Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 87

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Liam’s POV

I took a deep breath before answering. “Appendicitis,” I said quietly, trying to hold back the worry still lingering in my voice. “Luckily, it didn’t reach the point of needing surgery. But Sienna, seriously how could you let yourself go without water? You only drank coffee and soda, didn’t you?” My tone

unconsciously rose. “Did you think your body could endure that?”

She lowered her head, clearly unwilling to respond. I could see the guilt in her eyes, but it wasn’t enough to ease my frustration.

I held my breath, trying to suppress the storm of emotions inside my chest. My gaze remained fixed on Sienna–her body weak, her face pale, her hair messy. She lowered her head, as if hiding from my stare.

In that silence, my mind was loud, filled with fragments of images that made my blood run uneasy. The image of her collapsed body on the apartment floor, her skin cold, lips pale, breath barely steady. All of it replayed in my head like a recording I couldn’t stop.

My hand gripped the armrest of the chair tightly. Anger wanted to erupt, but behind it lingered a great

fear that left me shaken. All this time, I believed Sienna could take care of herself, believed she knew her

body’s limits. Yet in reality, she kept pushing, ignoring the signs of exhaustion, refusing to rest, even

forgetting something as simple as drinking water. How could someone I loved treat her own body as if it

wasn’t valuable?

The hospital room was quiet, only the soft beeping of the heart monitor filling the air. That sound made

me even more aware of how thin the line is between life and loss. If I had been just a little late, maybe

what I would see now wasn’t Sienna lying calmly in bed, but something far more terrifying. That thought made my throat tighten, my chest heavier.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, bowing low, searching for control. Anger, fear, and relief mixed together, leaving my body drained. On one hand, I wanted to shake her, force her to understand that health can’t be

traded for ambition or fleeting desires. On the other, I only wanted to hold her close, to make sure she felt

safe, to let her know there was someone who would never accept seeing her fall apart like that.

Morning light seeped through the curtains, falling softly on Sienna’s face as she drifted back to sleep.

Though pale, a calmness slowly spread across her features. I stared at her for a long time, holding back

the turmoil that wanted to break free. This frustration wasn’t anger at her–it was fear of losing her that

was simply too great.

Leaning back into the chair, I let out a long breath. A decision formed in my mind: I wouldn’t let this happen again. Whatever it took, I would make sure she took better care of herself. No more sleepless

nights, no more drowning herself in coffee instead of water, no more pushing her body past its limits. If she couldn’t take care of herself, then I would do it for her.

The room remained calm. Behind the thin curtain, I heard a small cough from another patient, a mother

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whispering soothingly. My gaze returned to Sienna, and this time my hand found hers beneath the blanket. I held it gently, as if making a silent promise. A promise that from now on, I wouldn’t just stand by her–I would make sure she learned to love herself as much as I loved her.

“Sienna, this isn’t just about being sick. It’s about how you treat yourself. You work until late, forget to eat, forget to drink. Do you think I wouldn’t worry?” my voice dropped, firm but gentle.

She sighed, then looked at me with hesitation. “Then how did you come at the right time? You didn’t

know I was sick.”

I turned my face away for a moment, searching for the right words. “I had a bad feeling,” I finally admitted, quietly. “I can’t explain it, but somehow I just felt you needed me. And I was right.”

She fell silent. Her eyes seemed to search through my thoughts, but I didn’t give her the chance to ask

more.

“You should have called me,” I added, softer this time. “If you felt sick or couldn’t get up, ask for help. Don’t make us strangers, Sienna.”

She closed her eyes briefly, whether from fatigue or to hold back something unspoken, I couldn’t tell. I

knew our relationship was far removed from what it used to be, but seeing her like this all that distance

suddenly felt meaningless.

I stayed seated beside her, making sure she drank a little water from the glass on the table. Deep inside, I swore I would remain here until I was completely certain she was safe. Even if she thought I was being

excessive, I didn’t care.

“You shouldn’t care about me, Liam. I can take care of myself,” she said, shifting her gaze toward the

window as if trying to cut off eye contact with me.

I looked at Sienna for a long moment, trying to understand how she could say those words so lightly.

I took a deep breath, forcing down the emotions rising inside me. “Take care of yourself?” I repeated softly, but with a bitterness I couldn’t hide. “Sienna, if you really could take care of yourself, I wouldn’t

have found you unconscious, alone, on the floor.”

She fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together, though her eyes continued to avoid mine. I knew this wasn’t about her ability to survive–it was about her unwillingness to let anyone else in.

“I…” I paused, swallowing the anger lodged in my throat. I didn’t want to yell at her, though part of me wanted to shake her shoulders just to make her realize. “I don’t care what you think about our relationship now. But the truth is, I’m not going to pretend I don’t care when I know you’re in danger.”

She closed her eyes, and I noticed her fingers curling into fists over the blanket. There was something in her expression–somewhere between exhaustion, fear, and perhaps being moved. But still, Sienna chose

silence.

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I leaned closer, lowering my voice so she would hear me clearly. “Sienna, I didn’t come here out of pity. I came because I care. Whether you admit it or not, you matter to me. And I won’t stop making sure you’re alright, even if it means you’ll end up hating me more than you already do.”

The words slipped out, heavy but honest. I then stepped back, giving her space, letting her process what

I’d said. Sienna didn’t reply, but I knew she had heard me.

“Enough, I want to sleep. You can go, there are plenty of nurses here who’ll look after me,” she said again, turning her body away from me.

“Sienna, I’m not leaving until the doctor says you’re alright. I’ll gladly be the annoying one if that’s what it takes to make sure you recover,” I replied firmly.