7


    Sienna’s POV


    Liam stood not far from me, ring with a mix of anger and frustration, asking where I had <b>been</b><b>. </b>


    Had he forgotten what had happened to me just a few days <b>ago</b><b>? </b>


    I took a deep breath, exhausted, and let out <b>a </b>soft sigh.


    “I just got out of the hospital… because of the ident,” I said quietly, staring at him with deep disappointment.


    Liam paused for a fraction of a second. But not to process my words–only… surprised.


    Instead of instinctively apologizing, he asked impatiently,


    “What did the doctor say? You’re fine, right? Why were you in the hospital for so long?”


    I looked at <b>him</b>. Deeply.


    For the first time, I truly looked at the man who used to be my husband–not with eyes searching for affection<b>, </b>but for rity.


    Then Iughed. Bitter. Hollow. Augh that stabbed through my chest.


    “Too long, huh?” I whispered. “Maybe the injury on my head wasn’t that bad. But maybe… the wounds you can’t see are worse,


    Liam”


    He said nothing. No denial. No apology.


    Because to him, this was only about “Why did you take so long?“, not “Why wasn’t I there for you?”


    Tiny footsteps echoed from the stairs.


    “Noah!” I called out instinctively.


    Noah came down with his hair messy and wearing his favorite t–shirt. His eyes lit up when he saw me–only to turn into a frown of anger momentster.


    “Mommy!” he whined as he rushed toward me. “I’m hungry. I want to eat now!”


    I bent down slightly, wanting to touch his cheek. But he pulled away.


    “Mommy just got back from the hospital, sweetheart. I’m still very tired. Can you wait a bit?”


    “No!” he screamed. “Mommy’s mean! Mommy doesn’t love me anymore! If you loved me, you’d make me food right away!”


    I froze. My t


    tongue is stuck. The words were there, waiting to exin everything, but my mouth refused to move.


    Slowly, I turned my head.


    <b>Liam </b>was still standing there, <b>not </b>even trying to step in.


    <b>And </b>Emily… stood a few steps behind, partially hidden by the dining room wall. Her face was calm. A faint smile ying on her lips… as if she was enjoying every second of this.


    Their eyes… empty. Not one of them <b>stood </b>up for me.


    I looked down. Then slowly nodded.


    “Alright… Mommy will make you something to eat<b>,</b>” I whispered to Noah. “Wait in the dining room<b>, </b>okay?” (1


    Without waiting for anyone’s response<b>, </b>I turned and walked toward the kitchen.


    My steps were slow. But steady.


    The manuscript I had been gripping so tightly–I ced it on the kitchen counter, gently. As if it were something sacred.


    Let them see it.


    Let them <b>ask </bter.


    For now… I would cook. As usual. As if nothing <b>had </b>happened. Because in this house… <b>pain </b>isn’t real until someone leaves for good.


    I haven’t left. Not yet. But soon. And <b>when </b>that dayes, I will never look back.


    The smell of ck pepper beef began to fill the entire kitchen.


    Thin smoke rose from the pan, briefly clouding my vision. My <b>hands </b>moved steadily, adding oyster sauce<b>, </b>pepper, a touch of


    sweet soy sauce.


    <b>I </b>had already moved the soy–zed chicken to a small te with a dinosaur print–Noah’s favorite since he was a toddler. The color was still vibrant. But the sweet memories attached to it… had begun to fade.


    Sweat clung to my temples. My legs trembled from standing too long. But I had to finish. At the very least, they’d eat <b>dinner </b>tonight.


    I knew I should be resting.


    My body wasn’t fully healed yet.


    But in this house, exhaustion meant nothing.


    Here, I still had to be the mother. The wife. The servant who must never be wrong.


    Even when my world was falling apart inside <b>me</b>.


    <b>Once </b>everything was ready, I set the table. The ck pepper beef in the center. Stir–fried green beans beside it.


    Warm soy–zed chicken specially for Noah. I arranged the spoons and forks neatly, filled the water sses to the brim. Habits


    I still maintained, even as they slowly lost their meaning.


    “Let’s eat,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone else..


    It didn’t take long before everyone arrived.


    Footsteps echoed from the living room.


    Noah came first, running over and hopping onto his chair with a cheerful look.


    I was about to sit next to him, like I always did. My ce. My seat as Mommy.


    But Noah’s small hand gently pushed me away.


    “Don’t sit here, Mommy!” he said quickly.


    “I want to sit with Auntie Emily,” he added in a louder voice.


    I froze on the spot.


    Emily appeared shortly after, her steps light, her smile warm–but fake.


    She casually sat in


    in the empty seat next to Noah, greeting him with a soft voice.


    <b>“</b>Oh, you want Auntie to sit here? Gosh, you’re just the sweetest, Noah,” she said, ruffling his <b>hair</b>.


    I didn’t know how to react, Angry? Protest? <b>What </b>for?


    All <b>I </b><b>saw </b>was Liam at the end of the table, eyes fixed on his <b>food</b>, pretending nothing <b>had </b>happened.


    I took a breath, swallowed the lump in my <b>throat</b><b>, </b><b>and </b>sat down on the chair next to him. A chair I <b>never </b>used. Far from the ce <b>where </b>I used to belong


    I looked at my te. The ck pepper beef 1 had cooked with thest of my strength looked appetizing. But my tongue was numb. My stomach churned. My body only wanted to copse.