The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210

Kevin's POV

Julian wasn't supposed to be back.

He'd left for his "vacation" earlier today—or what everyone else thought was a vacation but I now knew was time with Tony. He should have been halfway across the city by now, settled into whatever hotel or apartment they'd chosen for their two weeks together.

But instead, he was here.

In his room at the Laurent mansion.

And I knew exactly why.

He wanted to talk.

Needed to talk.

Because I'd shown up at that restaurant, seen him with Tony, confirmed the truth he'd been hiding his entire life.

And now everything had changed between us.

Downstairs, the house was alive with conversation. Cynthia was still making phone calls, Helen was fussing over him with blankets and hot chocolate, Nathaniel was making calls to update the police, and Mom was dozing off on the couch.

No one noticed when I slipped away.

I climbed the stairs slowly, my chest tight, my mind still struggling to fully process what I'd learned tonight.

I reached Julian's door and paused, my hand hovering over the handle.

For a brief second, I considered turning around. Going back downstairs. Pretending I hadn't seen what I'd seen. Giving him space to figure out how to tell me on his own terms.

But that felt cowardly.

And Julian deserved better than that.

I knocked once, softly, then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

Julian was sitting on the edge of his bed, still fully dressed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed.

He looked up the moment I entered.

His eyes were red-rimmed.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, crossing my arms over my chest.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable, thick with everything unsaid.

Then Julian took a shaky breath.

"This is who I am, Kevin."

His voice cracked on the last word, trembling with emotion he'd been fighting to contain.

That did it.

Every wall I'd been building, every defense mechanism I'd been using to keep myself steady, crumbled instantly.

I crossed the room in three long strides and pulled Julian into my arms.

He collapsed against me immediately, his shoulders shaking as sobs finally broke free—loud, gut-wrenching sobs that tore out of him like something physical being ripped away.

"Hey," I said quietly, holding him tightly. "It's fine. I'm not judging you, Julian. I'm not."

He cried harder.

I just held him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other wrapped around his shoulders, grounding him the way I'd done when we were kids and he'd scraped his knee or lost a competition or felt overwhelmed by the pressure of being perfect.

"I'm sorry," he choked out between sobs. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't," I said firmly. "Don't apologize."

"It’s…”

"Julian," I cut him off gently. "You don't have to apologize for who you are."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice.

Julian looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes.

"Because I was terrified," he said simply. "Of what you'd think. Of what Mom would say. Of what the family would do."

He swallowed hard.

"We're Catholic, Kevin. Devoutly Catholic. Mom has made her beliefs very clear. And I—" His voice cracked again. "I couldn't risk losing all of you. I couldn't risk being cast out, being disowned, being treated like I was… broken."

My throat tightened painfully.

"Julian…"

"I know what the Church says," he continued, his voice trembling. "I know what Mom believes. And I tried, Kevin. I tried to be what everyone wanted me to be. But I can't. I can't keep pretending. I can't keep living a lie."

Tears were streaming down his face again, but he didn't bother wiping them away this time.

"Tony wants to go public," Julian said quietly. "He's tired of hiding. And honestly… so am I."

I stared at him, my heart pounding.

"But if I do that," Julian continued, "everything changes. The family. The reputation. Mom…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to.

I pulled him into another hug, holding him tightly.

"You don't have to feel apologetic about who you are," I said firmly. "Ever."

Julian's shoulders shook against me.

"I've got you," I whispered. "No matter what. You hear me? I've got you."

He nodded against my shoulder, his breathing slowly evening out.