The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 285

Chapter 285

Cynthia's POV

I was reviewing the final menu selections for the restaurant's soft opening when Bryan walked in.

Right on schedule, as he had been for the past few weeks. Almost every evening after work, Bryan would stop by, ostensibly to check on the progress of the restaurant, but really — I suspected to check on me.

"Hey," he said, offering a tired smile as he approached the table where I was working.

"Hey yourself," I replied, setting down the menu mock-ups. "Long day?"

"Aren't they all?" Bryan said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me. "How are you feeling?"

The question had become routine between us, but today, for the first time in months, my answer was different.

"Hopeful," I said, and I couldn't keep the smile from spreading across my face. "Really, genuinely hopeful, Bryan."

Bryan's expression shifted slightly, something flickering in his eyes that I couldn't quite read.

"The DNA results came back," I continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. "From that bushouse. It was Pascal's DNA. He's been living here in Missford this whole time. The police are mobilizing everything they have to find him. And when they find Pascal, they'll find…"

I stopped, my voice catching.

"They'll find Ethan," I finished quietly.

Bryan nodded slowly, but his expression remained carefully neutral.

"That's good news, Cici," he said, but his tone was flat in a way that made my enthusiasm falter slightly.

I studied his face, trying to understand his lack of reaction.

Bryan and Ethan had been best friends since high school. They'd been closer than brothers. When Ethan went missing, Bryan had been devastated… I'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice when he'd offered to help search.

So why wasn't he more excited now?

Then it hit me.

Bryan was protecting himself.

Just like my mother had been doing for months—refusing to get her hopes up, refusing to believe we might actually find Ethan alive, because the disappointment when we didn't would be too crushing.

Bryan had probably spent five months processing Ethan's likely death. Had probably made peace with it, in whatever way you make peace with losing your best friend.

And now here I was, asking him to hope again.

Asking him to risk that pain all over again.

"I know it's been a long time," I said gently. "And I know it's hard to believe we'll actually find him after all these months. But Bryan, this is real. This is the first solid lead we've had since…"

"I'm happy for you," Bryan interrupted, but his voice was strained. "I am. If anyone deserves good news, it's you."

The words felt wrong somehow.

Incomplete.

Like there was something else he wanted to say but couldn't.

Before I could press him on it, the door to the restaurant opened again.

And Nikolai walked in.

The change in atmosphere was immediate and tangible.

Like someone had flipped a switch, transforming the air from comfortable to tense in a fraction of a second.

Warmer.

"I heard the news," he said, and unlike Bryan, genuine excitement colored his voice.

I turned my attention to him, grateful for the enthusiasm I'd been expecting earlier.

"About Pascal?" I asked.

"About Pascal," Nikolai confirmed, leaning forward. DNA match from the bushouse. The police are treating it as an active lead again."

"They are," I said, feeling that surge of hope again. "Detective Susan said they're putting every available resource into finding him."

"That's incredible, Cynthia," Nikolai said, and he actually looked happy for me. "This could be it. This could finally be the break you've been waiting for."

"I know," I said, my hands trembling slightly as I clasped them together. "I'm trying not to get too excited, but…"

"No," Nikolai interrupted gently. "You should be excited. You should let yourself hope. After everything you've been through, you deserve that."

I blinked back sudden tears because Nikolai was right.

I did deserve to hope.

And unlike Bryan's measured caution or my mother's pessimistic protection, Nikolai was giving me permission to feel the full weight of this possibility.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Nikolai reached across the table and covered my hand with his.

"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "whatever they find… I'll be here. Okay?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.