The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 345

Chapter 345 He is ill

Mia

“We already have an uncle,” Ethan said finally. “We don’t need another one.”

“That’s okay too,” Kyle said. “There’s no wrong answer.”

After dinner. I started gathering the empty containers and plates, and Kyle moved to help.

“It’s bath time,” I announced to the children, who had migrated back to their toys on the living room

floor.

Alexander groaned dramatically. “But we just ate. You’re supposed to wait thirty minutes after eating before you do anything with water or you’ll get cramps and die.”

“That’s swimming, not bathing,” I corrected. “And you’re not going to die from taking a bath after dinner.”

“Can Kyle help with bath time?” Alexander asked hopefully, apparently having decided that any adult presence was potentially useful for negotiating extended play time.

“Kyle’s probably tired—”

“I don’t mind helping,” Kyle said quietly. “If you’d like me to.”

“I don’t mind helping with Alexander,” Kyle said quietly. “If you’d like me to.”

“Okay,” I said, making a quick decision. “You can help Alexander. I’ll take care of Madison and

Ethan.”

The logistics of bath time in our small apartment required careful coordination. I ran water in the main bathroom for Madison while Kyle helped Alexander in the half–bath, their voices carrying through the thin walls as Alexander provided his usual running commentary on proper hair- washing technique and the optimal amount of bubbles required for a successful bath.

I could hear Kyle’s patient responses, his voice gentle as he carefully rinsed shampoo from Alexander’s hair while the boy chattered about his day. Alexander seemed completely at ease with Kyle’s help, treating him like a familiar presence rather than a stranger.

Madison was more subdued during her bath, though she offered quiet observations about her bath toys and accepted my help with washing her hair without complaint. When she was clean and wrapped in a towel, I could hear Alexander’s delighted laughter from the other bathroom, followed by Kyle’s lower chuckle.

“Mia,” Madison said softly as I helped her into her pajamas, “Kyle is nice.”

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“Yes, he is,” I agreed.

“Is he going to stay?”

“No, sweetheart. He’s just visiting tonight.”

Madison nodded seriously.

After getting Madison settled with her stuffed animals, I went to collect Ethan for his bath. He was sitting on his bed, his posture rigid and his expression stormy.

“Your turn, Ethan,” I said gently.

He stood without comment and followed me to the bathroom, but his movements were stiff and reluctant. As I ran the water and checked the temperature, I could feel his mood radiating hostility.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I asked as he climbed into the tub. “You seem upset about something.”

Ethan shrugged, his eyes fixed on the water rather than my face. “I’m fine.‘

“Are you sure? You’ve been quiet since dinner.”

Another shrug.

11

I began washing his hair, noting the way he held himself apart from my touch, accepting the care but not welcoming it. This was Ethan’s version of a tantrum–not loud or dramatic like Alexander might be, but withdrawn and coldly polite.

“Ethan,” I said softly, working conditioner through his dark hair. “Are you unhappy about Kyle being here?”

His small jaw tightened. “I want to go to sleep,” he said flatly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m tired, Mama. Can I just finish my bath and go to bed?”

There was something in his voice, a kind of stubborn hurt that made my chest ache. I knew he was protecting me the only way he knew how, by shutting down and shutting out.

“Of course,” I said, letting the subject drop. “Let’s get you clean and into your pajamas.”

When I emerged from the bathroom with a pajama–clad but sulky Ethan, I found Kyle and Alexander in the living room, Alexander showing Kyle his collection of bedtime books with enthusiastic commentary.

“And this one is about a dragon who’s afraid of fire, which is silly because dragons are supposed to breathe fire, but maybe some dragons are different,” Alexander was explaining, his hair still damp

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from his bath and sticking up in all directions.

Kyle listened with genuine interest, asking appropriate questions about the dragon’s character development and the resolution of his fear–related conflict. His attention to Alexander’s detailed literary analysis was complete and patient, even though I could see the exhaustion in the careful way he held himself.

“Story time,” I announced when everyone was properly pajama–ed and settled in the bedroom.

“Can Kyle read to us?” Alexander asked, his voice already drowsy but still hopeful.

