The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Ethan’s POV

I woke up slowly, the first thing I registered being warmth.

Real, unmistakable warmth.

Cynthia was beside me.

Naked.

For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming. The early morning light spilled through the thin curtains of the beach house, painting her skin in soft gold. Her hair was fanned across the pillow, her lashes fluttering slightly as she hovered between sleep and waking. My arm was draped over her waist, my palm resting against her bare back like it had always belonged there.

Like she had always belonged there.

My chest tightened.

After everything—three years of silence, bitterness, distance, regret—she was here. With me. She had let me touch her. Let me hold her. Let me back in, even if just for one night.

I leaned closer, brushing my lips against her shoulder, slow and reverent, like I was afraid she might disappear if I moved too fast. She shifted, a soft sound leaving her throat, not quite a sigh, not quite a breath.

She wasn’t pulling away.

That alone felt like a miracle.

I kissed along her collarbone, my hand sliding gently down her side, tracing familiar curves my body remembered far better than my mind ever could. She stirred more fully now, eyes fluttering open, unfocused, lips parting slightly.

“Ethan…” she murmured, my name barely there, like a question.

“I’m here,” I whispered, my mouth brushing her skin again. “It’s just me.”

Her fingers curled weakly into the sheets. She didn’t stop me. Didn’t tell me to move away. That was all the permission I needed.

I kissed her again, slower this time, my hand exploring with care, with patience. I wanted this moment to mean something — not just heat and history, but intention. I wanted her to know I wasn’t wasting this second chance.

She responded, her body arching slightly into mine, her breathing changing. My forehead rested against hers as I smiled softly, my heart pounding with disbelief.

I wanted to make love to her again. Properly this time. Not desperation. Not adrenaline. Just us, in the quiet of the morning, choosing each other.

My phone buzzed.

Once.

I ignored it, pressing another kiss to her jaw, my hand stilling only for a second.

The phone buzzed again.

She shifted, her brow faintly furrowing. “Ethan…”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured. “Just let it ring.”

The phone buzzed a third time, louder this time, insistent, vibrating against the nightstand like it had something urgent to say.

Cynthia sighed, pulling back just enough to look at me. “You should take it.”

I hesitated. Everything in me screamed not to. I didn’t want reality intruding on this fragile bubble we’d somehow created. I didn’t want anything pulling her away from me again.

But she was already watching me now, fully awake.

Reluctantly, I reached for the phone.

Margret.

I answered, keeping my voice low. “What is it?”

“Sir,” Margret said quickly, tension sharp in her tone, “you need to check the media. Immediately.”

I sat up, dread crawling up my spine. “What happened?”

“Yes,” I said, desperate now. “And it meant something to me. It still does.”

She handed the phone back to me like it burned her. “What happened in here,” she said, already reaching for her clothes, “was a mistake.”

My chest felt like it had been split open.

“No,” I said, standing up. “Don’t say that. Please. Let me explain.”

She dressed quickly hands shaking just slightly as she pulled on her clothes. She didn’t look at me once.

“Explain what?” she snapped. “That the world still thinks you have another family? That I am the after thought? Anna is the woman being betrayed right now… I just slept with her man.”

“That’s not…”

“I should have known better,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I should never have let myself forget why I left.”

“Cynthia,” I said, grabbing my shirt, panic rising. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”

She paused at the door, her hand on the handle.

For a second, I thought she might turn around.

Instead, she said, quietly but firmly, “Whatever this was… it doesn’t change anything.”

And then she walked out.

The door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded louder than any gunshot.

I stood there alone in the beach house, the bed still warm, her presence still lingering in the air, my phone heavy in my hand.

She still thought Hayden was mine and that I had betrayed her by sleeping with Anna while we were together but none of that was true.

And now… I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to tell her the truth.