All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Regret: Too Late to Love: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

The room held its breath after her last words.They lingered in the air, not loud anymore, but still echoing—like something too big to settle all at once.Zoe’s hands dropped slowly from her face to her lap. Her fingers curled into each other, then loosened, then curled again, like she was trying to find something solid to hold onto.Allen didn’t move.He sat there, shoulders slightly slumped, his gaze fixed somewhere low, as though the floor might offer him an answer if he stared long enough.Silence stretched.Zoe exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling with a measured rhythm, but her thoughts… they didn’t seem to follow the same pace.She glanced at him, then away. Then back again.“So…” she started, her voice quieter now, more grounded, “that was why you said she wouldn’t give you the job.”Allen nodded once. Like even that took effort.Zoe leaned back slightly, her head tilting as she studied him, really taking him in now—not just the story, but the man sitting in front of h

Morning came in quietly. Not with noise or urgency, but with a thin line of light slipping through the curtains, stretching across the floor, inching its way toward the bed as it had nowhere else to be. Allen sat at the edge of it. Elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely linked, his gaze fixed on the window like something might happen out there if he waited long enough. But it didn’t. The world moved anyway—cars passing, voices rising faintly from the street below—but none of it seemed to reach him fully. A soft knock broke through. He didn’t turn immediately. Another knock. “Allen?” Zoe’s voice came through the door, gentle but firm. He exhaled. “Come in.” The door opened slowly. Zoe stepped inside, already dressed for work, her bag hanging from one shoulder, her hair pulled back in a way that suggested she hadn’t had time to think too much about it. She paused just inside, her eyes landing on him. “You’re up early.” Allen gave a small nod. “I couldn’t sleep.” Zo

Morning came with weight. Not the kind that pressed from the outside, but the sort that settled deep in her limbs, as though sleep had only skimmed the surface of her body and left everything underneath untouched. Mia lay still for a moment longer than she should have. The ceiling above her held steady, pale and indifferent, while her thoughts moved slower than usual—thick, reluctant, as if even they needed convincing to begin the day. A soft sound broke through. One of the twins was shifting. A small, restless whimper followed. Mia turned her head slightly, her gaze softening almost immediately. “Hey…” she murmured, her voice low, still rough at the edges. She pushed herself up, the movement slow, her body resisting before finally giving in. The floor met her feet, cool and grounding, and she walked over, lifting the baby with practiced ease. “Good morning,” she whispered, brushing her lips against soft skin. Noah stirred too, small hands stretching, searching. Mia exhaled

into house was still awake when Mia pushed the door open. That, more than anything, made her pause. The lights in the living room spilled into the hallway in a warm, steady glow. The quiet wasn’t the usual end-of-day quiet either. Mia stepped inside slowly, easing the door shut behind her. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, the sound carrying further than it should have. “Grandma?” she called, her voice low, uncertain. No immediate answer. She took a few more steps forward, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder, her fingers already loosening around the strap. Then she saw them. Both of them were seated side by side on the couch. Waiting for her. Grandma Morris turned first, her face lighting up in a way that made Mia’s steps falter. “Finally,” she said, her tone warm, threaded with something that felt almost like anticipation. “We were beginning to think you’d sleep at the office tonight.” Mia let out a small breath, though her brows pulled together

Three years later.The house no longer echoed. It breathed. Soft sounds lived in it now—small feet against polished floors, the uneven rhythm of laughter spilling from room to room, the faint clatter of something being dragged where it didn’t belong. Life, uncontained, moving through spaces that had once been too quiet. Mia stood at the kitchen counter, one hand resting against the edge while the other steadied a cup she hadn’t taken a sip from. “Careful—careful—” A burst of giggles cut her off. Too late. Something already toppled. She closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders lifting with a quiet inhale before she turned. Chris stood in the middle of the living room, one hand hovering uselessly in the air as if he could rewind the last two seconds if he just reached far enough. At his feet, wooden blocks lay scattered in all directions. Between them, two small bodies looked entirely pleased with the chaos they’d created. “That was not careful,” Mia said, though the edge never q