The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 20

A violent gust of wind ripped through the street, snapping the fragile umbrella inside out.

She was left completely exposed to the torrential downpour.

Blinding headlights slashed through the darkness behind her. Speeding cars kicked up massive waves of dirty street water, not a single one slowing down as they callously roared past her.

Jillian wrapped her arms tightly around herself, letting out a hollow, bitter laugh.

She really was just a joke—a pathetic punchline completely abandoned by the entire world.

Eventually, the punishing rain began to ease into a steady drizzle.

A sleek black Rolls-Royce suddenly accelerated from behind her.

With a sharp screech of brakes, it pulled over just a few feet ahead of her, its hazard lights flashing.

Staring through the misty rain, Jillian's eyes widened the second she recognized the license plate.

It was Killian's car.

She took two hesitant steps forward. She could see the driver's side window was cracked open slightly, the fractured streetlights perfectly outlining the striking, sharp contours of the man sitting behind the wheel.

Killian had his elbow resting against the window frame.

Perhaps the car felt stuffy, and he had rolled it down for some fresh air.

Jillian couldn't quite believe her own eyes.

"Stay right there, I'm coming to get you," Killian said smoothly into his phone.

Without missing a beat, he turned his head and rolled the window back up. In that split second before the glass sealed shut, his indifferent gaze swept right past her.

Jillian wasn't even sure if he had registered she was standing there.

The Rolls-Royce didn't linger. The moment the traffic light flipped to green, the engine purred, and it sped away into the night.

Jillian tilted her head up. The freezing rain felt like thousands of icy needles driving straight into her heart.

This city was massive, yet there was absolutely nowhere left for her to go.

Just as she was about to force her legs to keep walking, an Aston Martin swerved to a sudden stop right in front of her.

Daniel Langley stepped out, instantly opening an umbrella.

"Jillian? Is that really you?"

Once she was finally inside the car, Jillian began to feel a faint trace of warmth.

Her soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, freezing and heavy.

She had also offered to just check into a hotel, but Daniel flat-out refused to let her.

"There's a full bathroom right inside. You're completely soaked, so go take a hot shower right away before you catch a fever."

Daniel easily carried her dripping suitcase inside for her.

Water had soaked through the fabric, but thankfully, all her clothes were packed inside waterproof bags.

Jillian managed to pull out a dry set of clothes.

Giving her complete privacy, Daniel stepped out into the living room.

"Just settle in here for now. If you need absolutely anything, call me."

By the time Jillian stepped out of the bathroom, he was already gone.

Sitting cleanly on the living room coffee table were antiseptic swabs, iodine, and fresh bandages—he had clearly remembered the gash on her knee needed to be redressed after her shower and had left them specifically for her.

Jillian threw her soaked clothes into the washer, walked over to the sofa, and curled her legs up to her chest.

The rain outside had finally died down to a soft, rhythmic tapping against the glass.

Wrapped in the quiet safety of the apartment, she eventually slipped into a deep sleep.