginning to blink awake.

The sea moved in gentle tides, rolling forward and retreating in foamy whispers against the shore. Lanterns hung from slender poles driven into the sand, their warm golden light flickering softly in the breeze. A few elegant wooden cabanas stood further down, draped with sheer white curtains that fluttered lazily. A handful of couples sat in quiet conversation at scattered tables, their silhouettes outlined against the glow of tabletop candles.

The air carried the scent of salt and something faintly tropical, something like coconut oil, perhaps, or blooming night flowers from somewhere behind the dunes.

For a long moment, Amelia simply stood there.

The breeze lifted strands of her hair, brushing them across her cheeks. The satin of her dress rippled lightly against her legs. She wrapped her arms loosely around herself, not from cold, but from the sheer fullness of the moment.

Seven in the evening.

Not fully night. Not quite day.

That in-between hour where everything feels softer.

She stepped forward, heels sinking slightly into the sand before she adjusted her footing. Her gaze moved slowly across the stretch of seating arranged along the shore— cushioned lounge chairs, low wooden tables, woven lanterns casting patterned shadows across the ground.

She chose a seat close to the water.

Close enough to hear every wave clearly.

A cushioned lounger faced the ocean directly, and in front of it sat a small round wooden table already set with a flickering candle inside a glass holder. She lowered herself onto the seat gracefully, smoothing her dress beneath her.

The sea breeze kissed her skin immediately, it was anything cool, refreshing and alive. It wrapped around her like an embrace she hadn’t realized she desperately needed.

She inhaled deeply.

Salt. Night air. Freedom.

Ahh.

This.

This was what she had been craving.

Not the luxury. Not the suite. Not even the escape from work.

But this stillness.

This distance from noise and chaos.

This pause between one move and the next.

Her shoulders dropped gradually, tension loosening from muscles she hadn’t known were tight. The chaos she had left behind— the calculated conversations, the strategic silence, the endless thinking, felt far away in this moment.

Here, there was only the sea.

Only the wind.

Only the soft murmur of waves rising and falling.

She leaned back fully into the lounger, allowing her body to sink into the cushion. Tilting her head upward, she closed her eyes.

The breeze brushed across her face again, cool and gentle.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Amelia allowed herself to simply be.

It did not take up to twenty minutes before she saw two figures approaching along the lantern-lit sand.

Amelia opened her eyes and pushed herself upright just as the waiters reached her table, each carrying a tray balanced expertly on one palm. The candlelight flickered against the polished lids of the serving dishes.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the first waiter greeted politely.

“Good evening,” Amelia replied with a small smile, brushing her hair off her shoulder as she sat fully upright.

“We are here with your dinner,” the second one added, already lowering the trays onto the small wooden table before her. “Chef sends his regards.”

“That is very kind of him,” she said warmly.

They began setting the table with quiet efficiency, placing a folded linen napkin beside her plate, arranging polished silverware, adjusting the candle slightly so it wouldn’t flicker into the food. One lifted the lid of a covered dish just a fraction to release steam before settling it back down.

“We hope you enjoy your meal,” the first waiter said.

“I’m sure I will,” Amelia replied, glancing at the arrangement with growing curiosity.

They finished setting everything down neatly.

“Is there anything else you may need at the moment?” the second waiter asked.

She scanned the table briefly.

Then her eyes paused.

There was bottled water already uncapped and poured into a glass, but no wine.

She distinctly remembered selecting wine when she confirmed the order.

She tilted her head slightly.

“I’m sorry… I believe I included a bottle of wine with dinner?”

The two waiters exchanged a knowing look.

“Yes, ma’am,” the first one answered promptly. “The wine will be brought by the bar attendant personally.”

“Oh,” Amelia responded, her brows lifting in mild surprise.

“Shortly,” the second assured.

She nodded, amused more than concerned.

“All right then. Thank you.”

“Our pleasure, ma’am.”

They gave small courteous nods before stepping away, their footsteps soft against the sand as they disappeared back toward the main building.

Alone again with the sea and her meal, Amelia leaned forward.

She lifted the first lid.

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