Sienna’s POV


    This morning felt different.


    I woke up <b>earlier </b>than usual, even before the sun greeted my bedroom window. My body was still tired, but a strange, flickering energy stirred in my chest. Maybe it was because today… I wanted to give them onest beautiful memory. Something warm. Something sweet, even if I knew they might not remember it for long.


    I started by heating the oven, pulling out the marinated beef I’d prepared the night before. My hands moved swiftly in the kitchen, cooking one dish after another–each of their favorites. Stir–fried shrimp, egg corn soup, fresh sd, and Noah’s favorite: chicken wings. <b>I </b>even made stuffed sandwiches for ate–night snack.


    While the food was baking, I washed Noah’s favorite blue dinosaur nket. It had been a while, and I wanted him to sleep tonight wrapped in something clean and fragrant. Then I ordered a chocte cake from our usual bakery. It was meant for Noah’s uing birthday–but tonight, I just wanted there to be something sweet they could all enjoy.


    Iid out breakfast carefully on the dining table–sausages, eggs, toast, and chocte milk. I even added a small bowl of fresh fruit<b>, </b>something I hadn’t had time to do in a long while.


    As I was folding napkins beside the tes, I heard heavy footstepsing down the stairs. Liam appeared, looking tired<b>, </b>his eyes still not fully open.


    He stopped at the entrance to the dining room, nced at the table full of food, then at the half–messy kitchen. A frown formed. on his face.


    “Why so much food this early in the morning?” he asked tly.


    I looked up and tried to smile<b>, </b><b>even </b>though I knew he didn’t care to see it.


    “I just… wanted us all to have dinner together <b>tonight</b>,” I answered softly. “I thought–it’s been a while since we’ve all sat down at the same table. There’s something I want to say <b>too</b>.”


    Liam raised an eyebrow, pausing. “If you had something to say, why not bring it up before?” he replied, walking to the water dispenser and pouring himself a ss.


    ble. When it’s just


    I bit my bottom lip and looked at him directly. “I… I really do want to talk. But I’d like to say it tonight. At the table. When


    the three of us.”


    Liam gave a small nod, expression unreadable. “Alright. No ns tonight. I’ll eat at home.”


    A wave of quiet relief crept into my chest. His words were cold, but at least he’d be there. That was enough for me.


    He walked into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the counters and the pans I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet. His gaze stopped at the oven, which was starting to release the savory aroma of roasted meat.


    “<b>This</b>…” he said, pointing. “This is my favorite cut, isn’t it?”


    I nodded quickly, a momentary warmth blooming like a flower in winter<b>. </b>“Yes. I remember you like it roasted with honey and rosemary<b>.</b><b>” </b>


    He gave a slight nod, then pulled out a chair and sat. “Make me coffee,” he said inly.


    I rushed to the kitchen and made him a cup of ck coffee–no sugar, just how he liked it. My hand trembled slightly as I ced


    it in front of him. But <b>Liam </b>simply took it without looking at me, lifted the cup to his lips, and took a slow sip.


    Silence settled between us again. But I didn’t dare break it. Let the morning flow this way. I didn’t want to force a conversation- <b>afraid </b>his tone might return to what it had been yesterday.


    A small set of footstepsing down the stairs made me turn toward the sound.


    “<b>Noah</b>?” I called softly.


    <b>The </b>little boy appeared, wearing pajamas with his favorite robot print. His eyes still drowsy, <b>hair </b><b>tousled</b><b>, </b>and <b>face </b>nk. No smile. No morning hug like before.


    “Mommy… I want milk,” he said quietly.


    I moved quickly, grabbing a <b>ss </b>and pouring his favorite UHT milk. “Mommy’s getting it for you, sweetheart. Just a moment.” My hands moved instinctively, and without realizing it, I blew lightly on the rim of the ss–just like I <b>used </b><b>to</b><b>, </b>even though the <b>milk </b>wasn’t hot. I carried the ss to the table and ced it gently in front of Noah with a warm smile.


    “Noah, here’s your <b>milk</b>,” I said softly..


    He simply nodded, took a sip, and said nothing. No thank–you. No loving gaze like before.


    t.


    The painful quiet felt like a soft but <b>deep </b>stab. I knew… maybe I wasn’t the one he longed for anymore in the mornings. But still, it felt like losing something I had once held so tightly.


    I knelt down in front of him, gently stroking his little thigh<b>. </b>


    “Noah… do you want a bubble bath this morning? Mommy can make lots of bubbles. It’ll be fun,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.


    Noah’s eyes instantly lit up. <b>“</b>Bubble bath? Like during the holiday?”


    I nodded. “Yes, the one with the yellow duck too. Mommy still keeps it.”


    Noah beamed. For the first time this morning, that smile appeared, and like a warm ray in the middle of winter, it melted something inside me.


    But that smile wasn’t for me.


    “I’m gonna call Auntie Emily!” he shouted, jumping off his chair and running toward the <b>stairs</b>. “Auntie Emily! Let’s take a bubble bath! Mommy set it up!” he called out happily.


    The sound of his <b>small </b>footsteps echoed through the house. His knock on her door and cheerful voice were clear as day.


    I just stood there, frozen. My chest felt tight. A silent kind of ache. I should be happy–he was excited. I should feel proud that my little n to cheer him up worked.


    But why… why did it feel so suffocating?


    I turned to the bathroom, turned on the warm water, and started preparing the bath just like I promised. I poured in the kid- friendly soap with a fruity scent, added the bubble bath solution until the tub filled with soft foam. I ced the little yellow duck in the middle, letting it float among the mountain of white bubbles,


    “Mommy set it all up,” I whispered to myself.


    My hands tried to stay steady, but a subtle tremble betrayed me. I turned off the faucet slowly, then sat for a moment on the small bathroom stool, hugging my knees.


    <b>I </b>wanted to be <b>a </b>part of his joy this morning. But he chose Emily. Again.


    I had to ept it… with my head held high and a smile that stayed in ce.


    A <b>few </b>minutester, I heard their footsteps. Emily’s softughter <b>echoed </b><b>as </b>she told Noah to be careful. The bathroom door opened, and Noah squealed in delight at the sight of the bubble–filled tub.


    “<b>Look</b>, Auntie Emily!” he <b>said</b>.


    I turned with a faint <b>smile</b><b>. </b>“Come on in. Mommy already warmed the water.”


    Emily smiled politely. “Thanks, Sienna.”


    I just nodded. “<b>Enjoy </b>your bath, Noah.”


    Then I stood up <b>and </b>walked slowly out of the bathroom, letting the door close gently behind me.


    It wasn’t even night yet. But the tiny bruises had already begun to show, early in the day.


    I just hoped I’d be strong enough… at least until dinner<b>. </b>


    At least until everything was over.