8

Sienna's POV

Later that afternoon, I sat on the back patio, rereading the first three chapters of my manuscript. I had been rewriting, rewording, reshaping—not for them, not for Liam or Noah—but for me. For the woman who used to whisper stories into her pillow because no one else was listening.

Liam stepped out, hands in his pockets.

“I read some of your poems,” he said after a long silence.

I didn’t look up.

“They were in the storage box,” he continued. “With the old anniversary cards. I… didn’t realize you were so lonely.”

I closed the laptop slowly and looked at him. “You never asked if I was.”

He walked closer, slowly, as if not to startle me. “I was selfish,” he admitted. “I thought providing a house, safety, structure—that was enough. But I didn’t really see you.”

“You saw what was convenient,” I corrected. “You saw someone who would never argue, never demand. Someone you didn’t have to choose, because I was already there.”

He swallowed hard. “I know.”

We sat in silence. The wind moved gently, brushing past us like time we couldn’t get back.

“I don’t know what to say to make things right,” Liam said.

“You can’t,” I replied. “Some things don’t get fixed. They just… end.”

His face tensed. “Do you hate me?”

“I don’t know what I feel,” I said truthfully. “Some days I think I hate you. Other days, I hate myself for staying. And then there are moments, like now, when I just feel... tired.”

Liam stepped back slightly. “You said you’d be gone. For good. Did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath. “What if I ask you to stay?”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. “Would you be asking because you love me… or because you’re afraid to be without me?”

He didn’t answer. And his silence was the loudest thing I’d heard all day.

His silence told me everything. Liam wasn’t ready to respond—and maybe, he never had been. Because to him, I was never someone to be loved, just someone convenient to have around.

“I’ll handle all the paperwork. I’ll be out before the weekend,” I said quietly, still meeting his gaze. “Our contract will end peacefully. Just the way you always wanted it to.”

Liam looked shaken, but said nothing. Maybe because deep down, he knew I was right. And honestly, I wasn’t looking for his apology anymore.

“Are you leaving the city?” he asked after a long pause.

“I don’t know yet,” I answered. “But wherever I go, it will be a place that chooses me. A place I choose—not a place I’m pushed into, or forced to stay.”

He nodded slowly. His eyes were red, but he didn’t cry. “Noah... he’s still your son. Even if he hurt you. He’s just confused, Sienna.”

I took a deep breath. “I know. Children hurt you not because they understand—but because they don’t. And I… I’ll give him time. But for now, I have to heal too.”

Suddenly, a small sob broke the silence. We both turned toward the glass door—and saw Noah standing there, wide-eyed and trembling.

“So… you’re really leaving, Mommy?” he asked, voice cracking.

I froze. He walked up to me and threw his arms around my waist. His small body clung to mine, shaking.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I was mean… I didn’t know you were really sick. I thought you were mad at me. I didn’t understand… please forgive me, Mommy…”

I gently ran my fingers through his hair, my throat tightening.

“I’m sorry… please don’t go… if you go, I won’t have anyone…”

His cries broke completely.

I closed my eyes. This wasn’t easy. But my leaving wasn’t revenge. It wasn’t because I didn’t love him. It was because I did. And because love… sometimes meant choosing yourself too.

I bent down and kissed the top of his head. “Mommy loves you, Noah. Always. But sometimes love means space. Mommy needs to go… to heal. So I can be a better mom for you. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

He sobbed harder. But he nodded. And that was enough.

That night, I started packing. Not much—just some clothes, my laptop, and the manuscript that had become my lifeline. Everything else, I would leave behind. Not out of bitterness—but because some memories don’t deserve to be carried.

Downstairs, I could hear Emily’s voice rising.

“You’re really going to let her go? Just like that?”

“Emily,” Liam’s voice was calm but low. “We’ve talked about this. This isn’t about you or me. It’s about Sienna. And her choice deserves respect.”

“You said you loved me. But now you look like you’re losing something important.”

He didn’t answer. His silence said enough.

I zipped my suitcase and sat at the edge of the bed. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel heavy. Just still. Quiet. Peaceful in a way that surprised me.

The next morning, I sat at the breakfast table for the last time. Noah sat across from me, head down, eyes swollen from crying. Liam sat at the far end, quiet. Emily didn’t appear.

I spooned warm porridge into my bowl—ginger, sesame oil, chicken stock. The scent used to mean home. Now it simply marked a goodbye.

“If you need anything, you can always call me,” Liam said softly.

I looked at him. “Thank you. But I’ll be okay.”

I stood, picked up my bag, and turned to Noah.

“I’m leaving now.”

The boy stood, then wrapped his arms around me one more time. Calmer now. “Don’t forget… you have a home in my heart, Mommy.”

I cupped his cheeks, kissed his forehead, then turned to leave.

My steps were heavy. But my heart wasn’t. I no longer carried the same wounds. They had turned into something else—less pain, more purpose.

Outside, the morning air was cool and bright. The sun was climbing slowly, stretching warm fingers across the quiet street.

I looked ahead. There was no clear plan. No glamorous future mapped out. But there was one thing I was sure of: I would live as myself. No longer someone’s shadow. No longer a placeholder in someone else's story.