Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 129

129

Sienna’s POV

The streetlights were still glowing dimly when Liam’s car stopped in front of the house. I glanced into the back seat, Noah had already fallen asleep, his face peaceful, his breathing steady, his small lips slightly parted. I smiled faintly, a wave of relief and tenderness washing over me at the sight of him so calm after a full day wandering around the mall.

Liam turned off the engine, then looked at me briefly before getting out.

“I’ll carry Noah. Can you take the shopping bags?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “Yes, I’ll take them.”

He carefully opened the back door, lifting Noah’s little body with such gentleness that he didn’t wake. The boy stirred slightly, murmured something incoherent, then sank back into deep sleep in his father’s arms. The sight made my heart tremble again.

We walked quietly into the house. Liam headed upstairs to Noah’s room, laying him down on the bed with such care. I paused at the doorway, watching from afar.

Meanwhile, I went to the kitchen, placing the groceries on the table. The house felf silent, only the sound of our footsteps filling the air. Without thinking much, I took two cups, poured hot water, and prepared coffee for us both. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to prolong this moment, even if it was just sitting together in silence.

I sat briefly at the kitchen table, my palms circling the warm cup I had just filled. A thin wisp of steam rose into the air, carrying a calming aroma. My chest still throbbed with an inexplicable rhythm, whether from the exhaustion of the day or from the image of Liam carrying Noah just moments ago, so carefully, as though the world might collapse if he slipped.

My hands trembled slightly as I set the first cup on the table. I glanced at the doorway, half–expecting to hear his footsteps coming down. But all I heard was silence, the slow whir of the kitchen fan and the monotonous ticking of the clock.

Thinking back, this was the first time I had let someone else, besides myself, take care of Noah in such an intimate way. Usually, I was always on guard, always making sure I did everything myself. But tonight, I didn’t feel threatened. Instead, I felt something strange a sense of relief.

I stood again, fussing with the groceries on the kitchen table just to keep myself busy. Bags of fruit, bread, and other essentials still lay neatly packed. I moved some into the fridge, arranging them casually so they wouldn’t just sit there.

Each movement was slow, as if I were stretching time before Liam finally appeared. There was a vague restlessness in me, like waiting for something I couldn’t quite name.

I returned to the table, stirring the second cup of coffee. The small clinking of the spoon against the ceramic sounded loud in the stillness of the house. My fingers stilled, then I set the spoon down. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts.

My eyes drifted toward Noah’s room upstairs. In my mind, I imagined Liam still sitting at the bedside, perhaps

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making sure Noah was really fast asleep. That image filled me with a warmth I couldn’t ignore.

I sipped a little coffee, its bitterness immediately coating my tongue. Oddly enough, the bitterness made me feel more grounded, more connected to the moment.

“Don’t get carried away!” I whispered to myself, tapping my cheeks lightly. But the more I reminded myself, the more the warmth lingered.

I turned again toward the stairs. At last, the faint creak of wood reached my ears, measured, steady steps descending one by one.

My heart pounded harder for no logical reason. I hurriedly fixed my hair, then pretended to busy myself with arranging the cups more neatly on the table.

The footsteps drew nearer, until finally his figure appeared at the kitchen doorway. I straightened, trying to act calm, as if I hadn’t been waiting all along.

“He’s fast asleep,” Liam said with a small sigh. Then his eyes landed on the coffee cups I had set on the living room table. “You made coffee?”

I gave a brief smile. “I thought we could use it. Today was pretty tiring, wasn’t it?”

He smiled too, then sat down on the sofa. I handed him one of the cups and sat beside him. The TV in front of us was off, its black screen faintly reflecting our faces. Strangely, the quiet didn’t feel awkward.

I took a slow sip of my coffee, then said, “I’m glad about today.”

Liam turned, looking at me with an unreadable expression. “Me too,” he answered simply, but with weight.

We sat in silence for a moment, only the ticking of the clock breaking it. Then Liam spoke again. “How’s your novel coming along?”

I exhaled, lowering my gaze for a moment before answering.

“Almost finished. I think I might publish it. I’ve delayed it for too long.

”

Liam’s smile broadened, this time brighter. “I’m glad to hear that. I know how important writing is to you.”

Warmth spread through my chest, though I didn’t show much of it. I only nodded slowly.

“Yes, writing has always been my way to breathe.”

Liam nodded in understanding, then looked at me again, his face more serious.

“In that case, there’s something else I want to ask. Tomorrow will you move your things here?”

His question startled me. I turned quickly, my eyes widening. “I’m not ready to move in completely, Liam.” His face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. “Why? I thought after today after everything we did together.”

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