All Chapters of Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back): Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

THE kitchen felt unusually quiet after the heavy front door shut behind Adrian. The faint echo of his polished shoes against the marble floor lingered in Amelia’s ears long after he had gone. She stood still for a moment, her fingers brushing over the back of the chair he had occupied for a snappy breakfast, staring at the untouched piece of toast on his plate. He had barely eaten, as usual, too preoccupied with the day’s looming appointments.Amelia sighed softly. She gathered the plates and set them in the sink, forcing herself into motion. The clinking of ceramic was the only sound filling the room, accompanied by the hum of the refrigerator. She didn’t like silence, at least, not this kind. It wasn’t peaceful; it was hollow.From the hallway came the sound of small, eager footsteps. “Mommy!” Hazel, called, dragging her schoolbag along the floor. “Is Daddy gone already?”Amelia turned, her heart tightening at the sight of her little girl’s expectant face. Hazel was barely seven, w

THE house was unusually quiet that morning, the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen being the only constant sound. Mrs. Harlow sat in her favorite chair by the living room window, a delicate teacup balanced in her hand. She had that pinched look on her face, the one that meant she had been waiting for an opportunity to speak her mind.Claire walked in, her hair hastily tied up, her eyes shadowed with sleeplessness. She had barely managed a smile since her breakup weeks ago, but she was trying, at least in her own way.Her mother’s gaze flicked to her instantly. “Claire,” Mrs. Harlow started, her voice sharp yet laced with an air of superiority, “I don’t know what is wrong with you. Honestly, I don’t.” She set the cup down on the table with a quiet clink. “Twenty-eight years old and still unable to keep a man for longer than five months. Do you ever stop to ask yourself why?”Claire froze at the doorway, already weary of where this was going. “Mother, not this morning,” she m

THE dining room glowed warmly under the soft light of the chandelier, the polished mahogany table spread with elegance and care. Roasted lamb sat at the center, its golden-brown crust glistening, surrounded by bowls of buttery mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread rolls still steaming. A strawberry cheesecake decorated with tiny chocolate shavings waited at the far end, alongside a bottle of red wine, glasses already set. The table was neatly laid with silver cutlery, folded napkins, and a few birthday decorations Hazel had insisted on, balloons tied to the chairs, a small “Happy Birthday” banner tucked against the wall. Everything looked perfect, prepared for the celebration Adrian had promised to make time for.Amelia stepped out of the kitchen carrying the last dish, a tray of glazed chicken wings, and placed it gently on the table. She smoothed her dress, an elegant navy-blue gown that hugged her figure yet looked effortlessly graceful, her hair curled neatly around

THE next morning crept in softly, sunlight filtering through the blinds of the suburban house. Birds chattered outside, their songs piercing the quiet stillness of dawn. For once, Adrian was not in bed, nor hunched over his phone checking emails. He was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, an apron tied neatly around his waist. The apron was white with bold, faded-blue letters across it: “Best Daddy in the World.” Amelia had bought it for him years ago as a Father’s Day gift, and though he rarely wore it, today felt like the right time.The smell of eggs sizzling on the pan, butter melting over toast, and bacon crisping in the oven filled the kitchen. Adrian moved with unusual care, flipping pancakes onto a plate, drizzling syrup in small, careful circles. He wanted it to look perfect. He wanted this morning to be different, a balm to soothe over last night’s silence and the cold wall Amelia had began building against him, again.At the clatter of a bedroom door upstairs, Adrian paused,

THE boutique was alive with its usual soft hum of activity. The name “Satin & Sage” gleamed in gold cursive across the glass doors, catching the attention of women passing by. Inside, racks of elegant dresses shimmered under warm lights, their fabrics whispering of class and poise.In the women’s section, Amelia stood with one of her sales reps, a clipboard in her hand. Her eyes, calm yet sharp, scanned the displays while she gave orders in a gentle but firm tone.“Shift the emerald gowns closer to the front. They will catch better in the sunlight. And please make sure the mannequins are dressed in full sets, accessories included. Presentation is everything.”The sales rep nodded and hurried off, leaving Amelia to adjust a lace sleeve on one of the mannequins. Just then, the soft click of heels approached, and Amelia turned.“Look who we have here,” she said warmly.It was Claire, dressed impeccably as always, her figure draped in a chic beige pantsuit, her feet in pointed stilettos,