Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 248

Sienna’s POV

I remembered the publisher meeting earlier that day, how they spoke about my book seriously, as if it were something real and important, not just a dream I held quietly to myself. I smiled faintly. I had come this far. It wouldn’t be fair to stop now just because the past tried to pull me back.

The light turned green. I drove on.

My thoughts drifted to Noah. To the way he ran around that morning, to his endlessly enthusiastic voice, to his simple little world. I wanted to get home on time. I wanted to sit with him for dinner, listen to his stories, and make sure he fell asleep feeling safe. Everything I was doing, meetings, books, the courage to stand tall wasn’t just for me. It was for him too. So he would grow up seeing his mother as someone who chose to endure, not give up.

And Liam I touched his name carefully in my thoughts.

Our relationship still felt like ground after rain damp, fragile in places, but promising. I didn’t know what would happen next. I only knew that today, I chose to believe. To believe his words, his actions, and my own ability to say enough if something ever hurt me again. That, too, was strength.

I turned off the radio and let the silence accompany the rest of the drive. The road home grew familiar, marked bysmall turns and rows of houses with lights already glowing. The clock on the dashboard showed it was still before eight.

There was still room to breathe.

At one intersection, I slowed down and rolled the window down slightly. The night air flowed in cool and clean, carrying the scent of wet leaves. I inhaled deeply. It felt Like refilling something in my chest that had been empty for a while. I didn’t need answers to everything tonight. I didn’t need to define the future in a single breath. Just take one step at a time. Just go home.

I rolled the window back up and continued driving. The pastry bags on the passenger seat shifted slightly every time the car passed over uneven pavement. I glanced at them and smiled. Small things like these pastries to bring home, a conversation with a best friend, an evening drive turned out to be strong anchors.

There was still so much I had to face.

It was almost eight in the evening when I pulled into the driveway. The porch light was already on, offering a gentle welcome after a fairly exhausting trip home. I let out a long breath before opening the door, gathering what little energy I had left after an emotionally heavy day.

The moment the door opened, a savory aroma rushed to greet me. Something warm, richly seasoned, with a hint of butter. I frowned slightly in surprise. The house didn’t usually smell like this when I was the last one to get home.I stepped inside, slipped off my shoes, and placed my bag on the small rack by the door. The house felt more alive than usual. I heard soft clinks, the sizzle of a pan, and quiet laughter coming from the kitchen.

A small smile appeared on my face.

I walked there slowly.

When I reached the kitchen doorway, the sight before me made me stop, caught somewhere between awe and a sudden warmth spreading through my chest.

Liam was standing in front of the oven, wearing a gray apron I was pretty sure I’d never seen before. Beside him, Noah stood on a small stool, holding a big spoon and stirring something in a pot with a very serious expression though his eyes sparkled with happiness.

“Daddy, does the soup look like the one in the video yet?” Noah asked, unaware that I had already arrived.

Liam leaned in, tasting a bit of the broth from the tip of the spoon. “Hmm,” He pretended to think long and hard.” In Daddy’s opinion this is a strong candidate for the best corn soup in the world.”

Noah burst into proud little laughter. “I’m good, right?”

“We’re good,” Liam replied, ruffling his hair.

Something warm bloomed in my chest. That simple scene felt like a gift after such a long day. For a moment, 1 just stood there, quietly taking it all in.

I leaned lightly against the doorframe, letting myself sink into the moment without wanting to interrupt. The warm yellow kitchen light cast their shadows onto the floor, moving gently every time Noah stirred the pot or Liam shifted to grab ingredients from the counter. There was a calm rhythm to it, unhurried, unforced as if they had been doing this together for a long time.

Noah pursed his lips, stirring more carefully. “If Mommy likes it later, does that mean I can make it again tomorrow?”

Sienna’s POV

Liam chuckled softly. “If Mommy likes it, you can become this house’s official chef.”

“Really?” Noah’s eyes widened. “Chef Noah?”

“Really,” Liam said firmly. “But chefs have to be patient.

Soup can’t be forced to cook faster.”

Noah nodded seriously, then stopped stirring. “Soup doesn’t take too long, okay? Mommy will get hungry.”

I held back a smile. His innocence hit my chest gently, pushing the day’s exhaustion and tension farther away. I noticed how Liam instinctively kept Noah at a safe distance from the stove, one hand always ready at the small of his back movements far too natural to be accidental. He didn’t say much, but his care was evident in every small gesture.

Nothing looked fancy, but everything looked made with intention. The corn soup was still gently steaming, the roasted chicken golden brown, and a small bowl of simple salad sat in the corner with little details that usually went unnoticed, but tonight felt meaningful.

Noah looked up at me, eyes shining. “Mommy! I stirred the soup myself! Daddy only helped a little.”

Liam raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Only a little?”

“Noah did the most!” he replied quickly, then giggled.

I smiled and crouched down so I was level with Noah. ”

Thank you, Chef Noah. Mommy is really hungry.”

Noah nodded, satisfied, then ran back toward his littlestool. “I’m going to wash my hands again so they’re clean.”

As he walked away, I stood up and, without realizing it, found myself standing closer to Liam. Only a few inches separated us. I could smell the soap on his shirt, mixed with the scent of roasted chicken. There was a strange calm there, no awkwardness, no unspoken questions, just presence.

“I know you’re tired,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the moment. “I saw the news about your publishing meeting. Vina sent me a short message.”

1 looked at him, a little surprised. “She messaged you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She said you were amazing.”

Warmth spread through my chest. “That means a lot to me.”

Liam gave a small smile. “You deserve to hear it directly.”

I let out a slow breath, then leaned my hip against the kitchen counter. “Today was long. But the moment | walked in and saw you two it felt like half my exhaustion just melted away.”

He glanced at the pot of soup, then back at me. “That’s what home is supposed to feel like.”