Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 259

Sienna’s POV

I chose to pick up Noah myself today. After everything that happened at the publishing office, my head felt too full, and somehow all I wanted was to see my son’s face.

As if doing that would help my breathing return to normal.

I sat in the back seat of the taxi, leaning against the seat while watching the streets pass by through the window.

The hum of the engine was steady, soft enough not to disturb me, real enough to keep me awake.

My hands rested on the bag in my lap, fingers unconsciously intertwined an old habit whenever my thoughts became too crowded.

After the meeting at the publishing office earlier, I knew I wasn’t capable of driving myself. My head throbbed lightly, not from pain, but from too many things pushing to be thought through at once.

Decisions, courage, and the shadows of the past blended together. So I ordered a taxi, choosing to sit quietly and Let someone else carry my body to the next destination.

The taxi driver turned on the radio softly. An old song played something about loss or coming home. I didn’t really listen.

My eyes followed the silhouettes of tall buildings slowly giving way to trees and rows of small shops. Each changein scenery pulled me farther from the cold meeting room and back into a simpler life.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. But instead, Noah’s face appeared. His innocent smile, the way his brows furrowed whenever he tried to look serious, his small laugh that always sounded sincere.

limagined how he would probably run toward me when he saw me later, his bag slung crookedly, his shoelaces likely untied. The thought made the corners of my lips lift without me realizing it.

My phone vibrated inside my bag. I didn’t take it out right away. 1 knew that whatever it was, it would pull me back into the adult world into responsibilities, conflicts, and unfinished matters.

For these few minutes, I wanted to stay in this small space between exhaustion and calm, accompanied only by the sound of the engine and traffic.

I turned to the window, catching a faint reflection of my face in the glass. There were lines of fatigue there, but also something else, quiet determination, slowly growing.

I was no longer a woman who crumbled easily because of one difficult day. At least, I was learning.

The traffic light forced the taxi to stop. I watched the pedestrians on the sidewalk: a mother holding her child’s hand, two students laughing while nudging each other, a drink vendor busy serving customers.Life went on simple and unpretentious. And for the first time today, I didn’t feel left behind.

Well be at the school soon, Ma’am,” the taxi driver said kindly, breaking my thoughts.

I nodded softly. “Yes, thank you.”

My chest felt a little lighter. Not everything had to be solved today. Sometimes, all I really needed was to pick up my child, hold his hand, and remind myself where I was going home to.

When the taxi stopped in front of the elementary school gate, I immediately saw Noah standing near the fence.

Usually he would jump around or wave excitedly as soon as he saw me. But not this time. His shoulders were slumped, his bag hung carelessly, and his steps were slow.

My heart pinched.

I got out of the car and crouched down as he approached. ”

Hey, champ,” I greeted him gently. “Why do you look so gloomy?”

Noah stopped in front of me. His eyes dropped to his shoes, then his lips puckered. “Mom,” his voice was small, almost a whisper.

“Yes?” I stroked his hair.

“My pencil case is gone.”

His tone was confused. Not angry. More like disappointed.

I brushed his cheek with my thumb. “Maybe Bam really needed it, but he didn’t dare to say anything. Or maybe he was afraid you’d be mad.”

Noah lowered his head. “Noah wouldn’t be mad.”

I smiled softly. My child was too kind for a world that could sometimes be cruel.

“How about this,” I said gently. “What if we buy a new pencil case?”

Noah lifted his face. His eyes brightened a little, but quickly dimmed again. “What about the old one, Mommy?”

“We’ll think of the old pencil case as helping someone who needs it,” I replied. “And today Noah learned one thing that sharing sometimes means losing something, but it also makes our hearts bigger.”

He nodded, though without much enthusiasm.

We walked toward the waiting taxi. I opened the door and helped him in. Noah sat quietly beside me, hugging hisbag.

I gave the driver the address. “To the mall, please.”

The car started moving, leaving the schoolyard behind. I glanced at Noah and then held his hand.

He squeezed mine gently, his fingers small but warm. He. stared ahead, watching the road slide slowly past the window.

I could tell his thoughts were still circling around that pencil case, a small object that might seem trivial to adults, but for a child his age carried feelings of ownership, pride, and fairness.