The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 11

Moonlight bathed the white villa as the study remained brightly lit.

Silas Xavier opened the door, carrying a tray, and gently set down a glass of milk and some fruit.

Sylvia Xavier kept her eyes glued to the data stream on her monitor, not bothering to turn around. "Dad, you should go get some rest."

Silas nodded. "Alright. Don't stay up too late."

"I know."

Staring at the back of Sylvia's head, a rush of warmth filled Silas's chest, and he reached out to affectionately ruffle her hair.

"You're unbelievable. You could be living the easy life of a trust fund heiress, yet you insist on putting yourself through this grind."

Sylvia paused her work and looked back at him with absolute seriousness. "Dad, that's such an outdated way of thinking. A woman has to have her own career. I'm not the type to rely on my parents or depend on a husband."

"Right, right, it's all my fault for being so old-fashioned and holding you back," Silas said, his face brimming with pure adoration.

Then he opened the door and stepped out.

The hallway lights were dim, the walls on both sides lined with his own paintings.

He took off his glasses and admired them casually, thinking about how he had gone from a struggling artist who couldn't sell a single canvas to the Dean of The Academy of Fine Arts.

His life had skyrocketed. The days of painting around the clock in a cramped, damp rental apartment felt like a distant memory.

Perhaps those early years had been too brutal, because he still occasionally dreamt of that dingy apartment. In those nightmares, the woman remained the same—complaining while doing chores—while his daughter, with her little pigtails, timidly presented her school certificates to him.

Whenever that happened, Silas would jolt awake. Realizing he was safe in his spacious, brightly lit villa, he would let out a long sigh of relief.

He had absolutely had enough of living like a beggar.

...

After dinner, Jillian Jarrett took Connor Quincy to the yard to burn off some energy.

Judith Jarrett and Lydia Lowell cleared the table.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" Lydia asked.

The two women switched to specialized hypoallergenic alternatives, washing everything by hand every single day.

Connor was constantly sick, keeping both women awake for nights on end. They took turns holding him, practically forgetting what a full night's sleep felt like.

On Connor's first birthday, Judith had excitedly prepared a special gift, only for Mrs. Zeller to mock her, sarcastically commenting that she had raised a clever daughter and would soon be leeching off them in their massive mansion.

Judith had her pride. After celebrating her grandson's birthday, she never set foot in The Yale Residences again.

When Connor was little, he clung to his grandmother. Whenever anyone asked who his favorite people were, he always said his grandma and his mom.

But as he grew older, he gravitated toward Killian's side of the family. Sienna Sterling had never spent a single day taking care of him, but she showered him with exorbitant gifts and let him eat whatever he wanted whenever he visited the main estate.

Naturally, he started to think Sienna was the one who treated him best.

"Mom..." Jillian murmured, feeling a twinge of guilt.

"He's just a kid. He's still young."

"It's good that he likes Sienna. I was actually worried he wouldn't bond with her, and she would accuse you of teaching him to hate her," Judith said with a comforting smile.