All Chapters of Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left: Chapter 381 - Chapter 390

Noah's POV I immediately sped up my eating when Mommy started smiling with that overly meaningful look in her eyes.The only safe option was to escape.“I’m done,” I said quickly as I stood up. “I’m going to work on my college assignment.”“So diligent,” Mommy commented in a tone that clearly carried something else.I pretended not to hear.“Good,” Daddy said casually. “Do it now before you regret it.”“Yeah,” I muttered, grabbing my phone and taking the stairs two steps at a time.As soon as I reached my room, I closed the door and locked it.Only then did I let out a long breath.Why is Mommy always like that?I dropped into the chair by my desk. My phone was still in my hand. The screen lit up. It was just a group chat with school friends talking about the first day of college.The corner of my lips almost lifted, but my mind went straight back to the dinner table.“Is that from Rachel?”Why did it have to go there immediat

Noah's POV I grabbed my phone, looked for a new contact but then paused.Tomorrow I’ll talk to her right away. In person, not just using a task as a reason.That reason does live. But I want to be more truthful with myself.I want to learn about her bit by bit, not in the big room light like three years ago.I shut my laptop after checking the file was saved. The clock on the wall showed it was nearly eleven.Tomorrow is the second day.A second chance to step a little more bravely.I got up, switched off the lamp on the desk and laid down on bed. The ceiling became my view again.If Mommy knew I was planning to ask for Rachel’s number, she would probably I quickly stopped that thought.No need to imagine.No need to give her material for a story before there’s even anything.This is my life.And for the first time, I truly want to manage it on my own.

Noah's POV “Okay,” Rachel replied softly from behind.I took a deep breath, then rode the motorcycle out of the campus parking lot.The afternoon wind brushed against my face. Traffic wasn’t too heavy. But my thoughts were far more crowded than the road.I didn’t know what kind of exhibition we were going to. I didn’t know if I would really like art.But one thing was certain: if every new experience began like this, with Rachel sitting behind me and holding my waist the way she was now, then maybe what I said earlier was true.I would start liking it.Throughout the ride, I felt like my heart had a life of its own.It was beating too fast. Too loudly. Even the sound of the engine couldn’t compete with it.I wasn’t usually a slow rider. Not reckless, but confident enough to slip between cars when the road allowed it. Today? No.I kept my speed steady. Maybe even slower than usual. My hands gripped the handlebars carefully. Every tim

Noah's POV The trip turned out to be farther than I had thought. When the motorcycle finally stopped in the exhibition building’s parking area, I realized my back was sore and my shoulders slightly stiff from being tense the whole way.Rachel took off her helmet and lightly shook out her hair. “It’s quite a distance, huh?”“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to sound casual even though my heartbeat hadn’t completely settled.The exhibition building was large, with a tall glass façade reflecting the late afternoon light. Well-dressed people walked in and out, invitations in hand. For a moment, I felt slightly underdressed in my campus jacket and plain jeans.“Let’s go in?” Rachel said lightly.I nodded.Inside, the atmosphere was different. Quiet. White spotlights hung from above, illuminating paintings and art installations displayed along the walls and in the center of the room. The faint scent of paint and canvas mixed with the visitors’ perfume.Rachel tur

Noah's POV I just stood there in my campus jacket and slightly dusty shoes from the parking lot.Rachel looked comfortable. Not awkward. Not keeping excessive distance. But not overly attentive to him either. Just natural.And somehow, that made me even more uneasy.“Does Rachel often come to events like this?” I asked, trying to sound casual.“Quite often,” Steven answered before Rachel could. “She’s always been interested in the process. Not just the final result.”Rachel nodded. “I like seeing how people pour their thoughts into something visible.”I glanced at her.The way she looked at the artworks in this room was different from how she looked sitting behind me earlier on the motorcycle. Here, her eyes were more alive. More focused.As if she was in a familiar place.“Steven used to be a senior in the art community,” Rachel continued, explaining to me. “I’ve been seeing his work since it was still just concepts.”Oh.Senior.