The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 38

Connor sat on Killian's right, happily swinging his little legs.

Jillian scanned the table and took the seat next to Connor.

"Mom, wash hands."

In the past, Jillian had relentlessly drilled the habit of washing hands before and after meals into Connor's head, always guiding him to the sink herself.

There was a private restroom right inside the dining room.

Jillian pushed the door open and gestured for Connor to go inside.

Connor looked at her in confusion, his eyes silently asking, Aren't you coming with me?

Jillian didn't move.

Connor turned the faucet on by himself and scrubbed his hands thoroughly.

Watching him try so hard to be a good boy, Jillian remembered how, in the past, he would splash water everywhere whenever she washed his hands for him.

It seemed that letting go was the right choice.

They returned to the table.

Killian ate his food in silence, while Connor dug into his kid's meal.

Connor loved fish, and since he was a baby, Jillian had always carefully picked the bones out of his fish for him.

As she was preparing his plate, she heard Connor whisper, "Dad."

Killian turned his head slightly. "Hmm?"

"Does Mom know she made a mistake yet?"

Killian said nothing.

Natalie's birthday party had come and gone. Jillian hadn't shown up, and she certainly hadn't apologized.

As for how they explained her absence to the main estate, that wasn't Jillian's problem.

Seeing that Killian wasn't answering,

Connor pressed on, "Did you forgive Mom yet?"

He was desperate for an answer.

Because that answer determined when his mom could finally come home.

Without her, his daily routine was a total disaster. Mrs. Zeller doted on him, but she was old.

The songs she sang were ancient, and the stories she told were boring.

There were younger maids in the house,

but none of them could help him build Lego sets, practice his English, do his brain-training puzzles, or teach him how to paint.

The incident was over, allowing her to speak about it with rational calmness.

But when it happened, the sheer agony of being manipulated and shut out was something no one else could possibly understand.

Connor blinked in pure confusion. "I didn't..."

Jillian gave him a long, hard look.

She had cared for him day and night, raising him from a helpless infant into the four-year-old boy he was today.

No one in the world knew Connor better than she did.

He clearly remembered what he did, but he just didn't want to admit it.

Playing dumb was just another form of lying.

So, Jillian pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.

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

His own voice played from the speaker, loud and crystal clear.

Connor froze in shock.

For the first time in his small life, he experienced the undeniable weight of hard evidence.