The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 30

Eleanor frowned at her. "Why is that?"

"Because there's no way she's floating on her own."

The fat joke hung aggressively in the air.

Sienna gave her daughter a warning tap, silently telling her to shut up.

Eleanor, oblivious to Natalie's venom, looked back at Jillian.

"Since when do you swim? You've never mentioned it."

"I wouldn't say I like it. I'm just trying to get into shape," Jillian replied.

"Right. You definitely need to get your health in order. Connor is getting older. It's the perfect time to start trying for a second child."

Jillian's head snapped up in sheer horror, her eyes darting to Killian.

A flash of raw, humiliating fury ignited in Killian's dark eyes.

Every single person at that table knew exactly how Connor had been conceived.

"Wow, Killian. Sometimes I just feel so, so sorry for you," Natalie drawled with exaggerated pity.

"Watch your mouth," Sienna hissed, glaring at her daughter.

"Connor, sweetheart, do you want a little brother or a little sister?" Eleanor asked with a grandmotherly smile.

Connor was already in a foul mood.

He hadn't seen his mother in nearly a week.

And when she finally showed up tonight, she hadn't even looked happy or relieved to see him.

Now they were threatening him with a sibling?

He didn't want anyone else!

He wanted his father's attention, his mother's attention, and all the family's love to belong exclusively to him.

"I don't want either!" Connor shouted angrily.

The family laughed it off, assuming it was just a typical childhood tantrum.

Only Jillian looked at the boy with deep, silent worry.

After dinner, Eleanor insisted they spend the night at the estate.

Killian refused outright.

But Connor threw a fit to stay, so Killian left him to spend the weekend, planning to have the driver take him straight to kindergarten on Monday.

"I was serious about that second child. Talk it over with Killian when you get home," Eleanor instructed, patting Jillian's hand as they walked to the door.

Jillian slid into the passenger seat and pulled the seatbelt across her chest.

The car glided smoothly away from the sprawling estate.

She's getting thoroughly taken care of by Mr. Quincy.

...

A grotesque, hyper-explicit image burned itself into her retinas.

Jillian's stomach violently heaved. She clamped a hand over her mouth, gagging forcefully.

The Rolls-Royce screeched to a halt on the shoulder.

Jillian scrambled out, threw herself into the roadside bushes, and vomited violently.

She had barely eaten at dinner, so she spent agonizing minutes dry-heaving acidic bile into the dirt.

Killian stood behind her, leaning casually against the luxury car, his eyes narrowed in pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Find your own way back."

Without waiting for her to catch her breath, he slid back into the driver's seat.

Slam.

The Rolls-Royce roared to life, shooting down the empty highway like a predator released from a cage, disappearing into the night.

Jillian sat slumped on the curb. It took her a long, miserable time to finally stop shaking.

It was just so... sickening.