Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 22

Sienna’s POV

I walked slowly to my room, down the hallway that once felt warm but now seemed so unfamiliar. The dim lights on the walls cast faint shadows that followed my steps, but it wasn’t the darkness that made my feet feel so heavy.

As I passed by Noah’s room, a sound stopped me in my tracks. His laughter–soft, innocent, unrestrained. A sound I knew by heart. But tonight, I wasn’t the reason for it.

I heard Emily’s voice clearly, reading aloud from a storybook. Then Liam joined in, mimicking funny character voices–the same way I used to. And again, Noah laughed.

I stood in front of the door, unable to open it. Just standing still. My back slumped against the wall, my hand clutching the hem. of my shirt tightly. I bit my lip, trying to hold back whatever was starting to rise behind my eyes. 1

I thought I was strong enough.

I thought… I was numb enough.

But it turns out, I could still shatter–completely–just from hearing my son’s laugh that no longer came because of me.

I walked away quickly before they realized I had been there. I shut my bedroom door slowly, as silently as I could, as if even my presence needed to remain invisible.

I moved to the small table in the corner, my eyes falling on the calendar pinned to the wall. Today’s date was circled in red. I had marked it a week ago. And just three days from now…

My hand reached out to touch the date, brushing against it as if I could erase it all. But the ink stayed, stubborn, like a decision that could no longer be undone.

I stared at that red circle for a long time, hoping to find a reason to stay. But all I found was silence–and a pain that only grew tighter in my chest.

Three more days. Just three more, and this will all be over. At least, this part of my life–the part that hurts so much–will end. I’ll leave. This house. This town. And maybe… the quiet, foolish hope that I could ever be part of that family again.

I turned away from the calendar and looked at the suitcase in the corner. It wasn’t full yet, but full enough to remind me that I didn’t have much time left. Every second was part of a countdown to something I already knew would hurt. But I still had to do it.

I sat at the edge of the bed. The mattress was the same, the sheets the same, even the blanket I’d once picked out myself when we first moved here. But none of it felt warm anymore. Just cold. Like memories that no longer comforted. Like a story that had ended–and I was just a side character no one remembered to write into the final scene.

My phone buzzed on the table. A message from Laura.

[Are you really leaving without saying goodbye, Sienna?]

I stared at the screen for a long time before putting the phone down again. I didn’t know what to say.

Am I a coward–for leaving like this without a word? Or… am I simply too tired to explain to anyone that I no longer belong here?

My hand reached into the desk drawer and pulled out an old photograph. The three of us–me, Liam, and Noah. Noah had been three at the time, sitting on Liam’s shoulders, while I laughed holding a bright blue balloon. Back then, I really thought everything would be okay.

I held the photo close. Not

se I wanted the past back. But because I needed to remember what it felt like to be loved.

Because now, it feels like no one in this house loves me anymore.

And maybe… maybe that’s reason enough to go.

I woke up gasping, bolting upright as if pulled from a nightmare that felt far too real. My chest heaved, drenched in cold sweat. My hair clung to my temples, and the pillow beneath me was damp from the fear that still lingered.

The dream…

I couldn’t remember it all clearly. Just fragments–Noah calling Emily “Mommy,” Liam’s cold stare, and me, standing alone in an empty room slowly swallowed by darkness. No one turned around. No one heard me crying.

I touched my forehead. Burning hot. My whole body felt like it was both freezing and on fire.

I tried to take a deep breath, to steady myself, then slowly stepped off the bed. But the moment my feet touched the floor, everything spun. My vision swam, and I collapsed sideways, hitting the bed frame before crumpling to the floor.

“Ouch!”

I gritted my teeth, pain shooting up my arm. My limbs were weak, drained.

I reached out across the floor, feeling around until my fingers found the nightstand. I pulled myself close and opened the drawer with shaking hands, grabbing a small bottle of fever medicine and a glass of water I’d placed there days ago.

It took everything in me to swallow the tablet. The water tasted bitter, the pill nearly lodged in my throat. But I got it down.

I slumped against the bed, letting my body rest on the carpet. My breathing was still labored, sweat still pouring from my forehead and down my neck. I didn’t have the strength to stand.

The room was still cloaked in darkness. Only the faint glow of the bedside lamp kept me company in this silent night.

I thought I could survive tonight quietly. But even sleep had betrayed me.

Even my dreams wanted me to feel like I didn’t matter.

I dragged myself back onto the bed, curling up under the blanket. My body trembled. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to warm myself.

“Just a little more,” I whispered.

A new morning was just starting to slip through the curtains, soft light stretching across the room. But my body still felt heavy. The fever hadn’t gone down. My head throbbed, clouded in haze. Every inch of me ached. My throat was dry and sore.