Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 15

15

Sienna’s POV

Emily walked toward her vanity, never sparing me another glance. She dried her hair briskly, as if trying to wipe away the awkwardness of my presence. She placed the towel on the chair, then looked at me through the mirror.

“If you want to help, just do it from outside. I don’t like people touching my personal things, especially in my room,” she added, her voice now sharp enough to cut through bone.

I took a slow breath, holding back the anger that pressed heavily in my chest. I hadn’t even wanted to be in this room. But out of duty–out of a routine I still tried to uphold even though I knew my place had been replaced–I came.

“Alright,” I said quietly. I lowered my gaze and reached for the folded clothes I hadn’t yet set down.

“Sienna,” she called suddenly, stopping me at the door.

I turned my head slowly.

Emily wa

staring at me, eyes narrowed. “I know you don’t like having me here. But don’t think you can win anyone’s sympathy in this house just by acting sweet or pitiful. I’ve had enough of your fake kindness.”

My chest tightened. My tongue felt like stone.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to say that nothing about me was fake. But what was the point? Nothing I said would change anything. In their eyes, I was the one left behind. The useless one. The burden growing heavier each day in a home that no longer had a place for me.

With my head bowed, I opened the door and stepped out. My legs felt heavy, but I walked away anyway. I closed the door gently behind me, careful not to let it creak. I didn’t want to add another sound to a silence already painful enough.

I was still holding a few pieces of clothing meant for Noah’s room. But now, even that felt like too much.

What Emily didn’t realize was that what she insulted wasn’t just my attitude–but every ounce of effort I had poured into surviving in a house that no longer saw me.

I made my way slowly toward Noah’s room, the folded clothes still in my arms. After what had just happened with Emily, my chest was still tight. But I kept moving, tried to stay busy–one task after another–anything to keep my mind from drowning in a pain that never seemed to end.

I gently pushed open Noah’s door. I returned his clothes to the wardrobe, folded them neatly, placed them in the drawers like I always had.

ส

am rang out from downstairs.

But just as I was about to close the last drawer, a scream rang

“My ring is gone! My ring is gone!”

I froze. It was Emily’s voice.

Without thinking, I rushed out of Noah’s room and down the stairs. I could hear other footsteps–Liam coming out of his study, his face tense, and Noah running from the playroom.

“What happened?” Liam asked quickly, looking at Emily, who was standing in the middle of the living room. Her breath was uneven, her hair still damp, her face a mix of panic and fury.

Emily turned to him, her eyes red. “My ring! The diamond ring I just put in my jewelry box yesterday–it’s gone!”

I stood frozen on the last step, my body tensing for reasons I didn’t yet understand… until Emily turned to face me.

“You were in my room earlier, weren’t you, Sienna?”

Suddenly, Noah ran toward Emily and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Don’t be sad, Auntie Emily. Mommy’s mean, right? She even stole your ring.”

Π

The words hit harder than anything else.

“Noah, Mommy didn’t-”

“I haté Mommy!” he shouted before I could finish. “Auntie Emily is better! She never yells at me or causes trouble!”

Tears welled in my eyes instantly, but I held them back. I looked at my son–the child I’d raised alone since he was a baby. The child who once couldn’t sleep unless he was curled against me. Now… he was hugging someone else and accusing me without

hesitation.

Liam took a deep breath. “We’ll look for the ring. But if it turns out you took it… I’ll never forgive you.”

I wanted to speak. To shout that I would never do such a thing. But the words… were gone. Shattered. Lost in a wound that had

already cut too deep.

Emily bent down to hug Noah, stroking his hair as though she were the hero in this chaos.

And me?

I stood there. In my own home. Accused of stealing. Hated by my son. Suspected by my husband.