Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 177

177

Sienna’s POV

Our conversation with Liliana lasted almost two hours before we parted ways in front of the café. Her smile was typical of hers, and I gave her a gentle wave.

Prior to getting into her car, she urged people not to forget about their vacation.

“I chuckled and nodded in agreement. Let’s go over it.”

As she drove off, I stood on the sidewalk for a moment. I was under the gentle peat–and–white breeze from the afternoon, with lingering coffee aromas from downstairs and the scent of fresh flowers from outside. I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I experienced a warm yet nervous sensation when I remembered Liam’s words about his mother wanting to meet me that morning. This was a heartfelt sentiment.

As I walked, I felt the gentle sun set behind me and gently patted my face on the sidewalk. Despite the busy traffic across the street, there were only a few sounds of footsteps, engine noises, and laughter from dozens of students as they exited one of the bookstores. Somehow, everything felt alive today.

Perhaps Liliana was introduced to me earlier. It was nice to talk to someone without weighing every word, and without pretending to be strong. Despite everything, Liliana was still warm, honest, and always capable of making me laugh at any moment. Even after the lighthearted exchange ended, my thoughts reverted to tonight’s meeting.

Liam’s mother. Mrs. Wilson. My heart raced after hearing her name.‘ The. The reason why I felt uncomfortable around her was not due to her unkind behavior, but because of the distance between us. She was the kind of woman who carried herself with dignity and control, a matriarch who maintained the family’s honor above all else. Liam’s life was brought to the world by his daughter–in–law, not through love.

My eyes met the road as I took a deep breath. Maybe I could have pushed back the meeting for a few more weeks, but Liam hadn’t mentioned it this morning. However, his voice conveyed to me that this was not a mere request. The message was sincere and could have been a hint of optimism.

A small smile flickered across my face, despite the presence of fear. The moment was unforgettable. Maybe this was necessary if I truly wanted to start over.

While walking down the street, I observed the rows of shops. My initial impression of a boutique with pastel colors was followed by observing tulips at the entrance. I stopped, watching the petals sway in the breeze. Peaceful and unadorned, this is the kind of thing I aspired to plant again.

I had the intention of stopping by and buying something to bring with me tonight. It’s important to avoid arriving without anything, but it’ll also come with a price tag. A polite and sweet gesture that could make the day more bearable.

In a bakery, I had to stop my walk. An assortment of delightful cakes, covered with delicate frosting and adorned with fruit and sugar flowers, graced the display window. I maintained my gaze for an extended period, feeling warmth in my chest.

I said, “I bet you she’d like this.”

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177

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After unlocking the glass door, I heard a small bell overhead. The scent of sweetness caught my eye as I sniffed it briefly. A staff member approached politely.

“Would you like to order a cake for today?”

I nodded off and looked at a medium–sized tart that had strawberries and delicate flower decorations.

“This one. Would it be acceptable to top with the phrase “Thank you for everything.”

She replied with a warm “Of course,” and wrote, “Is it for an occasion?”

My face flickered with a faint smile. “Yes, that’s correct.”

As I waited, I observed the batter being poured into pans behind the glass kitchen at a small table by the window. It was calming to watch simple things turn into beautiful things, such as sugar, flour, eggs and more.

It was sweet vanilla with butter and cinnamon thrown in. I felt a sense of nostalgia for my childhood, when my mother would bake cakes on quiet afternoons. I laid my elbows on the small table, staring outside with a grimy smile. The sky was changing color to orange as the sun began to set. People strolled along the sidewalk carrying either shopping bags or coffee cups. I felt like I was moving with the world, and that’s how it all began.

The open kitchen drew my attention. A young baker prepares a cake with great care. His motions were composed and deliberate, as if every turn of the spatula was significant. I found myself quietly mesmerized. A gentle flow, tenderness in the heart of all. It was pure and simple.

Suddenly, I experienced the memory of my former glory, when I used to bake for Liam at the beginning of our marriage. This is so poignant. I could still remember how he would take a small bite and then simply say, “It’s good,” without even saying anything. The scene was so unexpected. I believed he didn’t really enjoy it at that time. A week later, I found the jar filled with my cookies in his study.

That moment made me smile softly. Perhaps my focus had been wandering towards insignificant details, preventing me from taking notice. Uncelebrated details may lead to the development of love, or its name, rather than grand gestures.

I exhaled gently, my fingers barely tracing the edge of my cold coffee cup. Tonight, I’d meet Liam’s mother. Despite feeling slightly more prepared this time, my chest tightened up again when I thought about it. I didn’t want to come in that way as the shy, unsure woman I was.