The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 395

Chapter 395 Aye

Mia’s POV

Kyle was trying not to laugh. I could tell by the way his shoulders were shaking and the careful blankness of his expression. Morton had given up on trying not to laugh and was actually grinning, one hand over his mouth.

Scarlett caught my eye and mouthed: “What just happened?”

1 shook my head. I had no idea.

“Now,” Alexander continued, apparently not done with his role as peace negotiator, “we need to have a meeting. About Kyle and the doctor and what happens next.

“A meeting?” Morton asked.

“A family meeting. That’s what we do at home when there are important decisions to make. Everyone sits in a circle and we talk about our feelings and then we vote.”

“We’re not voting on Kyle’s medical treatment,” I said quickly.

“Why not? It’s democratic.”

“Because democracy doesn’t apply to healthcare, buddy.”

“That seems like a flaw in the system.”

Ethan climbed back onto the bed, settling himself next to Kyle. “Alexander likes to vote on everything. Last week he wanted to vote on whether Gas could sleep in our room.’

“Gas won,” Alexander said. “Three to one.”

“I was the one,” Ethan clarified. “Gas snores.”

“So does Mama.”

“I do not snore.”

“You make a sound like a broken radiator.”

“That’s not snoring, that’s breathing.”

“It’s very loud breathing.”

Madison giggled. Actual giggling, bright and surprised, like she’d forgotten she could make that sound. “Mia does make a sound when she sleeps. But it’s not like a radiator. It’s more like… like when Gas is dreaming and his feet move.”

“I’m being insulted by five-year-olds,” I said to no one in particular. “This is where we are now.”

Morton had sat down in the chair Dr. Norbu had used, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He still looked wrung out, but the panic had faded from his eyes. “So the doctor thinks there’s a chance?

“He said he can’t promise anything,” I said carefully. “But he wants to try a combination approach. Traditional Eastern medicine combined with modified Western treatments.”

“And meditation,” Sophie added. “He was very clear about the meditation.”

“Meditation,” Morton repeated, like he was testing the word. “Kyle, you meditating. That’ll be something to see.”

“I can meditate.”

“You fell asleep during that yoga class Mia dragged us to.”

“That was years ago.”

“It was six months before your…divorce.”

Oh… That’s a little bit awkward, isn’t it?

Kyle’s face did something complicated. “That feels like several lifetimes ago.

“It was,” I said quietly.

The room went still again. That particular kind of stillness that comes when everyone is thinking the same thing but no one wants to be the first to say it out loud.

Scarlett broke it. “So what’s the actual plan? Day to day?”

“Dr. Norbu will come back tomorrow morning to start the treatment protocol,” I said. “He wants Kyle to do regular meditation sessions, take a specific combination of herbs and modified medications, and work on what he called ‘nervous system regulation.'”

“He also said,” Ethan added, because Ethan remembered everything, “that Kyle needs to stop feeling guilty. He said guilt sits on his chest like a fat cat and makes it hard to breathe.”

Everyone looked at Kyle.

Kyle looked at the ceiling. “The doctor is very perceptive.”

“Guilt about what?” Madison asked.

The question hung in the air. Kyle’s throat worked. His hand, the one not connected to an IV, clenched and unclenched on the blanket.

“About lots of things,” he said finally.

“But Dr. Norbu said you have to let go of it,” Alexander said. “He said keep the love and throw away the guilt.”

“Easier said than done, buddy.”

“That’s what grown-ups always say when they don’t want to do something hard. But hard things are still things you have to do.”

Morton made a sound that might have been a laugh or a cough. “The kid has a point.”

“The kid has several points,” Thomas said. “All of them valid.”

Sophie nodded. “Children are very wise about emotions. They have not yet learned to complicate simple truths with adult nonsense.”

“What’s adult nonsense?” Madison asked.

“It’s when grown-ups make easy things difficult because they’re scared,” Sophie said. “Like when someone should say ‘I’m sorry’ but instead they say ‘I apologize if you feel that way’ which is not actually an apology.”

“Or when someone should say ‘I love you’ but instead they buy expensive presents and hope that counts as the same thing,” Scarlett added, looking at Morton.

Morton shifted in his chair. “I do not do that.”

“You bought me a car.

“You needed a car.”

“I needed you to say you loved me. I got a BMW instead.”

“I said I loved you!”

“Eventually. After I threatened to return the BMW.’

“You would never return the BMW. You love that car.”

“I love you more than the car.”

“That’s good to know.”

Alexander was watching this exchange like it was a tennis match. “Why do grown-ups make everything so complicated?”

“Because we’re idiots,” Kyle said.

“That’s a mean word,” Madison said immediately.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. We’re… we struggle with direct communication.”

“Why?”

“Because being direct means being vulnerable and being vulnerable is scary.’

“But everyone is vulnerable,” Ethan said. “That’s just what being alive is.”

Thomas laughed. “The kid’s a philosopher.”

Ethan nodded. “We’ll come visit every day. And bring him things that make him happy. And remind him that he has people who need him to try.”

“And we’ll do meditation with him,” Madison said. “So he doesn’t have to do it alone.”

“And we’ll make him laugh,” Alexander added. “Because laughing is good medicine too. That’s what

Grandma used to say.”

“Your grandma was right,” Kyle said, his voice thick.

“So it’s decided.” Alexander looked around at everyone. “Kyle is going to try to get better and we’re all going to help and nobody gets to be guilty or sad or scared because those feelings sit on your chest like fat cats and make it hard to breathe.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what the doctor meant,” I started.

“It’s close enough,” Ethan said. “The principle is sound.”

Sophie had stopped crying enough to speak. “The small general is correct. We will all help. I will bring proper food-not this hospital garbage-and Thomas will bring his terrible attitude which for some reason Kyle seems to enjoy-”

“Hey,” Thomas protested.

“And we’ll bring rocks,” Alexander said, holding up his black stone. “From the river. So Kyle remembers that water and stones exist together by just being what they are.”

Kyle was crying now. Not loud crying. Just tears, running down his face while he held three children close and looked at me like I was something precious he’d almost lost.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. We’ll try.”

“That’s not good enough,” Alexander said firmly. “You have to promise.”

“Alexander-”

“Promise!”

Kyle looked at his son. “I promise I will try my absolute hardest to get better. And if I can’t get better,

I promise I’ll spend whatever time I have left being here with all of you. No more running away. No more guilt. Just… being here.”

“Good,” Alexander said, satisfied. “That’s a good promise.”

“Can we vote on it?” Ethan asked, “To make it official?”

“You want to vote on whether Kyle lives or dies?” Morton asked, sounding strangled.

“No. We want to vote on whether we accept his promise.”

Everyone looked at each other.

“All in favor of accepting Kyle’s promise,” Alexander said, raising his hand. “Say aye.”

“Aye,” Ethan said, raising his hand.

“Aye,” Madison said softly, raising hers.

One by one, the rest of us raised our hands.

“Aye,” I said.

“Aye,” Sophie and Thomas said together.

“Aye,” Scarlett and Morton said.

Kyle looked around at all of us, at the forest of raised hands, at the family he’d found and lost and found again.

“The ayes have it,” Alexander declared. “Motion passes. Meeting adjourned.”

And just like that, my five-year-old son had decided his father was going to live.

The universe would just have to keep up.