The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 258

Chapter 258

Ethan's POV

I broke.

Completely, utterly broke.

The tears came before I could stop them — hot and uncontrollable, streaming down my battered face, stinging the cuts and bruises, mixing with the dried blood.

My entire body shook with sobs I'd been holding back for hours, maybe years.

Because Cynthia had just told me she loved me.

Not past tense.

Not conditional.

Loved.

Present tense.

Despite everything I'd done to her.

Despite how I'd treated her, neglected her, pushed her away.

Despite the fact that we were tied up in a freezing warehouse, beaten and terrified, possibly hours away from death.

She still loved me.

And God help me, I loved her too.

"I love you too," I said, my voice breaking completely. "Cynthia, I love you too."

She stared at me, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I never stopped," I continued, the words tumbling out now, desperate and raw. "Not since that warehouse twenty years ago when you tried to save me. Not when we got married. Not when I was too stupid and blind to see what I had. Not even when you left."

I took a shaky breath, my ribs screaming in protest.

"I've loved you the entire time," I said. "I just — I was manipulated… I was stupid, I was.... I didn't know how to be the man you deserved. And I'm sorry. God, Cynthia, I'm so sorry."

More sobs tore out of me, and I couldn't stop them.

Couldn't hold them back.

Because the weight of everything — all the mistakes, all the wasted years, all the pain I'd caused — was crushing me.

"But you were right," I continued, my voice thick with self-loathing. "I am a coward. I've always been a coward. And a fool. I let people manipulate me so easily. Grace, Anna, — they all played me like I was nothing."

I shook my head, disgusted with myself.

"I bought their lies," I said bitterly. "Every single one. And I let those lies hurt you. Hurt Amber. Hurt everyone I cared about."

"Ethan—" Cynthia started.

"I hate myself for it," I interrupted, my voice rising despite the pain. "I hate that I was so blind. So gullible. So weak. I should have protected you. I should have seen what Grace was doing. I should have—"

"Stop," Cynthia said firmly, cutting me off.

I looked at her, my vision blurred with tears.

"Stop speaking ill of yourself," she said, her voice gentle but strong. "Please, Ethan. I can't — I can't listen to you tear yourself apart like this."

"We will get out of this," Cynthia said, her voice firm despite the fear I could see in her eyes. "We will. Together."

I nodded, wanting desperately to believe her.

And for a moment, I felt hope.

Hope that maybe we could survive this.

Hope that maybe we could rebuild.

Hope that maybe, somehow, we'd get a second chance.

It was a terrifying thing to feel in a place like this. Hope had a way of making everything hurt more — because it meant there was something worth losing. And right now, looking at Cynthia's tear-streaked face, her wrists raw from the ropes, her eyes still somehow steady despite everything — I had never in my life been more aware of exactly how much I stood to lose.

Then I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal.

Loud. Harsh. Echoing through the warehouse.

The gates.

The big metal gates at the entrance were opening.

My entire body went rigid, every muscle tensing despite the pain.

Cynthia's eyes went wide, her breathing quickening.

We both turned our heads toward the entrance, our hearts pounding in unison.

Grace and her co-horts are back.