Forgotten Wife My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left (Clara and Liam) novel Chapter 325

Emily’s POV

I clenched my hand in my lap, my nails digging into my skin until a faint pain bloomed. At least physical pain was easier to face than this feeling of being sidelined. Liam was always good at it pretending to be calm, mature, as if all of this were merely professional. As if my feelings were nothing more than a minor inconvenience he needed to brush aside before returning to his “perfect” life.

I exhaled softly. Sienna. That name again. The name he always used as a shield, a boundary, a reason not to look at me too long. Ironically, he never needed a reason to choose me before. Back then, a single glance was enough to tell him where he wanted to go after a long day. Now? I wasn’t even worth an hour of dinner without a moral lecture.

I shifted my chair, leaning forward slightly. The glass of wine before me was still full. I lifted it to my lips, took a small sip, but it tasted bitter whether from the wine or my thoughts, I couldn’t tell.

This restaurant was too luxurious, too bright, too full of people who didn’t care. Everyone was laughing, chatting, their lives moving smoothly without the kind of drama that ate away from the inside. I envied their ignorance.

My hand returned to my phone. The screen lit up, reflecting my own face neat, controlled, the movie star who always knew what she wanted. But behind it, there was a fire that hadn’t gone out. I wasn’t a woman who was used to losing. Especially not in a way like this: slowly erased, replaced by a safer version of Liam’s life.

I remembered the way he’d sighed before leaving. As if I were a burden. As if I were a memory that should have already died. My chest burned with an anger more honest than sadness.

If he thought keeping his distance would make everything end, he was terribly wrong. I hadn’t come this far just to become a footnote in his life.

I glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention. This corner of the restaurant was private enough. Good. I needed space to think, to plan my next move.

Willy always said I had to choose the right timing the moment when all the cards were already in my hands. And now? Now I was just waiting for confirmation that I wasn’t alone in this game.

My chair creaked softly as I leaned back again. My thoughts raced contracts, filming schedules, rumors that could be twisted, photos that could be “misunderstood.” I didn’t want to destroy Liam. Not completely. I just wanted him to stop pretending our past meant nothing. That I meant nothing.

The restaurant door opened, and Willy rushed in, dressed in his signature black suit. He spotted me and quickly walked over to the table. As soon as he sat down, he placed a large brown envelope on the table.

“These are all the photos we got. There are some good angles,” he said.

I took the envelope, opened it, and spilled its contents onto the table. Dozens of photos scattered across the surface. Photos of Liam and me sitting across from each other, me smiling, him looking flat. Photos of me stirring my soup, him rubbing the back of his tense neck. Photos of me leaning forward, him avoiding my gaze.

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