The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 418

Mia's POV

Someone draped a towel over my shoulders.

One of those enormous white ones. Hotel quality. Thick enough to feel heavy. Warm.

I pulled it tighter. My dress was ruined. The fabric clung to my skin. Water dripped from the hem. Pooling on the marble beneath my feet.

Sophie appeared beside me. She had another towel. Smaller. She wrapped it around my hair without asking. Started squeezing the water out with quick efficient motions.

"You scared us," she said quietly.

Her voice had lost that bright theatrical quality. Just flat. Real.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You almost drowned."

"I didn't—"

"You fell in a pool in heels and a dress that weighed ten pounds when it was dry. You would have drowned if Kyle hadn't—" She stopped. Her hands stilled in my hair.

I looked up at her.

Her face was tight. Eyes red. Like she'd been crying. Or trying very hard not to.

"You scared us," she said again.

Scarlett appeared on my other side. She had clothes. Dry clothes. A simple black dress. Flat shoes.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get you changed."

The bathroom was marble. Everything was marble. White with gray veins running through it.

Scarlett shut the door behind us. Locked it.

The sound of the party disappeared. Muted. Like someone had turned down the volume on the entire world.

I stood there dripping on expensive tile.

My hands found the zipper of my dress. Or what was left of it. The zipper was stuck. My fingers were shaking too much to work it properly.

Scarlett's hands replaced mine. "Let me."

She got it down. The dress fell away. Peeling off like dead skin.

I stood there in my underwear. Shivering. Not from cold. From something else.

Scarlett handed me the dry dress. I pulled it over my head. The fabric was soft. Warm. Clean.

The difference was immediate. Overwhelming.

I sat down on the closed toilet lid. My legs giving out.

Scarlett knelt in front of me. Started working on drying my legs with another towel. Gentle. Careful.

"You need to talk to him," she said.

"I know."

"He almost killed himself diving for those rings."

"I know."

Her hands stilled.

I looked at her.

The door opened. Sophie came in without knocking. She had two glasses. Steam rising from them.

"Mulled wine," she announced. "Medicinal purposes."

She handed one to me. One to Scarlett.

The glass was warm against my palm. The smell hit first. Cinnamon. Cloves. Orange. That particular spicy sweetness.

I took a sip. The wine was hot. Almost too hot. It burned going down. But in a good way. Warming everything from the inside.

Sophie leaned against the sink. Her red dress still perfect.

Scarlett stood. Smoothed down her dress. "I'll go tell kids mommy's fine. That she's just changing clothes."

"Thank you," I said.

She nodded. Squeezed my shoulder once. Then left.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Sophie and I sat in silence. Just the sound of wine being sipped. Steam rising from both our glasses.

"He loves you very much," Sophie said finally.

"Don't."

"What? I'm simply stating a fact."

"It's not that simple."

"It was an accident."

"But accidents can hurt people."

"You're right. But I'm okay. See?" I pulled back. Let him look at me. "Not hurt."

His eyes moved over my face. Serious. Checking. Making sure.

Then he nodded. Satisfied.

Ethan touched my arm. "Kyle... daddy saved you."

"He did."

"He went underwater to get you. I saw him. He went down twice."

Sophie appeared beside us. She had Thomas with her.

"Children," she announced. "Thomas is going to take you to get more dessert. Something chocolate. Something very expensive and very bad for you."

Alexander's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really. Go. Eat sugar until you vibrate."

Thomas looked at her. "That's terrible parenting advice."

"I'm not their parent. I'm their auntie Sophie. Different rules."

The children didn't need to be told twice. They were already moving toward the dessert table. Thomas following behind them. Looking resigned but also slightly amused.

I watched them go.

"You need to talk to him," Sophie said.

"I know."

"Now. Before he disappears again."

She was right.

I stood. The rings still in my hand. I looked at them. Really looked.

Two simple gold bands. Scratched. Worn. Five years of history etched into the metal.

"Where is he?" I asked.

Sophie pointed. "Outside. On the terrace."