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17kNovel > Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left > Sincerity 19

Sincerity 19

    Her question made me freeze, my hand halfway to the fries. I turned to her, then slowly shook my <b>head </b>as I picked up a single <b>fry </b>and popped it in <b>my </b>mouth.


    “They don’t need to know,” I said lightly, even though my chest felt anything but light. “In fact… they can’t know.”


    Liliana sighed. Her gaze was now a mixture of confusion and concern.


    “How are you still surviving in that house?” she asked, incredulous. “After everything they’ve done to you?”


    She paused, then leaned in slightly, ncing left and right like she was plotting something criminal, before whispering:


    “Even with star–of–the–show Emily living under your roof?”


    I let out a smallugh. I don’t know why, but that sentence sounded oddly funny to me–like Emily was some huge celebrity crashing in my tiny rented room. I straightened my back and said, half–mocking, “I’m not Emily’s fan. So why should I be bothered?”


    Liliana immediately pped my arm lightly. “Ugh, that’s not what I meant, Sienna!” she protested, folding her arms. “I just don’t get it… how deep can you bury everything on your own? Liam hurt you, and now Noah even prefers her. And she’s here. I your house. In your space. Near your husband. Near your son. Like-”


    “Like she’s recing me?” I cut in, finishing the sentence Liliana couldn’t bear to say. I took a deep breath. “I know. I’m aware of everything. But I also know there are only four <b>days </b>left.”


    I leaned back in my chair, gazing up at the sky that was still cloaked in darkness. Even the streetlights seemed reluctant to light. up tonight. “After that… it’ll all just be the past. I don’t want to leave this ce full of anger or carrying a grudge. I just want to go peacefully. Quietly… without anyone trying to stop me.”


    Liliana didn’t respond right away. She just stared at me for a while–maybe searching for whatever strength might still remain on my face, a face I myself was tired of seeing in the mirror.


    “You’re not alone,” she finally said. “If one day it bes too much… remember, I’m always here for you. All you need is one word. One signal. I’lle.”


    I looked at her and smiled. A faint smile, but genuine. “Thank you. But tonight, let’s just enjoy our food. However messed up tomorrow might be, <b>tonight</b>… I just <b>want </b>tough <b>with </b>you.


    She <b>smiled </b>and raised her stic cup. “Deal. But finish your fries first. No leftovers!”


    I chuckled softly, feeling just a bit lighter. Even though my heart was still full of wounds, tonight I could pretend–just for a moment that everything was okay, with the one person who still saw my worth.


    A few hourster, I stepped out of Liliana’s car slowly. She waved before driving off down the quiet street. I opened the front door gently. The living room light was still on. The sound of the TV upstairs hummed faintly. I thought everyone <b>would </b>be asleep by now and maybe that was for the best. I wanted this night to end without another scene.


    But my steps halted as I passed through the living room. Something felt different. My eyes scanned the wall that had always been covered with framed photographs. I walked slowly, needing to be sure I <b>wasn’t </b>imagining it.


    Empty.


    There <b>was </b>a nk space.


    A whole row of photos <b>was </b>gone.


    <b>Suddenly</b>, my chest tightened. I turned toward it, heart pounding. I knew exactly which photos used to hang there. Our family <b>photos</b>. Noah’s birthday party–when I baked his cake myself. Pictures that proved I once existed in this home.


    Now? All of them were gone. Reced with new frames. Photos of Liam, Noah, and… Emily.


    19


    Sienna’s POV


    This morning I woke up with a pounding headache and erratic breath. It felt as though I’d been trapped in a never–<b>ending </b>nightmare all night. But I had no time toin. My eyesnded on the phone vibrating on the table–its screen lit up with a <b>message </b>from the parents‘ group.


    [Invitation for parents this morning at 8 a.m. Your attendance is requested.]


    My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. It <b>was </b>already 8:12.


    Without even brushing my hair properly, I grabbed my bag and jacket and ran down the stairs. I didn’t even <b>nce </b>at the living room–not that it mattered whether anyone noticed I was leaving or not. I drove in a panic, weaving through the morning traffic, hoping the teachers were still there, hoping I wasn’t toote.


    My car sped through the crawlingnes of traffic. Horns red around me, heightening my anxiety. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my palms damp with cold sweat. I kept ncing at the clock on the dashboard–8:17. Why am I alwayste for the things that matter most? Why can’t I be the kind of mother who’s always on time, who responds to school messages before thest second?


    Sunlight pierced through the windshield, stinging my tired eyes. I blinked quickly, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness<b>. </b>The roads near the school were crowded with motorcycles and pedestrians darting across without warning. I had to m on the brakes as a little boy dragged his backpack across the street in front of <b>me</b><b>. </b>


    “Focus, Sienna… focus…” I muttered under my breath, trying to calm the storm inside my chest.


    I pressed down on the gas a bit more as I entered the residential area near the school. I saw a few parents walking with folders of their children’s documents. They looked neat, calm, prepared–theplete opposite of me, who hadn’t even touched face powder or done anything with my hair.


    I slowed the car near the now–quiet school gate. A few teachers were talking with the guards in front of the auditorium. I parked in a rush, realizing only then that I’d forgotten to bring Noah’s folder that I had prepared the night before on the dining table. I felt like pping my own forehead.


    After turning off the engine, I sat still for a moment and took a deep breath. I had to be strong. I had <b>to </b>go inside and show that I was still here for Noah–even if everything else <b>had </b>already fallen apart.


    But hope was <b>just </b>that–hope.


    By the time I reached the school gate, only the echoes of children heading to <b>ss </b>remained. The other parents‘ cars were long gone. I stepped out, breathing heavily, rushing through the yard until I spotted one of the teachers at the entrance.


    “Ms. Ayu<b>!</b>” I called out.


    She turned and gave me a tight smile. “Oh, Mrs.


    sienna.”


    I tried to catch my breath. <b>“</b>I’m sorry I’mte. I only just saw the message in the group. The parent meeting–am I toote to join?”


    Ms. Ayu looked a bit awkward. “I’m sorry, ma’am… but I already met with Noah’s guardian earlier.”


    My brow furrowed<b>. </b>“Met? But I <b>haven’t </b>arrived yet.)


    “Um…” She offered a faint smile. “Ms. Emily came instead. She said she was representing Noah’s parents. Since we know she lives in the same house<b>, </b>we assumed it had all been arranged.”


    “I <b>see </b>


    <b>и </b>


    “No, it’s fine,” 1 interrupted gently, trying to smile even though it felt like I’d <b>just </b>been pped with yet another brutal truth.


    Ms. Ayu continued kindly, “If you’d like, I can send you a summary of the meeting via email. It was mostly about learning assessments and preparations for next week’s performance.”


    I nodded, murmuring my thanks.


    I turned to leave the gate, but there was a tightness in my chest that wouldn’t go away. Emily… came as Noah’s guardian? She hadn’t <b>even </b>told me. Or more urately–she didn’t feel the need to.


    I walked toward my car, trying to process what Ms. Ayu <b>had </b>just said. Emily came as Noah’s guardian. Without my <b>knowledge</b>. Without my permission. And it was as if everyone was beginning to ept that she was now… my recement.


    My <b>hand</b><b>, </b>which had been gripping the car door handle<b>, </b>slowly loosened. My whole body sagged slightly, as if my bones <b>couldn’t</b>. support the weight pressing down on my chest anymore. But before I could climb inside<b>, </b>the sound of footsteps and faintughter snapped me out of my daze.


    I turned.


    Liam and Emily walked side by side from the school lobby. Liam still wore his crisp blue shirt, holding a folder in one <b>hand </b>and car keys in the other. Emily smiled faintly, sunsses perched on her head<b>, </b>a stylish handbag hanging neatly on her arm.


    They paused when they saw me.


    <b>Liam </b>clicked his tongue. His expression wasn’t surprised or awkward–just cold <b>and </b>slightly disgusted.


    “What are <b>you </b>doing here?” he asked sharply.


    I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say.


    He spoke again before I could answer. “Did youe just to create a <b>scene</b>? This is pathetic, Sienna.”


    My heart felt like it was being crushed. I stood frozen, staring at the man who once wiped away my tears, now tearing apart my dignity without hesitation


    “Everyone else already left, but here you are, acting like you don’t know your ce,” he continued. “You do realize, don’t you, that from now on, <b>anything </b>to do with Noah is Emily’s responsibility?”


    My eyes widened. His words struck me like a <b>whip</b>–merciless, straight to the heart.


    Emily gave a sheepish smile. “Sienna… I’m sorry, I should’ve let you know. But everything happened so quickly-


    <b>I </b>off sham


    “Emily,” Liam cut her off sharply, turning to her. “No need to apologize. She’s the one who should know her ce.”


    Emily immediately fell silent. Her smile vanished.
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