The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 277

Chapter 277

Cynthia's POV

New Year's Eve came and went.

Fireworks lit up the Missford skyline at midnight—bright bursts of color against the dark winter sky, celebrating a fresh start, new beginnings, hope for the year ahead.

But I felt none of it.

I stood at the window of my bedroom, watching the celebrations from a distance, feeling completely disconnected from the joy everyone else seemed to feel.

Somewhere out there, Ethan was dying.

And I was here, safe and warm, while he suffered.

The guilt was crushing.

…

The next morning — New Year's Day — brought no news.

No updates from the police.

No sightings of Grace or Pascal.

No sign of Ethan.

Nothing.

Just silence.

And that silence was worse than any bad news could have been.

Because at least bad news would have been something.

At least I would have known.

Detective Susan called in the afternoon, her voice carefully neutral.

"We're still searching, Ms. Cynclair," she said. "We've expanded the radius. We're checking abandoned buildings, remote properties, anywhere they might have taken him."

"But you haven't found anything," I said flatly.

A pause.

"Not yet," she admitted. "But we're not giving up."

I hung up without saying goodbye.

Because what was the point?

Nikolai came by later that afternoon.

He'd been coming every day since I'd returned, checking on me, bringing snacks and nice smelling I didn't eat, offering quiet support.

Today, he found me sitting in the library, staring blankly at a book I wasn't actually reading.

"Cynthia," he said gently.

I looked up, and the concern in his eyes almost made me cry.

"Hey," I said, my voice hoarse from disuse.

"How are you holding up?" Nikolai asked, sitting down beside me.

I let out a bitter laugh.

"I'm not," I said simply.

Nikolai reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and steady.

"You're stronger than you think," he said quietly.

"Am I?" I asked. "Because I don't feel strong. I feel... broken."

"You survived," Nikolai said firmly. "You escaped. You got help. You did everything you could."

"But it wasn't enough," I whispered. "I left him there. And now he's…"

My voice broke.

Nikolai squeezed my hand gently.

"You didn't leave him," he said. "He told you to run. He wanted you to get help. You did exactly what he asked."

"And look where it got him," I said bitterly.

Nikolai didn't have an answer for that.

We sat in silence for a while, his hand still holding mine, his presence comforting even though nothing could actually make this better.

"Thank you," I said finally. "For being here. For... everything."

"I care about you, Cynthia," Nikolai said quietly. "I just want you to be okay."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Bryan arrived later that evening.

What if we'd actually talked instead of just hurting each other over and over?

Maybe none of this would have happened.

Maybe if I'd stayed in Missford, if I'd fought harder for our marriage, if I'd been there — Ethan wouldn't have gotten so depressed that he stopped eating.

Wouldn't have ended up malnourished in the hospital.

Wouldn't have been vulnerable when Grace came for him.

This was my fault.

All of it.

I pushed him away.

I broke him.

And now he's dying because of me.

The guilt wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, and I couldn't breathe.

The next morning, Kevin found me in the kitchen, staring at yet another untouched cup of coffee.

"You need to eat," he said.

"I'm not hungry," I replied automatically.

"Cici…"

"I said I'm not hungry," I snapped.

Kevin didn't back down.

"You're not helping anyone by starving yourself," he said firmly. "Amber needs you. The family needs you. And when we find Ethan, he's going to need you too."

"What if we don't find him?" I whispered.

"We will," Kevin said.

"You don't know that."

"No," Kevin admitted. "I don't. But I have to believe it. And so do you."

I shook my head.

Kevin pulled me into a hug, and I let him, because I didn't have the energy to resist.

"Then I'll hope for both of us," he said quietly.