All Chapters of Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left: Chapter 361 - Chapter 370

Sienna's POV Was I too dependent on him?Was my life too tied to his name?I had myself. My job. My identity.And yet when his name was shaken, I was shaken too.The café door opened several times. Each small chime made my heart leap, hoping it was Liliana.I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts for too long.Because the longer I sat here, the louder the voices in my head argued.The doorbell chimed again.I turned.Liliana walked quickly toward me, her face full of concern when she saw my messy expression.“Sienna, how are you?” she asked softly as she pulled out a chair and sat down.I looked at her, trying to smile but failing. “I'm not okay, Liliana.”She reached for my hand across the table. “Tell me everything.”Those words were enough to make my defenses crumble. I lowered my head, my eyes beginning to burn.“Emily.” My voice trembled. “She sent so many of them. Photos of her and Liam. Then the articles all appeared at the same time. It feels like she did it on purpose.”

Sienna's POV Wife.Child.I didn’t realize when my tears started falling.Not hysterical sobs. Just a slow stream that was hard to stop.Some of the café guests had started talking about the same thing. I caught the name “Liam” mentioned at the table behind us. Their tone had shifted from gossip to legal speculation.Liliana gently held my arm. “He’s standing up for you.”I nodded slowly, but my chest felt like a storm of mixed emotions.Relieved? Yes.Proud? A little.But also hurt.Because to reach this point, our home had to be shaken first. Because I had doubted him. Because last night I looked at him with a fear he might not have deserved. Because behind all of this there was someone desperate enough to create a lie that big.“The media is starting to flip the narrative,” Liliana said again. “Now the focus is on the manipulation and possible legal action.”I wiped my tears quickly, trying to steady my breathing.Wh

Sienna's POV Noah was silent for a few seconds. I could see his reflection in the rearview mirror, his brows furrowing slightly.“I’ll be a little scared,” he admitted honestly. “But if someone needs help, I have to be brave.”That answer made me smile without realizing it.“Why do you have to be brave?” I asked softly.“Because if I don’t help, then who will?” he replied innocently.That simple sentence felt enormous.Sometimes children don’t realize that their words can strike right into the center of an adult’s heart.At the next turn, I slowed the car. Traffic was getting heavier. A few vehicles stopped suddenly ahead of us, forcing me to press the brake harder.“Noah, are you wearing your seatbelt properly?” I asked reflexively.“Yes!” he answered quickly, patting his chest.I nodded, satisfied.My phone vibrated on the dashboard a new notification. I didn’t look at it. I didn’t want to. For now, I chose to fo

Sienna's POV “Thank you for growing into such a good man.”He pauses for a split second. Then, with his usual cool act, he leans down and quickly kisses the top of my head.“Don’t cry, okay?” he whispers.I snort. “Who’s going to cry?”Liam chuckles. “We’ll see in the campus parking lot.”I elbow him lightly.The morning air feels different. Maybe it’s actually cooler or maybe my heart is simply too full to tell the difference.Noah walked ahead of us, his steps long and steady. His shoulders were straight. His hair was neatly styled. The light jacket he wore made him look more mature than I was ready to admit.Ten years.Ten years since those chaotic days. Since the headlines, the press conferences, the accusations, and the fear that had almost torn our home apart.We survived.We learned to speak before suspicion had a chance to grow. We learned to listen even when our ego

Sienna's POV The house feels too tidy. Usually there’s a pair of Noah’s shoes lying carelessly by the door. Usually there’s a hoodie tossed over the back of the sofa. Usually there’s the sound of his bedroom door slamming because he’s annoyed about losing a game. Today, there’s nothing. I walk into the kitchen and stare at the two glasses of orange juice from this morning. One is empty Noah’s. His fingerprints are still faintly visible on the surface of the glass. For some reason, that makes my chest tighten again. Liam walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter. “Do you want to cry?” he asks bluntly. I shrug. “Maybe.” “Then cry.” “What?” “Cry if you want to. Don’t hold it in.” I look at him. “Aren’t you sad?” Liam goes quiet for a moment. “I’m proud,” he finally says. “But yeah. A little empty.” I step closer to him. “A little?” “Okay. Quite a lot.” I smile. Then, without really planning to, I wrap my arms around him. We stand in the middle of the too-qui