Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 227

Sienna’s POV

I cupped my mouth stifling a chuckle. “Mischievous right?”

“Yes!” Noah agreed decisively as though he had uncovered the reasoning. “He didn’t want to end up as chicken soup!”

I released a sigh. “So the carrot deserves to be penalized, correct?”

“Punished?” Noah’s eyes grew a bit wider.

“Yes. Thrown into the trash.”

Noah appeared devastated. “Poor carrot.”

“If it falls on the ground it becomes dirty dear. Then Noah might have a stomach ache.”

I caressed his head. “We need to pick the ones that’re safe to eat alright?”

Noah nodded gently, his eyes fixed on the carrot tucked beneath the cabinet beyond his reach. “I’ll grab it Mommy!

” he declared, preparing to crawl.

I promptly grabbed his shoulder. “No worries. Mommy’s got this. You keep cutting the rest alright?”

He nodded more and his resolve strengthened. “Alright, Mommy! Noah is all set!”I handed him another carrot. Said with a purposeful tone,’ Try using your super cutting technique a bit more slowly so the carrots don’t escape again.”

Noah squared his shoulders, his face utterly solemn. ” Alright! Noah is going to make these carrots listen!”

“Noah, that dropped,” I said.

He looked at the dropped carrot back at me. “Gravity experiment, Mom.”

I suppressed a chuckle while lifting it. “Yes yes. Little scientist. After it’s dropped we can’t utilize it anymore.”

“Okaaaay.”

As I stirred the soup I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was deeply absorbed, his tongue poking out a bit of his typical expression of focus. The scene filled my heart with warmth. I always cherished times like these Noah and me in our cozy kitchen sharing a quiet day, like any typical family.

“Mom!”-Noah shouted without raising his eyes. “When

Noah grows up Noah wishes to cook like Mommy.”

I grinned. “For what reason?”

“So if Mommy feels exhausted Noah will prepare food. If Mommy is feeling down Noah will cook some soup. Soup cheers you up doesn’t it?”

My heart softened.”That’s true,” I murmured. “Soup warms you up particularly when prepared by someone.”

Noah flushed with color. Then exclaimed, “Mommy look!

Noah’s wounds are healing!”

I checked. Still. Clearly better. “That’s excellent, Chef Noah has advanced.”

He shouted with joy. Tensed his minuscule invisible muscles. “Powerful cook!”

We kept cooking until the kitchen was filled with an aroma. Noah mixed the soup with much energy nearly causing it to overflow so I had to steady his hand.

“Take it easy darling. Soup isn’t clothes.”

Once the meal was prepared I suggested, “Let’s arrange the table.

“Noah is going to put away the spoons!” He dashed off clutching spoons than his hands could hold. “Noah is capable of doing it!”

A spoon dropped. Then one more. Yet another.

I rubbed my temples. “Let’s handle a few at once alright?”

“Alright,” he replied timidly.

Honestly. I wouldn’t swap this disorder for anything else.

Noah brought our small house to life. Whole. Never silent.We finally completed arranging the table. It required double the time since Noah wished to assist with everything. He even demanded to put two glasses on the table despite it being the two of us. One glass was for the,

“superhero who watches over Mommy and Noah.”

I did not dispute it. Perhaps we genuinely required that superhero.

I inquired, “Does Noah want water or orange juice?” as I opened the fridge.

He pondered deeply as though the decision impacted the destiny of the cosmos.

He sulked, his lips protruding like a dumpling. “Noah wants to assist.”

I brushed my fingers through his hair. “In that case could you assist by fetching hmm napkins? Some water, for the invisible hero.”

His eyes brightened immediately. “Alright!!”

He dashed eagerly to the dispenser as I gently set the soup down on the table.

I observed that child, his little feet dashing the napkin dragging along the ground since he couldn’t raise it very high. Then he held the glass with both hands to fill it with water spilling some in the process. He grinned with pride as though he had rescued the entire world.

Perhaps he genuinely did.

Simply his presence had rescued me on occasions.

I arranged the napkin in his hand. Pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Well done Assistant Chef Noah.”

“Noah, not assistant.” He lifted his chin. “Noah partner!”

I laughed softly. “Yeah yeah. Mommy’s companion.”

We completed the details on the table. A tiny vanilla-scented candle glowed gently in the corner. No elegant classical. Costly dining experiences just plain soup, a glass of orange juice and the giggles of a young boy.

It seemed warmer than anything else, on Earth.

We sat side by side Noah gazing proudly at his soup bowl.

“Mommy this is the flavor of triumph.”

I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling. “A triumph over carrots?”

“Yay!” he exclaimed.

I lightly touched the end of his nose. “Chef Noah, you’re incredible.”

He beamed broadly. “Mommy is truly incredible.”

Suddenly that simple dinner felt like a gift.