The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 202

Chapter 202

Cynthia's POV

I didn't know where Bryan was taking me.

The car moved smoothly through the darkened streets of Missford, the city lights blurring past my window like streaks of watercolor paint. I should have asked. Should have cared. Should have paid attention to where we were going.

But I couldn't.

All I could think about was Amber.

My baby.

My sweet, brilliant, innocent boy.

Out there somewhere. Alone. Scared. Possibly hurt.

The image of him on that CCTV footage played on an endless loop in my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Every time I tried to breathe, the air caught painfully in my throat.

Where are you, Amber?

My hands were clenched so tightly in my lap that my nails were digging into my palms, leaving small crescent-shaped marks on my skin. I barely felt it.

The guilt was suffocating.

I should have been there.

I should have stayed home with him tonight instead of going to that ridiculous gala. I should have told Nikolai no, explained that I had more important things to do than sit at a chairman's table and smile for cameras.

But I hadn't.

I'd gone anyway.

And while I was sitting there in my expensive dress, accepting applause and pretending everything was fine, my son had been running for his life.

How could Ethan be so careless?

The thought rose up unbidden, sharp and bitter.

What had he been thinking, bringing Amber to that event? At night? Without even telling me? What kind of father did that?

My chest tightened with anger.

And beneath the anger… fear.

Because if anything happened to Amber—if he was hurt, if he was taken, if something went wrong—I would never forgive Ethan.

And I would never forgive myself.

I turned slightly in my seat, looking at Bryan.

He was focused on the road, his jaw tight, his hands steady on the wheel. There was something calm about him, something grounding, even in the middle of all this chaos.

But there were questions burning in my mind that I couldn't ignore any longer.

"Bryan," I said quietly.

He glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah?"

"Why were you and Ethan at the event tonight?"

His shoulders tensed slightly.

"I mean," I continued, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady, "when I left the house earlier, you were both there. You didn't mention going anywhere. Especially not with Amber."

Bryan didn't answer immediately.

The silence stretched uncomfortably between us, thick and heavy.

Then the car slowed.

I looked up, realizing for the first time where we were.

A beach.

The ocean stretched out before us, dark and endless, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon reflecting off the water's surface. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, rhythmic and relentless.

Bryan pulled the car to a stop in a small parking area overlooking the beach and turned off the engine.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then he reached over and rolled down the windows.

Cool night air rushed in immediately, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea and the sound of the waves growing louder, clearer.

And the moment I did, I realized how close he was.

How intently he was looking at me.

His eyes weren't just concerned.

They were… searching.

Lingering on my face in a way that made my breath catch unexpectedly.

Then his gaze dropped.

To my lips.

My heart skipped.

Suddenly, unbidden, the memory came rushing back.

The hospital parking lot.

Bryan standing in front of me, holding out sushi, his voice low and sincere as he said the words that had turned my entire world sideways.

"I love you."

Oh God.

The air between us shifted.

Charged.

I could feel the tension crackling like electricity, the space between us shrinking even though neither of us had moved.

Bryan's hand was still covering mine, warm and solid, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

His eyes flicked back up to meet mine.

And I saw it clearly now.

Raw, undeniable want.

What the actual hell?