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2026-01-02 01:42:15Sienna's POV
At the table in the living room, Noah sat intently with scissors and tape beside him. Light blue wrapping paper was spread out, and one by one the items we had bought earlier were neatly grouped together: pencil case, notebooks, colored pencils, uniform, bag, new shoes, and a few other small things.He wrote Bam’s name on each little card he tucked in. His face was serious, as if he were carrying out an important mission.I glanced at him while stirring a pot of creamy chicken soup in the kitchen. The warm aroma slowly filled the air, making the house feel cozier and more alive. It was comforting after a long day outside to know there was no need to see anyone else, no challenging stares, no sharp comments.Every so often, Noah adjusted the ribbon on one of the gifts, then called out to me.“Mommy, does this look good?” he asked, pointing at a slightly crooked bow.I chuckled softly. “It looks great. Bam will definitely be happy.”Noah smil
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Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 270
Sienna's POV From the living room, the sound of tape being slowly pulled echoed, then stopped. “Mommy,” Noah called again, this time more softly. There was a hint of hesitation in his voice that made me turn right away.“Yes, sweetheart?”“Is one card enough?” He appeared in the doorway, holding a small card with Bam’s name written on it in slightly crooked letters. “I’m afraid it might be too much.”I crouched in front of him, bringing my eyes level with his. “One is enough. What matters is the intention.”He nodded, relieved. “Should I write ‘hope you like it’ too?”“You can,” I said. “That’s sweet.”Noah went back to the living room, his steps light. I stood up again and wiped the dining table, even though it was already clean. My hands kept searching for something to do, as if stopping for even a moment would send my thoughts running to places I didn’t want to visit tonight to exhausting meetings, to people’s too-quick judgments, to guilt that o
Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 269
Sienna's POV At the table in the living room, Noah sat intently with scissors and tape beside him. Light blue wrapping paper was spread out, and one by one the items we had bought earlier were neatly grouped together: pencil case, notebooks, colored pencils, uniform, bag, new shoes, and a few other small things. He wrote Bam’s name on each little card he tucked in. His face was serious, as if he were carrying out an important mission.I glanced at him while stirring a pot of creamy chicken soup in the kitchen. The warm aroma slowly filled the air, making the house feel cozier and more alive. It was comforting after a long day outside to know there was no need to see anyone else, no challenging stares, no sharp comments.Every so often, Noah adjusted the ribbon on one of the gifts, then called out to me.“Mommy, does this look good?” he asked, pointing at a slightly crooked bow.I chuckled softly. “It looks great. Bam will definitely be happy.”Noah smil
Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 268
Sienna's POV The answer was simple. Honest. And it left no room for pity or obligation.I smiled and nodded. “Alright. Mommy will say that.”Noah’s face looked relieved, as if a small burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He then turned to another shelf and picked up two large sketchbooks, flipping through the pages to make sure the paper was thick.“This too,” he said. “If the paper’s thin, the marker will bleed through.”I chuckled softly. “You really think about everything, don’t you?”He shrugged. “Because if it bleeds through, the drawing looks ugly.”We walked toward the cashier with a cart now filled with simple items yet full of meaning. While waiting in line, Noah stood calmly beside me, not jumping around, not whining. Every now and then, he glanced at the contents of the cart, making sure everything was still there.I looked at his face from the side, his round cheeks, long eyelashes, and a seriousness unusual for a child
Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 267
Sienna’s POVWe pushed the shopping cart slowly, passing tall shelves filled with colorful stationery. Noah looked incredibly excited, almost bouncing every time he found something he thought would suit Bam. I watched him with a warm feeling in my chest. Noah had always been gentle and empathetic since he was little, but seeing him today somehow made me feel proud. There was something different about him.“What about this one?” Noah lifted a pencil case with a big dinosaur printed on it.I chuckled softly. “I don’t think Bam likes dinosaurs. What does he like?”Noah shrugged, then turned back to the shelves. “I don’t know, but maybe just a green pencil case. Bam likes green. When we draw trees in class, he always picks the green crayon first.”I smiled widely. “Then let’s look for a green one.”As Noah moved along the shelves again, I held the cart and watched his small back bouncing under the store lights. A quiet swell of emotion settled in my chest. A chi
Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 266
Sienna's POV “Mom,” he called suddenly, his voice soft.“Yes, sweetheart?”“If Bam returns Noah’s pencil case later Noah can use it again, right?”The question was simple, but there was hope tucked inside it. I nodded. “Of course you can. It’s yours.”He let out a small breath, like half a sigh of relief. “Noah just doesn’t want Bam to be sad.”My heart gave a gentle ache. I brushed the back of his hand with my thumb. “You did something good today. And you’re allowed to still have your own feelings. Both can exist at the same time.”He tilted his head, thinking it through. “Like sharing but still having?”“Yes,” I said with a smile. “Just like that.”The taxi passed rows of trees. Afternoon light filtered through the windows and fell across Noah’s face, making his eyelashes look long. I watched him and suddenly felt how fast time was moving. It felt like only yesterday he was learning to say his first word; now he was learning about empath
Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left 265
Sienna's POV I chose to pick up Noah myself today. After everything that happened at the publishing office, my head felt too full, and somehow all I wanted was to see my son’s face. As if doing that would help my breathing return to normal.I sat in the back seat of the taxi, leaning against the seat while watching the streets pass by through the window. The hum of the engine was steady, soft enough not to disturb me, real enough to keep me awake. My hands rested on the bag in my lap, fingers unconsciously intertwined an old habit whenever my thoughts became too crowded.After the meeting at the publishing office earlier, I knew I wasn’t capable of driving myself. My head throbbed lightly, not from pain, but from too many things pushing to be thought through at once. Decisions, courage, and the shadows of the past blended together. So I ordered a taxi, choosing to sit quietly and let someone else carry my body to the next destination.The taxi driver turne
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