Forgotten Wife: My Ex-Husband Regrets It After I Left novel Chapter 178

178

Sienna’s Perspective

Across the café, a young couple shared a slice of cake, their laughter light and carefree as they leaned toward each other. Their ease was infectious, as if the weight of the world didn’t exist for them in that moment. Watching them brought a soft smile to my lips. It struck me how long it had been since I’d simply sat with someone, enjoying the present without the nagging worries of tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to relearn that simple joy—slowly, cautiously.

The familiar clerk approached my table again, carrying the cake I had ordered. “Your cake is ready!” she said cheerfully. The cake itself was modest but elegant, decorated with a delicate design and inscribed with a heartfelt message of gratitude that seemed to glow quietly in the soft café light.

I glanced over the cake, pride swelling within me. Perhaps those words were meant not only for Liam’s mother but for me as well—for the small act of courage that had pushed me forward when I needed it most.

Minutes later, the cake was carefully boxed in a cream-colored container, tied with a gentle pink ribbon. After paying, I thanked the clerk and stepped out of the building into the afternoon air.

As I wandered down the street, I noticed a quaint flower shop tucked at the corner. The moment I stepped inside, the mingling scents of roses and jasmine enveloped me. Behind the counter, a woman in her middle years looked up and greeted me with a warm, knowing smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss. Are you looking for flowers for someone special?” she asked kindly.

I didn’t hesitate, my eyes drawn to the neat rows of white roses and lilies, accented with delicate sprigs of baby’s breath. The arrangement felt gentle, pure—exactly what I needed.

“Someone very important,” I replied softly.

The woman nodded knowingly. “This mixed bouquet would be perfect.” She selected the blooms with care, arranging the roses and lilies with baby’s breath nestled between them to create a soft, elegant harmony.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, touched by how well the colors matched the tenderness I felt inside.

She wrapped the flowers with a practiced hand and asked, “Is this for your mother?”

I smiled faintly, the words feeling official as I answered, “Yes. For my mother.”

After paying, I stepped back outside, holding both the cake and the bouquet. Though they were just objects, they carried a significance far beyond their appearance.

The afternoon breeze brushed past me, carrying the sweet scent of flowers and sugar. For the first time in a long while, I felt ready to face something new—without clinging to the past.

Pausing beneath the soft red glow of the setting sun, I looked up at the sky and whispered quietly, “I hope she likes them,” before making my way home.

—

The sky was painted with shades of orange and lilac as the sun slowly dipped toward the western horizon. Shadows stretched and danced along the street, flickering in the warm glow reflecting off the shop windows. Clutching the cake box and bouquet, I hoped they might lend me some courage for the evening ahead.

Cars sped past, engines humming and horns occasionally piercing the air. I resisted the urge to call a cab immediately, choosing instead to walk a little longer. It was a rare moment of calm—something my life, usually filled with unending routines and little rest, seldom allowed. Each step felt like a small victory.

I eventually found myself at a quiet park by the roadside, settling onto an empty bench beneath a sakura tree whose bark was beginning to peel. From here, I watched children darting about in play, parents lounging on the grass, and an elderly man gently tossing crumbs to a flock of pigeons. The world felt peaceful in this gentle bubble.

After the call ended, I glanced once more at the sky. The evening breeze hastened the fading light, scattering petals around me. Between the drifting blossoms and the sunset, a new calm settled deep within my heart.

Tonight marked the start of something significant—an opening to possibilities I couldn’t yet foresee. I wasn’t sure how it would all end.

Rising from the bench, I smoothed my clothes and tightened my grip on the cake and flowers.

“Time to go home,” I whispered to myself, stepping toward the road now glowing softly with the city’s first evening lights.

—

“Mommy!”

“Are you home?” I asked, gently smoothing his messy hair.

“Yeah! Daddy dropped me off at school. They had ice cream, and everyone was so happy,” he said, looking toward Liam, who was just closing the door behind him.