The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 174

Chapter 174

Cynthia’s POV

“Aren’t you going to bathe too?”

The question was simple, almost casual, yet it landed in my chest like a spark thrown onto dry tinder. Ethan’s voice was low, tired, but there was something else threaded through it — need, raw and unguarded. My heart fluttered violently, betraying me before my mind could catch up.

“I…” I started, then stopped, because I honestly didn’t know what I was supposed to say.

So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours. Grace wasn’t his mother. Pascal existed. Anna was in jail.. We’d slept on hospital chairs like strangers pretending not to notice how close our bodies were. Now we were back here, in this room that held the echoes of a marriage that had once nearly destroyed me.

And yet, here he was, looking at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

Ethan didn’t wait for my answer.

He stood, slow and deliberate, and wrapped his hands around my waist. The contact made my breath hitch instantly. His palms were warm, steady, pressing into the small of my back as if he was afraid I might drift away if he loosened his hold even slightly.

“This isn’t the time for you to leave me,” he said quietly. There was no command in his voice, no arrogance, none of the sharp edges that used to define him. Just honesty. “I need you. Right now… I need you more than I ever have.”

My chest tightened.

I searched his face, expecting to find his old attitude, to be sure I’m not being fooled a second time — control, entitlement, expectation. Instead, all I saw was a man stripped bare by truth, standing in the wreckage of his life and asking me not to walk away.

Something inside me softened.

I had spent years hardening myself against this man. Building walls. Learning how not to need him. Learning how to survive loving someone who never quite knew how to love me back.

This was a broken man, standing right in front of me.

My heart melted before I could stop it. Just to comfort him.

“Ethan…” I whispered, but my voice failed me again.

His hands tightened slightly on my waist, like he needed to feel that I was real.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted one hand and reached for my face. His fingers brushed my cheek, light as if he was testing whether I would pull away. When I didn’t, when I leaned unconsciously into his touch, something flickered in his eyes.

And then he kissed me.

Softly.

My heart did something ridiculous inside my chest, a strange, giddy flutter that made me feel unsteady on my feet. For a split second, memories of the beach house flashed through my mind—the stolen intimacy, the way he had looked at me like I was both familiar and new.

Was it about to happen again?

I should have stopped him. I should have reminded us both that this was dangerous territory, that emotions were high, that vulnerability blurred lines that took years to rebuild.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I kissed him back.

At first, it was cautious, my lips moving against his like I was relearning him, relearning us. Then something shifted. The tension we’d been holding back for days, maybe years, snapped quietly.

For a second, we simply stood there, the air thick with things neither of us said out loud.

Then he took my hands.

His fingers threaded through mine naturally, like they belonged there, and he gently guided me toward the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the space, steam already curling into the air, fogging the mirror and softening the sharp edges of reality.

The bathroom felt intimate, cocooned, like the rest of the world couldn’t reach us here.

Ethan turned to me, his hands still holding mine, grounding me, anchoring me in the moment. His eyes searched my face again, silently asking if I was still here, if I was still choosing this.

I stepped closer.

That was enough to answer enough.

The heat of the room wrapped around us, the scent of soap and warm water mingling with something deeper, something familiar that made my head spin. Every nerve in my body felt awake, alive, humming with awareness.

I was acutely conscious of how close he was. Of how his body aligned with mine without touching, of the space between us charged with unspoken desire.

My breath came a little faster, my skin buzzing as anticipation curled low in my stomach.

I realized then how much I wanted him.

I wanted the man he was trying to become. I wanted the honesty, the vulnerability, the version of Ethan that stood before me now without armor or arrogance.

I could feel my panties already drenched in wetness, that’s just how much I desired Ethan.