The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 72

#72

Chapter 72

Cynthia’s POV

I’d given up.

Sprawled across my bed, staring at the ceiling, I’d accepted that Ethan wasn’t going to respond. Maybe he’d blocked my number. Maybe he’d read my message and laughed. Maybe he’d shown it to Anna and they’d mocked me together.

Whatever. Fine. I’d figure out another way to see Amber.

My phone beeped.

I reached for it reluctantly, expecting another promotional message from the network.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Ethan.

Along message. Multiple paragraphs.

My heart started pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

[I am upset with you. Amber is disappointed and you crushed his heart. The least you could do is tell us you were unable to make it instead of keeping us waiting for three hours.]

Three hours?

They’d waited for three hours?

The guilt hit me like a wave. I knew I’d stood them up, but somehow the concrete reality of it–three hours of watching the door, three hours of hope slowly dying–made it so much worse.

I kept reading.

[I’m going to give you a chance to see Amber again because you are his mother, even though you are clearly distracted by your boyfriend.]

I rolled my eyes.

[By the way, I do not want to ever see that racer guy anywhere near my son.]

Oh, for God’s sake.

[I will allow you to see Amber on one condition. You are going to come over to the Walker mansion. Hoping to get feedback from

you].

I stared at that last part.

The Walker mansion.

He wanted me to come to the Walker mansion. The house where I’d spent eight miserable years. The house where Grace had tormented me and Anna had paraded around like she owned the place. The house where Ethan was now obviously sleeping with

Anna.

I didn’t know when I started laughing.

It bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, a bitter, incredulous laughter that echoed in my empty room.

How dare he?

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How dare he demand that I come crawling back to that house like some supplicant begging for scraps? How dare he set conditions on me seeing my own son? How dare he assume I was still that desperate, pathetic woman who would accept whatever crumbs he offered?

Why was it so difficult to see my own child?

I sat up, my jaw set with determination.

No. This wasn’t going to work on his terms.

He still thought I was that stupid wife from years ago. The one who would have accepted any indignity just to keep the peace. The one who would have thanked him for the privilege of being allowed in his presence.

That woman was dead. I’d killed her in Paris and rebuilt something stronger from the ashes.

Time to show Ethan Walker exactly who he was dealing with now.

I typed quickly.

[Let us meet.]

His response came within minutes.

[Send me an address.] 1

I scoffed at my phone. So commanding. So used to being obeyed.

I sent him the address of a restaurant in the center of Missford. Neutral territory. Public. A place where he couldn’t intimidate me and I couldn’t be ambushed by his mother or his girlfriend.

Time to confront Ethan and set things straight.

I got dressed quickly, something professional but powerful. A silk blouse, tailored pants, heels that added three inches to my height. War paint.

Then I grabbed the divorce envelope from my bedside table and tucked it into my bag.

This was it. Tonight, everything would be laid out on the table.

I stepped out of my room and headed down the hallway. The house seemed quiet, Nathaniel and Helen must have left for their matrimonial home, Kevin was probably still chasing Matilda at the club.

But as I passed the study, I heard Julian’s laughter.

I paused. Julian never laughed like that. Not the polite chuckle he used in social situations, but genuine, warm laughter.

I peeked through the partially open door.

Julian was sitting at the desk, his laptop open in front of him, smiling at the screen like it contained the secret to happiness. He was on a video call with someone, I could hear a muffled voice, though I couldn’t make out the words.

My curiosity spiked.

“Hmm…” I pushed the door open wider. “Is that a girl?”

Julian’s head snapped toward me, his eyes going wide with panic.

“Cynthia! I didn’t…this isn’t…”

“Why are you hiding her?” I teased, stepping closer. “Come on, let me see…”

What happened next defied all logic.

#72

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