The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Cynthia’s POV

I was mid–sentence, explaining the delicate balance of acids in French cuisine, when the lecture hall door opened.

My heart stopped.

It was Ethan.

He stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp business suit. His eyes scanned the room before landing on me, and even from across the lecture hall, I felt the impact of his gaze.

What was he doing here?

“Professor Cynclair?” One of my students raised her hand. “You were saying about the lemon juice?”

I blinked, dragging my attention back to the whiteboard.

“Right. Yes. The lemon juice acts as both a flavor enhancer and a…”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way Ethan was now leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, watching me. “…a

preservative for the color of certain vegetables.”

My hands trembled slightly as I continued writing. I could feel him staring.

Focus, Cynthia. Just finish the lecture.

“The key is timing,” I continued, my voice steadier now.

“Add the acid too early, and you risk breaking down the cellular structure. Too late, and you’ve already lost the vibrant color you’re trying to preserve.”

I risked a glance toward the back. Ethan hadn’t moved. His expression was unreadable, but his presence filled the room like static electricity before a storm.

Twenty more minutes. I just had to get through twenty more minutes.

The lecture dragged on forever. I stumbled over words I’d explained a hundred times before. My usual confidence wavered under the weight of his stare. But somehow, I made it to the end.

“That’s all for today,” I said finally, closing my notes. “Remember, your practical exam is next week. Don’t forget to review the techniques we covered.”

Students began packing up, chattering among themselves as they filed out. A few approached my desk with questions, and I answered them on autopilot, all while hyperaware of Ethan still standing at the back of the room.

When the last student left, silence fell like a guillotine.

I busied myself with organizing my papers, refusing to look at him. “The university has office hours posted if you need to schedule an appointment…”

“We need to talk. Now.”

I kept my eyes on my papers. “I’m busy.”

“Cynthia.” He was moving now, his footsteps echoing as he walked down the aisle toward my desk. “This can’t wait.”

“I have another class in thirty minutes…”

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“Then we’ll talk for twenty–nine.” He stopped in front of my desk, his presence overwhelming. “It’s about Amber.”

My hands stilled. Slowly, I looked up at him.

“There’s a PTA meeting next month. You need to be there.”

“I can’t…”

“As his mother,” he continued, his voice firm. “You need to be there as his mother”

“No… I can’t…”

“I know we still have unresolved matters between us Cynthia but let’s keep that aside for now.” He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of my desk. “He’s struggling, Cynthia. Academically. Socially. He’s

falling apart, and you’re not there.”

“I can’t just suddenly appear after three years,” I said, my voice rising despite my attempt to stay calm. “I can’t just walk back into his life like nothing happened. We haven’t even had a one–on–one

conversation…”

“Then whose fault is that?” Ethan exploded, his composure shattering. “Why haven’t you had a one–on–one talk with him? He misses you, Cynthia! He’s literally throwing tantrums at school because he thinks you don’t love him anymore. He’s dropping in his academics. He saw you the other day and you acted like you didn’t even recognize him!”

A little silence to make me realize the tension building up.

“What is wrong with you?” Ethan demanded, his voice raw.

“How can you just abandon him like this?”

“He has Anna!” I shot back, my own anger flaring now.

“Anna has been there for him all this time. Anna has been making him happy. Not me. I never made him happy, Ethan. You made sure of that. You should be telling her this”

“How can you say…”

“Anna is his mother now,” I said, my voice breaking. “She’s the one he knows. The one he trusts. What am I supposed to do? Walk in and disrupt everything? Confuse him even more?”

Ethan’s mouth opened, ready to fire back, when a voice interrupted from the doorway.

“Cynthia?”

We both turned.

Nikolai stood there, his expression shifting from curious to concern as he took in the scene, Ethan looming over my desk, me standing rigid behind it.

“You,” Nikolai said, recognition dawning in his eyes. “You’re the man from the gala. The one who took her from our dance.”

Ethan’s expression darkened immediately, his jaw clenching as he straightened to his full height. “This is a private

conversation.”

“Is he disturbing you?” Nikolai asked me, ignoring Ethan entirely as he stepped into the room.

Ethan scoffed, “You are interfering, young man,” Ethan said, his voice low and dangerous. “We are talking about our son.”

Nikolai froze mid–step, his eyes widening. “Son?”

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I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the situation spiraling out of control.

“Yes,” Ethan said, his tone sharp. “Our son. As in, the child we had together. As in, none of your business.”

Nikolai looked between us, clearly trying to process this information. “You… you have a son together?”

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