Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 167

Sienna’s POV

I resorted to minor things, such as warming up the soup I bought, setting the dinner table, and possibly placing toast on my child’s plate. It was obvious from the smell of warm food that he was so excited to see it and then invite Liam out for dinner.

Just that snapshot brought a smile to my face.

It could be that happiness was meant to feel authentic and peaceful, rather than being extravagant or unexpected.

The taxi moved again. As Noah fell asleep, the lights of the nearby shops reflected off his face and began to dance across it. Then he slowly lifted his head towards me until it just lay on my arm. I gazed at him without pause, brushing his hair softly to prevent any disturbance. It had that tender pain in my chest, like the discovery of a lost part.

I understood that this journey wasn’t solely about returning home from school. It was symbolic, a new beginning for us, an emerging friendship, and reassurance that hope would slowly fill the empty spaces between us.

The vehicle veered onto our roadway. The temperature inside the car remained unchanged, making it seem like nothing was so alarming before.

Holding this small, fragile moment in my mind, I closed my eyes for a moment and let

A drowsy voice from Noah broke the silence. “What’s dinner tonight, Mom?”

I chuckled and said, “May I ask you to make spaghetti and chicken soup?”

Without delay, he sat down with his eyes sparkling. “Thank you! Mommy’s cooking?”

“Yes. Mommy’s cooking it myself.”

He asked with enthusiasm, “Are you available for me to assist?”

“You can, of course,” I said, squeezing his cheek. “Just make sure it’s safe to touch.”

He held up his pinky and exclaimed, “Come on!”

I hooked on his and we both laughed heart–in–hand.

1. go.

As it pulled over, the car stopped just in front of the house. The golden light of dusk shone through Noah’s face, giving him a small glimpse of the world‘ magic. I paid the driver and took his hand as we walked through the gate.

He looked towards the door and inquired, “Mommy, is Daddy still at home?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. He’ll be back home soon,” I softly replied.

The house was warm even though the lights were not on, and we had to step inside. I tucked the shopping bags

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on the kitchen counter as Noah, eagerly anticipating my actions, removed his shoes and leaped onto the sofa.

With a smile on his face, he asked, “Can I offer my help to you?”

I laughed and nodded my head in delight. “You can do it. Wash your hands first, little chef.”

I observed him standing near the sink, arms extending, to reach the faucet. It was quite an odd look. His chirping made the kitchen lively. He was singing a gentle melody that may have been learned in school.

I observed the scene as I stacked the groceries: spaghetti, new tomatoes, minced meat and some vegetables.

My response to the chef’s request was, “What’d you call it?”

He finished, saying “Mommy, done!” and wiped clean his hands with a tissue.

The ingredients caught his attention as he approached me with wide glasses and exuberant expressions.

“What do we make first?”

“Mommy will boil the spaghetti first.”

“Maybe I can lend a hand and help with the sauce later,” I said softly.

Standing next to me, ‘just like that‘ Roger on this big mission.

Then I turned on the stove and waited for the water to boil. Noah slowly stirred the sauce while holding onto the wooden spoon with his small hands, occasionally checking for any errors. It was a perfect moment.

“It smells just like a restaurant, Mommy.” He said softly.

I had a mild laugh when they suggested we name our restaurant.

“Mommy and Noah’s Restaurant.”

Excited, he held his hands. “Yes!” is the answer.

“Mommy, that is the ultimate name.

Our team worked in that small kitchen like they were cooking the most significant meal of their lives. Noah got up to the counter on a wooden stool, while I chopped parsley and grated cheese.

He asked, “Can you please squirt me some sauce?” with a longing.

I laughed. “Alright, right, it’s still hot.”

With the end of a spoon, blew on it and tasted very carefully what he.

His face lit up with joy. “It’s a beautiful sight! You’re the ultimate cook, mom!!

“Really?” I teased,

“Yes!”

There would be no cooking competition available. We would both emerge victorious if I offered my assistance.

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Our laughter filled the room. It felt as though no evil had ever impacted our lives. All things were bright, pure and simple. It wasn’t just the stove warming up the kitchen, Noah was there to watch me out. I was watched by a little boy with admiration, as if my every action was something exceptional.

The clock on the wall caught my attention while I waited for the pasta to be ready. It was almost six. As the sun began to disappear, it was evident that a soft orange light was shining through the curtains. Upon seeing Noah’s serious face as his sauce was being stirred, I noticed that his hair was slightly frizzy and his nose was pink due

to the heat.

It was a moment of both beauty and simplicity.

I breathed deeply, embracing the heat that rose inside me.

At a certain point, scenes like this had been unfamiliar to me an empty dining table, stumbling house, and aching heart.

Noah’s laughter and the smell of homemade food made everything feel alive again. I can still remember these

moments.

“Mommy, I’d be a great restaurant chef,” he said suddenly. “What could that mean?”

“Very well,” I sighed. “And Mommy will work as Chef Noah’s helper. What can you say?”

He swiftly shook his head. “No, not at all! Mommy is the rightful owner of this restaurant. Why? I’ll solely focus on cooking.”

I faked a false impression that I was caught off guard. “The big man?”

“Mommy needs to wear a suit and sit in an office, right?”

Noah burst out laughing. “Yes! It is important to share a meal in the kitchen.”

I laughed along with him. The way he spoke made me feel like I could never be alone again as long as my life was with him.

The pot’s steam output increased significantly. I turned off the stove and declared, “Ok, Chef, it’s all set.

With the sauce thickened and the spaghetti was ready, Noah looked on with pride. “We finished it, Mommy!”

With tenderness, I gazed at him. “Yes, we did. You were amazing today.”

We were sitting at the dining table, enjoying our meal together. While watching him eat with enthusiasm, Noah’s laughter and his conversation about his new friends brought a sense of calm and serenity to the room.

Looking at Noah, I whispered to myself, this is the essence of life.

What was lost is not the focus, it’s what I can still feel grateful for today.

Despite everything, I am thankful for having Noah and the chance to start over.

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