The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 89

Cynthia’s POV

We were the first to meet with Mrs. Pierre in the Grade 6 classroom.

“I’d leave you guys to it then” Mrs. Sam said as she walked out of the class

Mrs. Pierre sat behind her desk, a warm smile on her face as she gestured for us to take the seats across from her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Walker, thank you for coming,” she continue, adjusting her reading glasses. “It’s wonderful to see both of you here together.”

The emphasis on “together” wasn’t lost on me. Clearly, the school staff knew about our separation.

“Amber speaks of you often,” Mrs. Pierre said softly, her eyes settling on me with a knowing gentleness.

My heart fluttered. “He does?”

“Oh yes. Quite fondly.” She smiled. “He tells the class about your cooking most especially, he wouldn’t agree that anyone cooks better than his mom.” 1

I gave a shy chuckle.

“He’s right‘ Ethan said, glancing over at me.

I refused to look at him, I just maintained my eyes on Mrs. Pierre who just kept smiling.

Mrs. Pierre was talking about random things Amber had been involved in, in school when the door swung open without as much as a knock.

Mrs. Rasker.

She strode in like she owned the place, and her expression was dripping with false sweetness that didn’t reach her cold eyes.

“How is my Lillian doing, please?” she asked, her voice loud and imperious, completely ignoring the fact that a meeting was already in progress.

Mrs. Pierre’s welcoming expression faltered. “Mrs.. Rasker, as you can see, I’m currently…”

But Mrs. Rasker wasn’t listening. Her eyes had landed on me, and I watched her smile turn sharp and predatory. Her gaze raked over me with barely concealed disdain.

“Is she being bullied by that boy whose mother abandoned him?”

I felt the blood drain from my face, shock and fury warring inside me. That boy whose mother abandoned him. She was talking about Amber. My Amber.

I felt Ethan stiffen behind me, his hand gripping the armrest of his chair, trying to hold himself from doing something, funny,

“How dare you…” I started, my voice shaking with rage.

But before either of us could respond properly, the classroom door opened again, and Mrs. Sam stepped into the room. Her timing was impeccable, and from the steel in her eyes, I suspected she’d heard exactly what Mrs. Rasker had said.

“Mrs. Rasker.” Her voice was absolute. “I will not tolerate that kind of language in this school. Not in my classrooms, not in my hallways, not anywhere on these premises.”

Mrs. Rasker’s mouth fell open in shock. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. She was probably accustomed to her wealth and social position insulating her from consequences.

1/3

#89

+30 Bonus

“I was merely asking about my daughter’s welfare…” Mrs. Rasker began, her voice taking on an indignant edge.

“You were being cruel and inappropriate,” Mrs. Sam interrupted, her voice never rising but somehow filling the entire room with authority. “If you are here to inquire about Lillian’s class performance, you will do so with courtesy and respect for all our students and their families. And you will wait outside like the other parents for your scheduled turn.”

Mrs. Sam’s expression didn’t waver. She stood like a wall between Mrs. Rasker and us, her posture radiating in a way that comes from years of dealing with entitled parents who thought rules didn’t apply to them.

For a long moment, silence was thick with tension.

Mrs. Rasker’s face had gone red, then she exhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes swept the room one more time, landing briefly on me with a look of pure venom before she turned on her heel.

Without another word, she walked out.

Mrs. Sam turned to us, her expression softening immediately. She gave me a small, reassuring smile that made me fall in love with her immensely.

“I apologize for that interruption,” she said. “Some parents forget that this is an educational institution, not their personal kingdom. Please know that we take bullying very seriously here, and that includes bullying from parents.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice still slightly unsteady. “I appreciate you standing up for my son.”

“It’s my job,” Mrs. Sam said simply.

She glanced at Ethan, who nodded his gratitude, still looking like he wanted to chase Mrs. Rasker down and give her a piece of

his mind.

“I’ll leave you to speak with Mrs. Pierre privately now,” Mrs. Sam continued. “Take your time. And again, I’m sorry for the disruption.”

The door closed behind her with a soft click, and the room felt instantly lighter, as if Mrs. Rasker had taken all the negative energy with her.

Mrs. Pierre let out a long breath and shook her head. “Well. That was certainly… something.” She looked at me apologetically. ” I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Mrs. Rasker has been… challenging this year.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, though my hands were still shaking slightly in my lap.

“Well then.” Mrs. Pierre straightened some papers on her desk, clearly trying to restore the professional atmosphere. “Shall we discuss Amber?”

Mrs. Pierre pulled out Amber’s file and walked us through his academic progress.

She discussed his behavioral issues with sensitivity and compassion, acknowledging that children often act out when dealing with emotional turmoil at home. Amber had gotten into a few fights, mostly when other kids mentioned his mother being gone. He’d been defiant with some teachers, withdrawn with others.

“He needs stability,” she said kindly, looking between Ethan and me. “Consistency. Knowing that both his parents are present and invested in his life. Children his age need to feel secure in their family structure, whatever form that takes.”

The implication was clear: it didn’t matter if Ethan and I were together, as long as we were both consistently present for Amber.

“We understand,” I said firmly, “We’re committed to working on that.”

Ethan nodded in agreement beside me. “Whatever Amber needs.”

We thanked Mrs. Pierre and left the classroom, making our way down the corridor toward the waiting area where parents gathered to collect their children after the meetings concluded.

2/3

#189

+30 Bonus

The common room was upstairs, and Amber would be coming down soon with the other students. We found seats on a wooden bench near the staircase and waited, the sounds of distant children’s laughter and movement filtering down from above.

Silence stretched between us, uncomfortable, loaded with things unsaid.

Then Ethan broke it.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify