Page 13 of The Rebel Heir

They all chuckled.

The eighty-year-old retired schoolteacher was a spitfire. They adored her.

“How is she doing?” Jillian asked.

“Better. The full-time nurse is great with both of us working,” Harry said.

“We worry a lot less about her being home alone, so thenurseis a huge help,” her mom told her. “And thank you for your help with the cost, Jillie. I’m proud of you for taking on that responsibility.”

“No worries. We’re family. It’s what we do,” she assured them.

“Why aren’t you at work?” Nora asked as she licked the tip of her thumb and swiped at something on her husband’s cheek.

“The restaurant is closed on Mondays,” she explained, fighting the urge to rub her eyes since she was wearing her contacts.

Her brow furrowed when her father pressed a kiss to her mother’s palm and they shared a look.

Jillian moaned, having seen that look a million times during her childhood and knowing a kiss was next. Just sickeningly sweet.

“Let me let y’all go,” she said, zooming her finger in on the button to end the call.

“Bye,” they said in unison just before the screen went black.

She released a heavy breath and dropped her phone onto the sofa. The silence of the apartment echoed. She leaned forward to pick up the remote from the leather ottoman serving as a coffee table to turn on the wall-mounted television.

Nothing held her attention.

And everything seemed to remind her of Cole.

A romantic movie where the couple shared a kiss.

Cole was an excellent kisser.

She switched the channel.

Click, click.

A commercial for soap.

Jillian smiled, remembering them squeezing into her small tub together to share a bubble bath.

She frowned and raised the remote.

Click, click.

A weather news story about a string of rainy days ahead.

I remember that weekend at my apartment when we stayed inside, cooked for each other, and had the most amazing rainy-day sex.

She shook her head to clear it of the steamy memories.

Click, click.

This time she turned the television off. She couldn’t escape her thoughts ofhim. Cole. Cole. Cole. Cole.

She looked down at her phone.

Don’t do it. Move on. You made your choice. Live with it. And stay off his Instagram.

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