Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 78

THE television was loud, the commentators screaming over the roar of the crowd as the match reached a heated moment. The living room lights were dimmed, beer bottles and half-eaten snacks cluttering the center table. Marcus, wrapped in a blanket despite claiming he was “perfectly fine,” lounged across the couch, remote in hand. Julian sat sprawled on the carpet, back resting against the couch, completely invested in the game.

But Charles?

Charles was everywhere but there.

He was seated at the far end of the couch, elbows on his knees, phone in hand. Every few seconds, he unlocked the screen, stared at it, locked it again. He checked his banking app. Refreshed it. Checked messages. Refreshed again. Nothing.

When the opposing team scored and Marcus groaned loudly, Charles barely reacted.

Julian noticed first.

“Bro,” Julian muttered, eyes still on the screen. “Did you even see that goal?”

Charles blinked. “What?”

Marcus slowly turned his head toward him.

“Exactly.”

Charles forced a half-smile and looked back at the television, but barely a minute later, his phone buzzed with a notification. He sprang up immediately.

“I will be back,” he muttered, already walking toward the hallway.

Julian exchanged a look with Marcus.

“That is the fourth time,” Marcus said flatly.

“Fifth,” Julian corrected.

They heard Charles’s low voice from one of the bedrooms as he made yet another call. A few minutes later, he returned, jaw tight, shoulders tense. He didn’t sit immediately. He paced. Then sat. Then stood again.

Julian muted the television.

“Alright,” he said firmly. “Enough.”

Charles glanced at him.

“What?”

“What is wrong with you?” Julian asked. “You have been acting like someone waiting for exam results.”

Marcus adjusted himself on the couch.

“Or like someone whose landlord just sent a warning notice.”

Charles let out a heavy sigh and ran both hands through his hair.

“Things have been… difficult.”

Julian raised a brow.

“Define difficult.”

Charles hesitated, then dropped back onto the couch.

“My account is red.”

The room went quiet.

Marcus blinked.

“Red… as in red red?”

“Yes, red red,” Charles snapped, frustration slipping into his tone. “Overdrawn. I have been juggling things and it’s not adding up.”

Julian let out a short laugh.

“Since when? You always have money. Courtesy of your generous fiancée.”

“That is the point!” Charles burst out. “It is not flowing like it used to.”

Marcus frowned.

“I thought we agreed last week that she was just testing you. You paid for dinner, you sponsored that trip—”

“Exactly!” Charles cut in. “I funded her trip. I stepped up. I did something. I thought that would balance things out.”

Julian tilted his head. “And?”

“And nothing,” Charles replied bitterly. “She hasn’t… stepped in. Not like before.”

Marcus sat up straighter.

“Wait. You asked her?”

Charles hesitated.

“Not directly.”

Julian groaned.

“Then what are we even talking about?”

Charles shot him a glare.

“You don’t get it. It’s the vibe. The energy. She seems different now. Calculated, watching. I told you two this.”

Marcus and Julian exchanged another look.

“Yes. Recite Shakespeare.”

“Or cook for her,” Julian added dramatically. “Burn her kitchen down in the name of romance.”

“Not funny,” Charles muttered, though the corner of his lips twitched slightly.

They laughed anyway, trying to lighten the tension.

Then suddenly—

His phone rang.

The sharp vibration on the table jolted him upright.

All three men froze.

Charles slowly reached for the phone.

Unknown number.

He swallowed.

“Unknown,” he told them quietly.

Julian leaned forward eagerly.

“Pick it up.”

Marcus nodded.

“Yeah. What if it is business?”

Charles hesitated for half a second before swiping to answer.

There was a brief pause.

Then a familiar, silky voice drifted through the speaker.

“Hey, my love.”

Charles froze.

The color drained from his face.

His fingers tightened around the phone.

“Shantel,” he breathed.