Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 160

Sienna’s POV

Within a few minutes of Liam’s departure, I was still in my seat, ogling the remains from inside me. As the café became more bustling, glasses clinked, laughter broke out, and an espresso machine hummed up. My thoughts persisted at the table, lingering on despite the gentle conversations and unsettling looks. The silence was too much to articulate.

My mind took a deep breath, trying to keep my focus level. I should have felt relieved. At last, there was no longer any sense of anger or regret. Still though, I felt the feeling. It’s possible that I wasn’t entirely sure about our relationship after this. Possibly due to my persistent hesitation to trust once more, I had lost all faith.

I reflected on the cup in front of me, reflecting on an earlier moment. The softness of Liam’s eyes, his silent expression, as if he recognized my lack of readiness. That should have been enough. It was clear to me that a relationship like ours, which had been broken and now being reconstructed, would be challenging.

The cafe’s large glass window on the left side was illuminated by rising sun, creating soft patterns on a table. I turned my cup upside down, feeling the light glinting through it. In the past, I cherished moments like this, their tranquility, simplicity, and the ability to think freely. It was all very peaceful. However, the stillness within me only served to strengthen my awareness of the noise inside my head.

I remained silent and closed my eyes for a moment. Noah, who was likely still adjusting to his first day at school. The calm and steady manner of Liam returned to work. The focus on myself is still developing as a person who is rebuilding their life, not just as an orphan, but also as someone who had the right to choose her own path.

It wasn’t unexpected that this would be a short journey. I was aware of it. Occasionally, I would feel like giving up or facing the past. Why? But I wanted to try. The aim is not to relive the past, but to provide myself with a second chance, without feeling sorrowful.

After a brief moment, I gazed at another table and saw two young people enjoying ice cream together with their friends. A woman in her middle age read a book in the corner, looking relaxed. Despite the routineness of everyday life, it was still beautiful regardless of our readiness.

I adjusted my posture, running my fingers around the edge of my cup, and gazed out the window. Some of the leaves tumbled softly in the wind, landing on the pavement. It was just going to be noon by now, but I wasn’t ready to go home. A whisper from within me urged me to stay away for a while.

I could breathe without feigning strength here. Perhaps? Perhaps the aroma of coffee and the gentle rustling of conversations made me feel slightly more at ease.

I was about to order a glass of water and my focus was directed towards the waiter when the cafe doorbellbell rang, albeit at ten perilous levels. When I glanced upward, a person arrived with open arms.

“Ah! Sienna!”

The voice made me turn. Livia was grinning and waving in a bright manner. With a sleek blazer on, her hair falling gently over her shoulders and is clutching. A small work bag in hand, she appeared neat and full of life.

After standing, I exclaimed, “Livia! I assumed you were still present at the workplace.”

1/3

160

+25 BONUS

“Just finished a business meeting.”

As soon as she received my message this morning, she immediately headed towards the office. She positioned her bag on the chair and asked for an iced caramel macchiato from the waiter. Her response was sparkling with satisfaction. “I just want to emphasize that my manuscript is truly beautiful.”

I was on a high alert when she whispered, “You’ve read the ending? How did that happen?”

Livia nodded with enthusiasm, “Yes! I was surprised by the end product.”

It has emotion, redemption, and warmth. Her smile was a constant smile as she watched the ending, which makes readers finish reading with vigor.

“I have read some comments from readers who have been following your work since the competition began. It’s rare to hear such sentiments, as the author stated that this story has a profound yet tender tone.

I gazed down at the table, my heart racing. The feeling was that all the dread of writing so late in the day was suddenly compensated with one sentence.

When Livia finished speaking, I remained silent for a few seconds. It was as if warm air ran cold through my breasts, making it difficult to hold back a smile. The laborious work, the dreadful sleep and doubts associated with each paragraph made it all seem like a breeze.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify