Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 244

Sienna’s POV

I remained quiet for a moment allowing Liliana’s words to settle without any attempt to fight them. My hand continued to rest in her warm steady tangible like a tether preventing me from falling into my own mind. The café was as bustling as usual, spoons tapping on cups, voices at the adjacent tables and the strong scent of coffee but it all seemed very distant from me.

My thoughts wandered back to the meeting. To the white chamber. To the expressions that pronounced my name with solemn voices. To the manuscript that had existed solely on my laptop display for ages and was now gradually becoming something palpable. There was pride.

A modest triumph I ought to have rejoiced in. Yet simultaneously Emily’s presence had slipped in casting a strain, over that instant that I hadn’t invited.

I breathed out gently attempting to ease the tightness in my chest. It dawned on me that I had lived much of my life in a state of survival. Even when positive events occurred my thoughts instantly looked for the worst-case scenario as if joy always demanded a cost. Perhaps I had let fear guide me for longer than I should have.

I cast my eyes down toward the table observing the mirror of my face on the gleaming wooden surface. Delicate lines marked remnants of nights and tears that hadn’t always spilled. I no longer resembled the woman I had been fiveyears prior, the one who fractured easily who opted for silence out of concern, for hurting others. I still wasn’t a person who navigated life with complete certainty.

Inside I wondered, when did I last genuinely prioritize myself without feeling any remorse?

The response didn’t appear immediately. Perhaps it wasn’t necessary for it to. I was starting to realize that bravery isn’t always delivered as assurance. Occasionally it emerges as a choice to not back down. To remain in that seat. To attend the gathering. To continue to open your heart despite not being mended.

I drank a mouthful of my beverage now chilled. The sharpness stayed on my palate. It didn’t trouble me. It seemed fitting like.a signal that not all bitterness should be shunned. Certain tastes must be embraced to remind us we remain alive, still sensing, still caring.

A gentle flutter arose within my chest not fear, but a feeling. A sense of determination that hadn’t yet taken shape in language. It was beginning to feel authentic. I didn’t need to resolve everything today. I didn’t need to overcome all my fears. I just had to be truthful with myself, about my desires and allow myself the grace to not always be tough.

Gradually I raised my face. My gaze connected with Liliana’s more. She had been waiting calmly without any rush without any criticism.

I observed her for a moment spotting the hints of fatiguebeneath her smile. She appeared lively as ever yet faint shadows lingered under her eyes and her actions were somewhat sluggish obvious indications of weariness.

“By the way how are you doing, Liliana?” I inquired softly.”

Are you all-right? You seem tired.”

Liliana exhaled deeply while reclining in her chair as though she had, at last, been allowed to speak.

“Utterly drained, Sienna. Recently the stack of paperwork at work seems never-ending. Cases continuously. My clients grow increasingly dramatic each day. I sometimes forget to breathe.”

She dropped her hand. Gazed at me, her face gentler this * time.

“I understand. That’s beneficial to Sienna. You’ve delayed pursuing your dreams for quite a while. Now the moment has come for you to concentrate on this journey.”

A çomforting feeling filled my chest because of her words.

Her voice held no envy, no strain, only honesty, the honesty that had always made me value her as a friend.

I nodded gently, sensing a relief within me. That casual chat seemed like a moment of calm amid the chaos raging in my mind. Liliana consistently had a talent for easing burdens making it seem like the world wouldn’t fall apart just because something went awry.

I turned the cup around in my hands observing the coffee marks sticking to its surfaces.

“Occasionally I find it hard to accept that all of this is truly occurring,” I confessed. “The book, the meeting, from earlier it seems as if I’m experiencing another person’s existence.”