The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124

Cynthia’s POV

“What?”

“You’ve been on your phone an awful lot,” Julian observed from his position on the couch, looking at me over the rim of his wine glass with that knowing older-brother expression.

I looked up from my screen, where I’d been rereading Nikolai’s lunch invitation for probably the fifth time, trying to decide what to wear tomorrow.

“It’s just messages from the university,” I said defensively, tucking my phone against my chest. “Updates about my teaching schedule and student inquiries.”

“Uh-huh,” Kevin said from where he was sprawled on the other couch, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Because professors definitely text their colleagues at nine o’clock at night with messages that make them smile like that.”

“I wasn’t smiling,” I protested, even though I definitely had been.

“You were absolutely smiling,” Helen chimed in, looking up from where she was helping Lily with a coloring book on the floor. “That little smile women get when they’re texting someone interesting.”

Nathaniel glanced up from his tablet and joined the pile-on. “Is it Ethan? Are you two working things out? I thought you’d given up on that disaster.”

“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly, probably. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Who is it?” Kevin sat up, his interest fully awakened. “Come on, Cici. Spill.”

“It’s nothing. Just a colleague…”

Before I could finish the sentence, Kevin lunged across the room with surprising speed for someone who’d looked half-asleep moments ago.

He snatched my phone right out of my hand.

“Kevin!” I shrieked, jumping to my feet.

But he was already dancing away, holding the phone high above his head where I couldn’t reach it, that infuriating big-brother grin plastered across his face.

“Let’s see what we have here…”

“Kevin, I swear to God—”

“Oh, this is good,” he announced, scrolling through my recent messages while I chased after him around the living room. “‘I’d simply enjoy your company.’ That’s quite romantic for a university colleague.”

“It’s not romantic, it’s professional!”

“Very professional,” Kevin agreed solemnly, though his grin only widened. “‘Looking forward to it, Cynthia.’ With a period at the end too. Serious business.”

“Give me my phone!”

Julian snorted into his wine glass while Helen tried—and failed—not to laugh.

“Technically,” I said after finally snatching my phone back while Kevin was distracted, “he is a professor at Missford University. Business and Economics department.”

The explanation sounded weak even to my own ears, especially given the tone of Nikolai’s messages.

“A business lunch,” Julian repeated slowly, clearly not believing a word of it. “At a quiet, intimate restaurant. Where he’ll enjoy your company.”

“Yes.”

“Cynthia,” Helen said gently, her voice cutting through the teasing, “you know you don’t have to justify having lunch with an attractive man, right? You’re getting divorced. You’re allowed to date.”

“I’m not dating,” I protested. “It really is just a friendly lunch…”

“She’s blushing,” Kevin announced gleefully. “Look at her face. She’s totally into this guy.”

“I am not—”

“You are,” Nathaniel confirmed, looking at me with amusement. “You’re definitely blushing. And that means either you’re into him, or you’re considering being into him, which amounts to the same thing.”

“Nonsense. We’re family. What’s mine is yours and all that.” Victoria waved away his objection and turned to Helen. “Dear, you don’t mind, do you? I’ll help with the cooking, of course. We can make that wonderful roast you did last Christmas.”

Helen looked slightly panicked but managed a smile. “Of course not, Mother. The more the merrier.”

“Excellent!” Victoria clapped her hands together. “Now, everyone get cleaned up. Dinner is at seven sharp. I want everyone looking presentable. This is a Laurent family dinner, and we have standards to maintain.”

I caught Julian’s eye and saw the same thought reflected there: this was going to be a long Christmas.

But there was also something comforting about Victoria’s arrival. The house felt more alive now, more complete. Her energy filled the space, demanding attention and giving direction, making us all fall into familiar roles.

This was what family felt like. Chaotic and demanding and sometimes overwhelming, but also warm and safe and fundamentally right.

Victoria loved the full house—I could see it in her face, the satisfaction of having all her children under one roof, of orchestrating family dinners and managing everyone’s lives with her particular brand of loving tyranny.

I retreated to my room shortly afterward and opened my laptop.

I needed to check emails, respond to Pierre about the kitchen renovations, review the reservations calendar for next month.

But instead, I found myself opening the email from Ethan.

Mr. Brown. His company’s holiday party. Specifically requesting both Mr. and Mrs. Walker.

I reread the message carefully, noting how deliberately Ethan had worded it. Making it sound professional, necessary, beneficial for everyone involved. Making it seem like refusing would be petty or unprofessional.

He was manipulating me, and I knew it.

But the thing was…

I wondered if I should attend anyway.