My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 118: Saturday Night Resolve

Leonard sat on the edge of his sofa in his dark living room, his foot tapping restlessly on the hardwood floor. He stared at his watch—08:07 pm—but his mind wasn’t on time. It was consumed by thoughts of Katherine and Felix, who were right now sharing a romantic dinner somewhere miles away, and more painfully, closer than he could bear to admit. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

He exhaled sharply through his nose and dragged a hand down his face.

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

Originally, he’d thought—no, hoped—he could spend the evening with Katherine and the twins. Nothing grand. Maybe bring over some takeout, let the kids pick a movie, watch them pile onto Katherine like oversized puppies while she laughed and threatened to kick them off. He would’ve taken the armchair, pretended not to watch her too closely, but still feel content just being near her again. Slowly. Carefully. Just like how they’d started to talk again without raised voices, without the bitterness that used to hang between them like smoke.

But that plan never happened.

He didn’t even get the chance to offer.

Because when the door opened that afternoon, and Katherine stood in front of him, all the words in his throat withered and died.

She looked beautiful—painfully so.

But bot for him.

She was dressed for Felix.

And Leonard knew it. He felt it in his gut like a punch. He tried to smile, to be civil, to act like he hadn’t just watched the future he envisioned blur and tilt sideways.

He felt stupid.

Not just for letting her walk out the door—but for not even trying.

But who was he kidding?

If he tried to stop her, Katherine would look at him like he was the same man she once walked away from. The one who pushed, who demanded, who controlled.

A deep sigh escaped him. The ticking silence of the apartment felt suffocating, and he needed to move.

He stood and slipped on his coat, fingers trembling slightly. He grabbed his keys and left. The quiet click of the door behind him reverberated in his chest.

No. Not to follow them.

God, no. Of course not. He wasn’t a stalker.

But that didn’t stop the ugly thought from bubbling up in his chest—that small, bitter part of him that wanted to know where they were right now, what Felix was saying to her, whether Katherine was laughing, smiling... touching his arm like she used to do to Leonard.

He shook his head hard and opened the door.

Air. That was all he needed.

The corridor lights flickered in polite greeting as Leonard stepped outside. He froze when he saw Irene across the hall standing by Felix and Katherine’s door. Irene accepted a pizza box from the delivery man with a polite nod before he turned and walked away, leaving them with the quiet hum of the hallway.

"Pizza for the kids?" he asked, voice catching softly.

Irene looked over at him, her posture stiff but respectful. The pizza box sagging slightly in her arms made him realize the cut she must feel these nights. "Yeah," she replied, voice flat, "for the twins."

The seconds stretched with a charged silence. Leonard’s pulse pounded as he summoned the courage to speak. "Irene, if you’re wondering... I’m not following them." His voice was calm, even vulnerable.

Leonard stood there for a moment longer. Then he let out a quiet breath.

Of course she thought the worst of him. She always had.

Even before the divorce, he could feel Irene’s stare like a blade against his back. The disappointment. The judgment. The quiet fury she tried to suppress for Katherine’s sake.

And even now, after everything, he couldn’t blame her.

He had hurt Katherine. Betrayed her trust. Left scars that didn’t fade easily.

She arched an eyebrow, gaze cool. "I hope not," she replied, voice clipped. "I hope you’re not here to wreck what they’re building." She swung the pizza box, jabbing him with truth.

Leonard rested his back against the opposite wall. "I think we do need to talk. About everything. About us."

Irene scoffed softly. "Is this regret? You want a do-over?" She tossed her dark hair back. "You know, Leonard, if you loved Katherine, you wouldn’t have gone to—" She broke off. "Why are you here now?"

He met her eyes fiercely. "I do love her. And I want to fight—for her, for the twins."

She studied him, expression unreadable. "Love doesn’t erase hurt," she warned. "You had your chance." She took a breath: "Please, just... don’t screw this up any further."

Leonard bristled at the honesty and pride flooded him. "I know," he whispered. "I know I was a jackass. But I won’t stop trying."

Irene closed her eyes. "Good luck with that." She spun, walked to the door, and unlocked it with a determined clack.

Irene slipped inside when suddenly, a small, tentative voice drifted from the doorway.

"N-n-Uncle Leonard?"

Leonard’s chest tightened as little Nathan—eyes wide with hopeful kindness—looked up. Beside him, Maya peered curiously. Her big innocent gaze spoke volumes: Please come in.

Irene offered a stiff smile at Leonard. Nathan’s question felt like a challenge. He swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Hi, Nathan. Maya."

Nathan’s eyes lit up with innocence. "Why didn’t you come in?"

Irene stepped back out, placing herself between Leonard and the children. "He was... busy."

Leonard shook his head. "No, not busy. I—I just hoped I could come in. That I could spend time with you."

He spoke softly, directly. Beneath the tough exterior of the man hurt by betrayal, his yearning for his children bloomed. Nathan and Maya exchanged a glance before both padded forward, their tiny arms reaching up.

Leonard knelt, pulling them into a careful hug. Their warmth flooded him, chasing away the darkness. It was unexpected—a fragile peace.

Irene watched from the side, her arms folded but not blocking them. Hesitantly, she lifted a hand, then reached in place—holding the door.

Leonard didn’t look at her. He only breathed in the simple comfort of his children.

A low grumble from Irene.

He glanced up, catching the way she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, muttering under her breath, "Honestly..." as if the universe had just handed her one more chore she didn’t ask for.

Still, her grip on the door didn’t falter.

And then she jerked her chin slightly, the gesture small but clear. Well? Are you coming in or not?

Leonard blinked. For a second, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

But no—she stepped back, the door swinging wider as if to say, Don’t make me repeat myself.

He rose slowly, the twins still wrapped around his arms like weighted blankets he didn’t want to set down. He guided them gently inside and followed, only sparing Irene a brief glance as he passed her.

She didn’t meet his eyes.

Didn’t have to.

Leonard didn’t say thank you out loud. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew Irene wouldn’t want to hear it.