Sincerity 28_Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left

Sienna’s POV

 Evening came faster than I expected. 

 The aroma of roasted meat filled the kitchen, blending with the sweet scent of soup that I’d kept warm on the small stove. The chocte cake I had ordered earlier was already ced carefully on the serving te, decorated with a thinyer of cream and dark chocte shavings around the edges. I even had time to iron the white cloth napkins, hoping they would add a touch of elegance to tonight’s dinner table.

 Everything was almost ready.

 The table was full. Dishes Liam loved were all there–ck pepper beef, fresh sd with lemon dressing, and warm soup. For Noah, I made his favorite dinosaur–shaped chicken nuggets, creamy cheese pasta, and even a strawberry milkshake, just like the ones I used to make for his birthday.

 My hands moved steadily, arranging the utensils piece by piece. Spoons lined up beside forks, napkins tucked neatly under the tes. A small candle stood at the center of the table, lit earlier as I tried to create a warm, gentle glow.

 And in the middle of it all, I smiled. Tired, but content.

 Tonight… was thest night.

 I took a deep breath, imagining the three of us sitting together, sharing a peaceful dinner. And maybe–without saying it aloud

 -1 could finally say goodbye.

 But then I heard footstepsing down the stairs..

 I froze. 

 Liam appeared in a crisp ck suit. A navy tie was neatly knotted around his neck. Behind him, Emily walked gracefully in a deep red satin dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair was pinned up, a glittering ne hanging around her neck.

 Noah…

 He wore a small cored shirt with a light blue vest. His hair was neatlybed.

 I stood motionless at the edge of the kitchen, breath caught in my throat.

 They looked like a picture–perfect family heading to an important event. So different from the hopeful dinner table I had just finished setting behind me.

 “Where are you going?” I asked quietly.

 Liam didn’t answer right away.

 Then a voice cut through.

 “Mommy’s just jealous!” Noah said loudly. “She always is! Aunt Emily is taking us to a cool ce, and Mommy just wants to stay home and cook boring food! I’m tired of eating here!” 

 His words hit me like a storm.

 I turned slowly to look at him–the little boy who used to want to sit on myp during dinner, who once begged me to read him bedtime stories. Now… he looked at me like I was in the way. Like I didn’t belong in the happiness he’d found with someone else.

 “Aunt Emily’s better! She doesn’t say no to everything. Mommy’s always nagging!” he continued.

 I held my breath. Swallowed the sting in my chest.

 My brow furrowed slightly. I walked slowly toward the dining table.

 I nced over everything I’d prepared. The flickering candle, the fresh aroma of the food–everything suddenly felt hollow. Liam gave me a brief look but said nothing. Then he turned to Noah and said, “Let’s go.

 Noah cheered. “Yay! Sushi and robot show!”

 Their footsteps faded. The front door opened. Then closed.

 I stood alone in the dining room. The soft glow of the sunset filtered through the window, casting faint reflections across the spoons and sses.

 I had prepared a farewell. I just didn’t expect the farewell toe earlier than nned.

 None of them knew this was supposed to be ourst dinner together. Not just any dinner. But the night I wanted to say goodbye -without actually saying it.

 I slowly sat down in the chair I once shared with them. Now, it felt empty. Quiet. Lifeless.

 The tes were half–full. Rice gone cold. Slices of untouched salmon. A bowl of miso soup, its warmth long faded. I had reheated it twice this afternoon, hoping everything would taste just right. I wanted them to feel that the table could still be warm, like it used to be. But in the end, I was the one left behind.

 My hands moved slowly, clearing the dishes one by one-as if erasing thest traces of what we once were. My fingers trembled when I touched Noah’s little bowl–the one he had carved in kindergarten with crooked letters: I love Mommy. He used to insist I be the one to pour his soup. “It tastes different if it’s not from Mommy,” he once said.

 Today, he didn’t even look at me.

 I know I was the one who pulled away first. But I thought I still had time to make things right. I thought the wounds I caused could still be healed with sincerity. But maybe not. Maybe I waited too long to be part of their lives again.

 As I carried the tes into the kitchen, my foot almost slipped on the slightly damp floor. I grabbed the edge of the counter, then let out a smallugh augh that sounded more like a sob. How ironic… even the floor seemed unwilling to let me stay here any longer. As if everything in this house wanted me gone.

 I washed the dishes in silence. There was no sound but the gentle trickle of water and the soft clinking of spoons bumping against each other. I thought, maybe this is what it feels like to be a ghost. Present, but unseen. Alive, but not truly acknowledged. And strangely… I was starting to get used to the quiet.

 In that stillness, I nced at the clock.

 Seven twelve.

 They were probably just arriving at the restaurant. Noah must be excited, pointing at pictures of his favorite sushi. Emily would help him choose. Liam would order green tea as he always did, then smile at them. That smile I once could read just by looking into his eyes.

 I closed mine.

 If I disappeared tonight, would they even notice?

 Or… maybe no one would really look for me until morning. 

 I walked slowly down the hallway toward Noah’s room. Quiet. Only the faint ticking of the wall clock could be heard–counting down the seconds to a solitude that grew heavier with each breath.

17kNovel

Sincerity 28