Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 161 - チャプター 170

AMELIA suddenly broke away.It wasn’t dramatic, not loud, but it was abrupt enough to snap Charles out of the haze he had been drowning in. She lifted her hand to her mouth, wiping her lips as though something had startled her into awareness. She took a step back, breathing unevenly, her eyes darting away from his face.Charles stared at her, stunned.“Hey… hey,” he said softly, confusion settling into his tone. “What is wrong?” He searched her face. “Did I do something? Were you not enjoying it? Or—” he laughed nervously, trying to lighten the air, “—was the moment too much?”She shook her head quickly. “No. No, it is not that.”“Then what?” he pressed, his brows pulling together. “Amelia, you just— you pulled away like you saw a ghost.”Her shoulders sagged. The adrenaline drained from her posture, replaced with something heavier, something quieter. She hugged herself briefly, then looked up at him.“I can’t,” she said.Charles blinked. “You can’t… what?”“I can’t let this go furt

THE living room was washed in the soft glow of mid-afternoon light, curtains drawn halfway to let the sun spill lazily across the tiled floor. Two elderly women sat comfortably on the plush couch, knees angled toward each other, fancy porcelain teacups cradled in their hands as thin wisps of steam curled into the air.Mrs. Harlow lifted her cup carefully and took a small sip. “This tea always tastes better when I have company,” she said with a pleased smile. “I swear, when I drink it alone, it is just… tea.”Mrs. Ellis chuckled, setting her own cup down on the saucer. “That’s because you add too much sugar when you are lonely,” she teased. “You are compensating.”“Oh please,” Mrs. Harlow scoffed lightly. “As if I’m the lonely one here. You are the one who suddenly remembered she had a best friend after months of disappearance.”Mrs. Ellis laughed, the sound full and warm. “Don’t exaggerate. I called you last week.”“And promised to come visit two weeks ago,” Mrs. Harlow countered,

CHARLES stared at the phone vibrating on the kitchen counter, the name flashing insistently across the screen.**Shantel.**He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before swiping to answer. “What do you want, Shantel?”Her breath rushed through the line, uneven, emotional. “Charles… thank God. You finally picked.”“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said flatly.“I—” she sniffed. “I just needed to hear your voice.”He leaned against the counter, eyes lifting briefly to the framed engagement photo propped beside the coffee machine. He turned the phone slightly, as if the distance might help. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”“Please don’t say that,” Shantel rushed. “I have been trying for days. You blocked my other number.”“For a reason.”Her laugh came out shaky.“You are still like this. Always serious.” Then her tone softened. “I miss you, Charles. I miss us.”“There is no us,” he said calmly.“Don’t do that,” she pleaded. “I have changed. I swear. I’m not that girl anymo

IT was evening when Adrian finally returned home, the sky outside already bruised purple and blue with the coming night. The house greeted him with its usual stillness, too quiet and too large for one man. He shut the door behind him, loosened his tie with a careless tug, and dropped his briefcase on the couch like it weighed nothing and everything at the same time.Without turning on the lights, he strode into the kitchen. His movements were mechanical, practiced. He filled a glass with water, drained it in long gulps, then reached for the bottle of wine he had left on the counter the previous night. The cork was already out. He poured, didn’t measure, and lifted the glass to his lips.With the wine in hand, Adrian walked into the dining area.He stopped at the doorway.The dining table sat there, polished and untouched, the chairs neatly arranged around it. The overhead chandelier was off, but the faint glow from the hallway lights spilled in just enough to paint the room in shadows

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