The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 49

#49

Chapter 49

Ethan’s POV

“Ethan!”

I turned at the sound of my name, my hand on Amber’s shoulder.

Devian stood near the entrance with a woman I didn’t recognize. He was grinning that easy, careless grin of his that suggested he hadn’t a care in the world.

I envied him in that moment.

“Devian,” I said, forcing my voice to sound normal even though everything inside me felt like it was cracking apart.

“Man, what are you doing here?” He approached us, the woman trailing behind him. She was pretty with long dark hair and the kind of confident posture that suggested she knew exactly how attractive she was. “This is my cousin, Sienna. Remember I told you about her? It’s her birthday today.”

Sienna extended a perfectly manicured hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Ethan. Devian’s told me so much about you.”

I shook her hand mechanically, barely registering the touch. “Nice to meet you.”

But it wasn’t. Nothing was nice right now. Meeting Devian’s beautiful cousin was the absolute least of my problems when my son was standing beside me with red–rimmed eyes and disappointment orchestrated by his estranged mother.

“So what brings you here?” Devian asked, glancing between Amber and me with casual curiosity. “Father–son dinner?”

“Something like that,” I said quickly. “We were just having late lunch.”

I deliberately left Cynthia’s name out of it. The last thing I needed was Devian’s reaction with questions, sympathy, or knowing look that said he’d predicted this all along. That Cynthia would disappoint us. That she’d moved on long ago and not even interested in Amber.

I couldn’t handle that right now. Couldn’t handle anyone saying out loud what I was already screaming at myself internally.

Devian didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“Right, right. Well, hey, don’t forget it’s Friday! Sienna’s birthday party is tonight at Euphoria. Should be a good time, open bar, DJ, the works. You should definitely come.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, already tugging Amber toward the door. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Come on, man. You can’t miss it. You need to let loose.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Besides, there’ll be plenty of beautiful women there. Right, Sienna?”

Sienna laughed, a warm,

melodious sound. “He’s not wrong. I invited half of Missford’s modeling scene.”

Any other day, I might have appreciated the invitation, the promise of distraction.

But today, all I could think about was getting Amber home before he completely fell apart. “I’ll think about it,” I said, already moving. “We really have to go, Devian. I’ll text you.”

“Alright, man. It starts at nine!”

I nodded without really committing and practically fled the restaurant with Amber in tow.

The drive home was silent. Amber stared out the window, very sad. I wanted to say something to make this better, but what could I possibly say?

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I’m sorry your mother abandoned you again.

I’m sorry I let you hope.

I’m sorry I can’t fix this.

None of it was enough.

My mother was waiting in the foyer when we walked through the front door. Of course she was. Grace Walker never missed an opportunity to be proven right.

“Well?” she said immediately, her eyes scanning both of us. “How did it go?”

When she saw Amber’s devastated expression, my barely contained fury…her eyebrows rose with what looked suspiciously like satisfaction.

“Amber, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “What happened? Did you see your mother”

“She didn’t come,” Amber said, his voice small and broken.

Grace pressed a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “She didn’t come? But I thought she was the one who wanted this meeting?”

“She didn’t show up,” Amber repeated, and I could hear the tears threatening again. “We waited for three and a half hours and she never came. She didn’t even call.”

“Well,” Grace said, and there was no mistaking the smugness in her tone now. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Cynthia has clearly moved on. She doesn’t want to be involved with this family anymore. She’s too busy with her fancy restaurants and her new life

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“Mother,” I cut her off sharply.

I turned to the housekeeper who’d appeared just in time. “Mrs. Daniel, please help Amber get settled upstairs. Make sure he has something to eat if he’s hungry.”

“Of course, Mr. Walker.” Mrs. Daniel moved forward with gentle efficiency, placing a kind hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you comfortable.”

Amber didn’t resist. He just let himself be led away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, still clutching those damn drawings.

The moment he was gone, Grace opened her mouth to start again.

“Don’t,” I warned.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

I looked at my mother, at her perfectly styled hair, her expensive jewelry, her expression of righteous indignation that she wore

like armor.

I couldn’t stand here and listen to her talk about Cynthia, couldn’t listen to her dissect my failed marriage and my failures as a husband, couldn’t let her add salt to wounds that were already bleeding.

“I’m going out,” I said abruptly, turning toward the door.

I walked out before she could respond, got back in my car, and sat there for a moment with my hands on the steering wheel.

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