I looked at Kyle, who was sitting on the edge of Alexander’s bed. “Would you like to?”

Kyle nodded, accepting the book Alexander thrust into his hands. It was the story about the little wolf who thought he was a puppy.

I listened from the doorway as Kyle read.

Madison had climbed into Ethan’s bed to get a better view of the book’s illustrations. Alexander had positioned himself as close to Kyle as physically possible, his head eventually finding its way to rest against Kyle’s arm. Even Ethan had shifted slightly closer, though he maintained the pretense of reading his own book while clearly listening to Kyle’s voice.

When the story ended, Alexander was fighting sleep, his eyes heavy but determined to extend this magical evening as long as possible.

“Another story?” he mumbled hopefully.

“One story,” I said firmly. “It’s already past your bedtime.”

“But Kyle is here,” Alexander protested weakly. “We should have extra stories when we have guests.”

Kyle’s hand rested gently on Alexander’s head, his fingers threading through the boy’s dark hair. ” Your mama is right, buddy. You need your sleep.”

Alexander’s protest dissolved into a sleepy sigh. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

Kyle was quiet for a long moment, his eyes meeting mine across the darkened room. “I’ll try,” he said finally.

“Promise?” Alexander’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I promise I’ll try,” Kyle repeated, and somehow Alexander seemed satisfied with this qualified commitment.

Madison had already drifted off, her breathing deep and even. Kyle carefully tucked her blanket around her small shoulders, his movements gentle and instinctive.

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Alexander surrendered to sleep moments later, his breathing slowing and deepening as exhaustion finally claimed him. Kyle remained beside his bed for another moment, his hand still resting on the boy’s head, his expression soft with something that might have been wonder.

Only Ethan remained awake, sitting up in his bed with his book open in his lap.

“Good night, Ethan,” Kyle said quietly as he moved toward the door.

“Good night,” Ethan replied, his voice polite but empty of warmth.

Kyle paused in the doorway. “Sleep well.”

I turned off the overhead light, leaving only the small nightlight that cast everything in gentle

shadows. Ethan needed some time, I knew.

Kyle followed me out of the bedroom. “You should go back to the hospital,” I said.

Kyle nodded. “I know.”

In the hallway outside my apartment, Kyle paused, his hand resting on the doorframe for support. The fluorescent lighting was harsh against his pale skin, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes.

“Mia,” he started, then stopped.

“I didn’t want them to have no memories of you,” I said.

Kyle was quiet for a long moment, absorbing this explanation.

“These years must have been so hard for you,” he said.

“We managed,” I said.

“You did more than manage,” Kyle replied.

“I wasn’t completely alone,” I said. “There were people who helped.”

Kyle’s jaw tightened slightly. “Thomas.”

“Yes. Thomas.‘

“I should go,” Kyle said, pushing himself away from the doorframe with obvious effort. “Thank you. For tonight, for letting me see what it means to be their father, even if it was just for a few hours.”

I watched him walk slowly toward the elevator.

The elevator doors closed, and he was gone.

AIC

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I closed the door and made my way through the apartment, turning off lights and doing the small tasks that marked the end of another day. In the kitchen, I loaded the last of the dinner dishes into the dishwasher, the mechanical routine helping to settle my thoughts.

Finally, I went to check on the children, as I did every night before going to bed myself. I pushed open their bedroom door quietly, expecting to find all three of them sleeping peacefully.

Madison was curled on her side, her elephant clutched against her chest, breathing deeply and evenly. Alexander had sprawled across his bed in the boneless way that only children could achieve, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress.

But Ethan’s bed was empty.

I found him sitting on the floor beside the window, his knees drawn up to his chest, still in his pajamas but clearly wide awake. He was looking out at the city lights, his profile serious and contemplative in the dim light from the hallway.

“Ethan?” I whispered. “What are you doing awake, sweetheart?”

He turned toward me, his dark eyes reflecting the scattered light from outside. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I moved into the room and settled on the floor beside him, close enough to offer comfort but not so

close as to crowd him.

Ethan was quiet for a long moment, his gaze returning to the window. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but clear.

“Mom,” he said. “You said he is ill today.”

Chapter 346 Those Small Hearts