Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 30

I stepped into the taxi. The driver asked where I was heading, and I told him the name of a small village on the outskirts of the city. As the car began to roll forward, I looked at the house once more through the window.

But only for a moment. Then I turned my face to the front.

No need to look back. No need to keep hoping

Tonight, I chose to be the kind of woman who knows when to stop. I chose to leave, not because I lost, but because I finally understood that love can’t be forced, and wounds won’t heal in the place that caused them.

Inside the taxi, slowly gliding through the dusk, I clutched the bag on my lap tightly. Inside it were a few clothes, some notebooks, and important documents I had quietly prepared. I didn’t bring much–only what I truly needed. Everything else, I left behind including the weight of the memories. I knew this pain wouldn’t go away overnight. But at least by leaving, I could breathe again. I could feel like my life wasn’t just about enduring for the sake of others.

The taxi left the main road and turned onto a quieter street. The city lights started to flicker on, one by one. I stared out the window, trying to distract myself from the sound of Noah’s laughter still echoing in my ears. A sharp ache pierced my chest

every

time I thought of him, but I calmed it with a long breath. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving that child. On the contrary -I loved him too much to stay and watch him grow up without truly being a part of his life.

In the village I was heading to, there was a small house owned by an old friend. We had worked together in the early days of my career, before all of this began. She once told me I could stay there whenever I needed a place to breathe. Back then I just laughed, never knowing a day like this would actually come. Now, that memory of her laugh reminds me I still have someone who cares. Even if it’s just one person.

I rested my head against the window. Outside, trees swayed in the evening breeze. Quiet. No sound of Noah, no laughter from Emily, no tired sighs from Liam.

Just the hum of the engine and the soft rumble of wheels against the road reminded me that I was truly alone now. But for the first time in a long while, the loneliness didn’t feel scary. It felt like a beginning. A beginning of something I didn’t yet understand–but I believed would be better than what I left behind.

The car moved farther away, carrying my body and my resolve with it. I didn’t know what life would look like after this. But one thing was certain–tonight, I left for good.

My phone buzzed in my hand, lighting up with a name I had been wanting to call for hours: Liliana.

With trembling fingers, I pressed the green button.

“Hello?” I said, my voice unsteady.

“Sienna? What’s going on? It’s not like you to call.”

“It’s nothing… I just wanted to say something.”

“Where are you right now?” Liliana’s voice was sharp with worry, quick and full of emotion.

I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump of pain rising in my throat. “Thank you, Liliana,” I whispered. “You…. you’re the kindest person I’ve ever had. The only one who’s always been there for me–no conditions, no expectations.” “Sienna, stop it. What’s going on? Where are you right now?” she asked again, louder this time, her voice nearly frantic.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears before they spilled too soon. “I just… I wanted you to know that I love you. And I hope… if we’re meant to be friends for life, we’ll meet again–when the time is right.”

“Wait, what are you talking about? You’re leaving? Sienna, you’re only ending things with Liam–not with me! You can stay with me, you can start over. Don’t do this!” Her voice cracked. She was almost crying.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to sound strong, even as it crumbled inside me. “I’m sorry, Liliana… I’m so sorry.”

Then I pressed the red button. Ended the call. And before I lost my nerve, 1 powered off my phone completely.

Everything went quiet. Too quiet.

My head dropped, my shoulders began to tremble, and my breath broke into sobs I could no longer suppress. I buried my face in my hands and let the tears fall–unfiltered, unrestrained. I had held on too long, pretended too much, buried my pain too deep. And now it all erupted at once.

I felt empty… but somehow also relieved. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I knew exactly where I didn’t want

t to return.

Outside, the gray sky began to fall apart. A soft drizzle tapped against the taxi window, a sound so faint yet piercing. As if the sky understood my heart–and chose to cry with me. The streetlights blurred behind the raindrops streaking down the glass, like the trail of my own tears.

I sat curled up in the back seat, hugging myself as the sobs came harder. There was nothing left to hold back. My chest ached like it was trying to scream, but all that came out were fractured sobs. My tears spilled without mercy, my gasps loud and raw as the rain grew heavier outside.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. I knew he saw me–maybe confused, maybe sympathetic. But I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have cared if he stopped the car and told me to get out right then and there. I would still cry. I would still let this grief pour out, the grief I had carried too far for too long.

My hands gripped the small bag on my lap tightly–the one holding my lifeless phone. No more calls. No more messages to wait for. No one would be looking for me tonight. And that hurt… but it also set me free. Because for the first time, I stopped tying my happiness to someone who never tried to understand me.

Let me cry as hard as I need to–because starting tomorrow, I’ll learn to stand on my own. Without waiting for anyone to reach out and pull me up.