The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 32

[Mom, can you come see me? I'm sick, and I feel really awful.]

After sending the voice message, he lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he waited in silence.

Slowly, his vision blurred, and he drifted off to sleep.

Jillian had just finished showering and blow-drying her hair, planning to read an academic paper before bed.

When she checked her phone, she saw a voice message from her son.

She immediately played it, and the moment she heard his words, her blood ran cold, her mind going completely blank.

Connor was sick?!

Was no one there to take care of him?

Without a second thought, Jillian threw on some clothes, hailed a cab, and rushed to The Yale Residences.

The main gates were shut tight, but through the gaps, she could see the lights were still on inside the house.

Jillian frantically pressed the doorbell, but no one came to open the gate.

She waved desperately at the security camera, yet there was still no response.

She pulled out her phone and called Mrs. Zeller, but the call was declined.

She tried again, and it was declined again.

Left with no other choice, she called Killian.

Once, twice—no answer.

On the third try, the call finally connected.

"Killian, Connor is sick! Tell someone to open the gate and let me in," Jillian pleaded frantically.

Killian frowned deeply.

"Who is it?"

A woman's voice drifted through the receiver. It was Sylvia.

All the blood rushed to Jillian's head.

Her son was sick, and Killian was busy entertaining Sylvia.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

Jillian was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Killian, no matter how much you hate me, Connor is still your son..."

She begged, her voice breaking with sobs.

Killian hung up the phone and immediately called Mrs. Zeller.

"Sick?" Mrs. Zeller asked in shock, glancing at the security monitor where Jillian's frantic figure was visible.

"Not at all. Connor is perfectly fine. I gave him a bath, and he fell asleep right after."

"We can do it another day, then. You should get some rest too."

The moment she hung up, Jillian couldn't hold it in any longer and broke down sobbing.

Mrs. Zeller watched the security feed, curling her lip in disgust.

What a pathological liar!

To think she would lie about her own child being sick just to worm her way back into the house. It was sick.

The next morning, a sharp chill hung in the air.

Jillian's clothes were damp with dew. She groggily opened her eyes, raising a hand to shield them from the glaring sun.

It took her a moment to realize she had fallen asleep on a bench outside the estate.

Wait, Connor!

How was Connor?

She shot up, ignoring the numbness in her legs, and rushed to the main gate.

Peering through the wrought-iron bars, she saw Mrs. Zeller leading Connor outside.

Connor was in his kindergarten uniform, wearing his little backpack. His cheeks were a healthy pink in the morning sunlight, and he didn't look sick at all.

Jillian stared at him in a daze, her pale fingers gripping the black iron fence tightly.

So, he wasn't sick?