The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 423

Mia's POV

The Pilates mat was unforgiving under my spine.

"Breathe in through your nose," the video instructor said from my laptop. Her voice was that particular brand of wellness-industry soothing. The kind that made you feel simultaneously relaxed and inadequate. "Hold for three. Two. One. And release."

I breathed.

In through my nose. The air felt cool. Clean. The apartment smelled like the lavender oil diffuser I had bought me last week.

I held. Three seconds felt like thirty.

Then released.

My core muscles trembled.

"Now engage your pelvic floor," the instructor continued. "Pull everything up and in. Like you're trying to stop the flow of urine mid-stream."

Jesus Christ.

Why did Pilates instructors always use bathroom metaphors?

But I did it anyway. Engaged. Pulled up. Felt muscles I'd forgotten existed wake up and protest.

Gas was lying in the corner. Watching me. Her head tilted to one side. That expression dogs get when they're trying to understand human behavior and failing completely.

"Don't judge me," I told her.

Her tail wagged once. Thump against the hardwood.

From the living room came the sound of construction. Not real construction. Lego construction.

Alexander's voice carried: "No, Ethan! The spaceship needs wings here! Not there!"

"That's structurally unsound," Ethan replied. His voice had that particular patience. The kind that suggested he'd explained this seventeen times already. "The weight distribution will make it topple."

"But it looks cooler this way!"

"Cool doesn't defy physics."

"Why not?"

"Because physics doesn't care about aesthetics."

Madison's quieter voice: "Maybe we could do both? Wings that are cool and also physics?"

A pause.

Then Alexander: "Madison, you're a genius."

The instructor on my laptop moved into something that looked like torture. "Now lift your right leg. Keep it straight. Pulse for thirty seconds. And remember—"

I stopped the video.

Closed the laptop with more force than necessary.

My phone said 11:47 AM.

I had only to say, the thing about Dr. Norbu—Dr. Tenzin Norbu, with his burgundy robes and his impossible calm—was that he affected everyone.

Gas followed me into the living room.

The Lego construction had evolved into something that looked like it defied several laws of physics and possibly violated some architectural codes.

"Mama!" Alexander spotted me first. His face lit up the way it always did. Like seeing me was the best thing that had happened all morning. "Look! We made a space station that's also a castle!"

"That's very impressive."

"And it has a drawbridge," Madison added. She pointed to a section that did indeed appear to be a drawbridge. "For when the aliens come to visit but you want to make sure they're friendly first."

"Practical."

Ethan was studying the structure with his arms crossed. That particular pose. The one that meant he was calculating something.

"The center of gravity is off," he announced. "If we add the tower section Alexander wants, the whole thing will collapse."

"It will not!"

"It will. Basic physics."

"You always say that."

"Because it's always true."

I sat down on the couch. Let myself sink into the cushions. My body felt heavy and light at the same time. That post-exercise feeling.

"Mama?" Madison's voice was soft. She'd come to sit beside me. Her small body pressed against my side. "Why aren't you going to work today?"

All three children were looking at me now.

Alexander had abandoned the Lego spaceship-castle entirely. Ethan had put down whatever piece he'd been examining.

Three pairs of eyes. Brown and watchful.

"I needed a day," I said. "To prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Alexander asked.

"Something big happening tomorrow."

"How big?" His eyes went wide. "Like birthday big? Or like Christmas big?"

"Different big."

"Is it bad big?" Madison's voice got smaller. Her fingers found the hem of my shirt. Twisted it slightly. That nervous gesture.

"No, baby. Not bad. Just important."

Ethan was watching me with that look. The one that said he knew I wasn't telling them everything. But he also knew not to push.

"Important like a meeting?" he asked carefully.

"Sort of."

"Can we help?"

These three small humans. Looking at me with such earnest faces.

"You already are helping," I said. "Just by being you."

I'd put on music. Something upbeat. That playlist I'd made months ago when I needed to feel alive while doing mundane tasks.

The speaker on the counter played some reggaeton song. Bass heavy. Rhythm that made your hips want to move.

I was in the middle of enjoying it when the music changed.

From the gentle background rhythm to something else. Something with more beat. More life.

Salsa music.

Bright horns. Percussion. That particular energy that made your body want to move.

I must have accidentally hit next on my playlist.

But Madison had already started spinning. Her dress flaring out. Her face tilted up toward the ceiling.

Ethan spun too. Slower. More controlled. But he was still spinning.

"Come on, Mama!" Alexander said.

Alexander grabbed my hand again. My little teacher started pulling me into a spin.

I let him. I put my arms out and started turning.

Slowly at first. Then faster.

Faster and faster.

The room blurred. Colors running together. The couch becoming the bookshelf becoming the windows becoming the door becoming everything and nothing.

The music got louder. Or maybe my heartbeat got louder. I couldn't tell the difference.

Alexander was laughing. That pure, bright sound.

Madison was giggling. Spinning nearby.

Ethan's face had transformed into something open. Something light.

I was laughing too as I spun faster.

The world dissolved. Edges disappearing. Everything becoming motion and music and the particular vertigo that came from surrendering to rotation.

Joy, maybe.

All of us orbiting some invisible center. Creating our own small solar system in the living room.

I spun and spun and spun.

Until everything felt soft and warm and slightly impossible.

Then slowly—so slowly—I started to stop.

The spin losing momentum. Gravity reasserting itself. The world beginning to solidify again.

The room came back into focus, piece by piece.

The bookshelf. The couch. The windows.

The children. All three of them. Also stopping. Also swaying. Also coming back to earth.

Alexander's face was flushed. His hair sticking up in seventeen directions.

Madison's eyes were bright.

Ethan was breathing hard. His chest rising and falling.

I blinked. The haze clearing.

Everything settling back into its proper place.

The music still playing. But quieter now. Or maybe my ears were just adjusting.

Then I saw him.

Standing in the doorway. Between the living room and the hallway.

Kyle.

He was leaning against the doorframe. Like he'd been there for a while. Just watching.