Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 215

Liam’s POV

Emily eventually drifted off to sleep likely due to the medication the nurse administered to help her relax. Her breathing had evened out her expression serene despite the lingering puffiness, from her tears still apparent.

She rested on her side with the blanket drawn up to her chest. The soft lighting of the VIP room made her appear pale and delicate unlike the woman who was constantly demanding, constantly asking, constantly crying and pleading for me to return. For a very long time I witnessed her genuinely quiet.

Only quiet.

I remained steps away from her bed. My hands slipped into my pockets while I observed her. A sensation I couldn’t identify lingered not hatred, not affection. More, Like the traces of memories that had lost their form.

Something that had once been significant, once agonizing yet now seemed dull, like ashes.

Perhaps since my life has moved away from that period.

Perhaps also due to the presence of someone who changes the atmosphere.

There is someone at home who makes each step toward coming easier feel correct.I shut my eyes briefly allowing the noise of the IV machine and the air conditioner to envelop the space. There was no point in lingering. I had fulfilled my duty. I arrived, confirmed she was okay. That was it.

My mind wandered momentarily to Noah; he was likely occupied with drawing or watching cartoons as he waited for me. Then I thought about Sienna, I pendered what she might be up to now. Preparing food? Brewing tea?.

Occasionally peeking at the door wishing I’d return earlier?

Merely picturing it filled my chest with warmth.

My eyes shifted back, to Emily. She appeared calm. Odd, observing her without the effort to keep me close.

However abruptly a slight surge of remorse appeared, not due to a desire to depart. Because I no longer had any feelings for her. Even the remaining sympathy was faint, nearly insignificant.

She used to be a person I cherished.

Once a part of my life.

But now everything is over.

She selected her route. I picked mine. Now my way takes me to someone who matters more to me.

I breathed out gently. My chest bore a weight not from doubt but due to the need to shut that door permanently.An entryway, to times that I was unable to bring forward into my existence.

Unconsciously I smoothed my sleeves. Fixed my collar as though getting ready to be the person I am today, not the one caught between the past and regret.

That’s enough. Time to leave.

I looked at her quickly for a second to confirm she seemed steady. No indications of trouble, no objections. The nurse mentioned she simply required rest and that the medicine would keep her asleep for hours.

There was no reason left to delay.

I exhaled deeply the sigh of a choice the final breath would release in that room then slid the chair to its spot to ensure it wouldn’t obstruct anyone entering afterward.

inhaled softly rose to my feet, adjusted my jacket and got ready to go.

The door swung open minutes afterwards.

“That might spoil her reputation “I whispered.

“It already has, sir.” Willy agreed. “The agency is working to restore her reputation. It’s challenging. Several brands are beginning to reconsider continuing their partnerships with her.”+20 Bonus

I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose sensing a sensation in my chest, a blend of sympathy and remorse.

“That’s why we were comforted to discover she had retained someone’s contact ” Willy whispered. “The team examined her phone. There was solely one emergency number saved. Yours.”

I became quiet.

Strangely, my chest constricted. It was as if two parts of me were tugging in directions, one eager to maintain distance since it was all, in the past and the other unsettled, picturing someone who shared years with me now left with nothing but my name.

I pressed my fingers against my temple attempting to steady my breath.

“Why would mine be the contact?” I inquired, my voice a bit.

“We have no idea.” Willy shook his head. “She hasn’t been accepting assignments recently. She’s been mostly isolated. Not close with anyone, at the agency and her family never comes around for her.”

I gulped, glancing more at Emily, whose features appeared tinier than usual. For years she had been – encircled by personnel, photographers, makeup artists and fellow performers constantly seeming to be the focus of everything. Yet now the space was vacant. Only myselfand a man too young to bear the weight of an unraveling-artist remained.

“I understand,” I muttered. “But you should know our relationship ended long ago.”