The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 50

Cynthia’s POV

Nikolai stared out the window at the darkness, his reflection in the glass showing a man barely holding himself together.

“Tell me about him,” I said softly, breaking the silence we’d maintained since takeoff. “Your father.”

Nikolai turned to look at me, surprise flickering across his features. He gave a wry laugh. “Herman Cross,” he said, and there was both pride and pain in his voice. “The oil baron, they call him. Though he hates that title. Says it makes him sound like a cartoon villain.”

I offered a small smile. “Is he?”

“No.” Nikolai’s lips curved slightly. “He’s… complicated. Demanding. Brilliant. He built an empire from nothing, came from a small village outside Moscow with literally nothing but ambition and a head for numbers. Now Cross Energy is one of the largest oil and gas companies in Eastern Europe.”

“That’s impressive.”

“It is.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “It’s also exhausting being his son”

I understood that feeling more than he knew.

“Is that why you’re teaching?” I asked. “Instead of working in the family business?”

Nikolai nodded slowly. “I wanted to build something of my own. Prove I was more than just Herman Cross’s heir. My father… he didn’t understand at first. We fought about it for years. But eventually, he accepted it. Said I had his stubbornness, so at least I’d inherited something useful.”

The affection in his voice when he spoke about his father was unmistakable, even through the hurt.

“He’s going to be okay,” I said, even though I had no way of knowing that. “You’ll get there in time.”

“I hope so.” He was quiet for a moment, then turned to face me more fully

“Tell me about your marriage,” Nikolai said after a moment. “If you want to… I mean not to pry…”

I remembered that he had heard the conversation between Ethan and I back at the university.

Maybe it was the exhaustion or the fact that we were thirty thousand feet in the air or just that I needed to tell something, to let the burden off my chest.

I told him about the arranged marriage. About spending eight years feeling invisible in my own home. About Grace’s cruelty and Ethan’s indifference. About Anna and the baby and the slow, steady erosion of my self–worth until I’d become a ghost haunting my own life.

And I told him about leaving. About the brain tumor and the certainty that I was going to die and the desperate need to at least die as myself, not as the failed wife everyone wanted me to be.

Nikolai listened without interrupting, his expression growing darker with each revelation.

“You’re planning to divorce him,” he said when I finished. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” I said. “I should have done it three years ago. I should have done it the moment I landed in Paris and realized I was going to survive. But I just… didn’t”

“I did some research,” Nikolai continued, “After that confrontation at the university. I wanted to understand what I’d walked into. I was fucking curious to be honest. Eleven years of marriage,” Nikolai said quietly. “And the media knew almost nothing

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about your relationship. No romantic getaways. No anniversary celebrations. No photos of you looking like you were actually in love. The only events you attended together were obviously for business, Walker Industries functions. Networking galas. Professional obligations.”

I let out a small smile, because what was I supposed to say, he was right.

“You weren’t lovers,” Nikolai continued. “You were barely even partners. You were just… there. In the background. Invisible.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. “Stop.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said gently. “I’m trying to show you that leaving Missford then should never be something you regret.”

I wiped at my eyes roughly. “Yeah”

“Cynthia, I would really like to know you more. When my father is better… I’m flying back to Missford. And I’d like to see you again. Properly. Not just as colleagues.”

My heart did something complicated in my chest. “Nikolai…”

“I know the timing is terrible,” he said quickly. “I know you’re still married, still dealing with everything. I’m not asking for anything now. I’m just… putting it out there. I do not want to be too late”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“And about your restaurant,” he continued, his tone shifting to something more businesslike. “Don’t worry. My family has significant influence in Paris. My father has business relationships with half the city’s officials. I’ll make some calls as soon as we land. We’ll get this sorted out.”

“Nikolai, you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he interrupted. “Let me help. Please.”

The sincerity in his voice undid me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

The plane began its descent into Paris, my phone was still in airplane mode. I’d been avoiding turning it back on, avoiding seeing how many times Ethan had tried to call, how many messages he’d sent.

But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent into Charles de Gaulle Airport…”

I switched my phone back to normal mode.

It took exactly three seconds for the notifications to flood in.

7 missed calls from Ethan.

2 missed calls from Kevin.

1 missed calls from Julian.

1 missed calls from Nathaniel.

My hands were shaking as I opened Ethan’s messages, scrolling through them with growing horror.

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