The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 9

Mrs. Zeller rushed over and quickly pulled Connor away.

"Stay out of my sight tonight. I don't want to look at you," Killian ordered.

Jillian nodded and turned to head upstairs.

He had been sleeping in a separate room for ages anyway; even when he was home, he wouldn't share her bed.

Back in her bedroom, Jillian pulled a notebook from her drawer and flipped it open.

The pages were covered in densely packed tally marks. Every time Killian broke her heart, she recorded another stroke.

She picked up a pen, fully intending to add another mark.

Yet her hand froze in mid-air. Instead of writing, she ran her fingertips over the thick clusters of ink, the indented paper feeling cold to the touch.

So over these five years, Killian had broken her heart this many times.

And here she was, Jillian Jarrett, approaching thirty, having achieved absolutely nothing in life aside from giving birth to a child.

And now she was still sitting here, obsessively logging every time a man hurt her.

At seventeen, it might have been considered cute.

But at twenty-seven, it was just pathetic.

So pathetic it was almost laughable.

Jillian snapped the notebook shut, walked into the study, and ripped the pages out one by one, feeding them into the paper shredder.

Tiny scraps of paper drifted down from the machine, falling like a quiet flurry of snow.

One piece got jammed. As she reached out to flick it loose, her fingernail caught on the metal blade, painfully tearing the nail from the nail bed. She gasped sharply in pain.

The door pushed open, revealing Killian. "What are you doing?"

Her face pale, Jillian gripped her injured finger tightly. "Nothing."

"Who said you could come in here?"

Suddenly, Jillian just didn't want to speak anymore.

No matter what she said or did, Killian only ever responded with icy disgust.

Even if she told him she was bleeding, he'd probably just sneer and say she deserved it.

Without a word, she stood up, walked straight past him, and pulled the door shut behind her with a heavy thud.

Killian turned, staring blankly at the closed door.

She had always been a recognized prodigy in her field. Despite never having held a corporate job, her brilliant mind adapted rapidly to the new environment.

Furthermore, she hadn't completely abandoned her studies over the past five years, always keeping up with the industry's most cutting-edge developments.

Before she knew it, a week had flown by.

On Friday afternoon, Jillian left work early to pick up Connor, then drove straight to Judith's house.

Her childhood home was a two-story red-brick house tucked away in an alley miles from the city center. Though old, it was immaculately kept, and the balcony was overflowing with colorful flowers that could be seen from down the street.

Begonias grew in the front yard, their vibrant pink petals peeking out from the fresh green leaves, creating a wonderfully refreshing scent.

As Jillian led her son inside, the mouthwatering aroma of Glazed Spare Ribs immediately hit her.

Judith Jarrett walked out from the living room.

Connor greeted her politely. "Grandma."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Judith happily pulled him into a warm hug, showering his cheeks with kisses and ruffling his hair, utterly mesmerized by her grandson.

"Come on in! We knew you were coming, so Lydia started cooking early. It's all your favorites," Judith said, beaming.

Jillian took her son to the courtyard sink to wash their hands, catching a glimpse of Lydia Lowell bustling around the kitchen.