The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 439

Mia's POV

The table goes silent.

Every adult freezes.

Madison's hand grips my arm. "Mommy, what's sex life?"

Oh God.

"It's—" I start.

"I know!" Alexander announces. He's still standing on his chair. "It's when grown-ups use very BIG voices to say 'GOOD' to each other!"

Ethan nods seriously. "Very loud. We hear it sometimes when Uncle Morton visits Aunt Scarlett."

"HEARD," Morton corrects, his face now the color of the tomatoes in the burrata. "Past tense. That doesn't—we don't—"

"And sometimes they say 'OH GOD,'" Madison adds helpfully. "Like they're praying. Very loudly."

Thomas chokes on his prosecco.

"We understand grown-up stuff," Alexander continues proudly. "We're very mature."

My head is pounding. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

"Sweethearts," I say carefully. "That's not—"

"Yes it is," Ethan insists. "Grown-ups say 'good' very loudly. Sometimes 'yes' too. Sometimes 'don't stop.' It means they're happy about life. Sex life. Like...six life? But spelled different?"

"Oh my God," Scarlett mutters. She sits back down. Hard. Reaches for her glass.

"SEE!" Alexander points at her. "She just said 'Oh my God!' That's sex life!"

Kyle's shoulders are shaking. He's trying not to laugh.

Trying. And failing.

"This is not funny," I hiss at him.

"It's a little funny," he wheezes.

"Also," Madison says thoughtfully, "sometimes there's music. And the bed makes squeaky sounds. Like a song."

"I'm going to die," Morton says to no one in particular. "Right here. In this restaurant."

"The rhythm is very consistent," Ethan observes. "Approximately 120 beats per minute. I counted once."

"YOU COUNTED?" Scarlett's voice is strangled.

"I was practicing my math. Multiplication tables. It helped me fall back asleep."

My mother has her face buried in Hugo's shoulder. Her entire body is shaking with silent laughter.

Hugo is trying to maintain composure. Failing.

Sophie is not even trying. She's laughing openly. Tears streaming down her face.

"This is the best day of my life," she gasps between laughs.

"Sophie," I warn.

"No, no, let them continue. I need to hear more about Morton's sex li—"

"DON'T," Morton and Scarlett say simultaneously.

Their eyes meet across the table.

Then they both look away quickly.

"Why is everyone being weird?" Alexander asks. "We're just explaining what we know."

"You know nothing," I say firmly. "Nothing at all. You know NOTHING."

"We know about the good sounds—"

"NOPE."

"And the music—"

"NO."

"And one time Uncle Morton said a bad word really loud—"

"ALEXANDER."

Alexander's mouth snaps shut.

"We do not," I say slowly, "discuss what we hear through walls. Ever. Do you understand?"

"But you asked what sex life was—"

"I did not. Madison asked. And I'm telling you now—we don't talk about this. At restaurants. Or anywhere. Ever."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not a real reason."

"It is when you're six."

Ethan raises his hand. Like we're in school.

"Ethan, no—"

"I just want to clarify. Are we in trouble for answering the question? Or for having the information in the first place?"

"Neither. Both. I don't know. Please just stop talking."

"But proper communication is important for healthy family dynamics—"

"ETHAN."

"Okay. Stopping now."

There's a blessed moment of silence.

Then Madison says, very quietly, "Is sex life a bad thing?"

"No!" I say too quickly. "It's just—it's private. Like going to the bathroom. We don't talk about other people's private things."

"But Uncle Morton does it very loud. That's not private."

Thomas makes a sound like a dying walrus.

"Look at this fork!" My mother holds up a fork. "Isn't this a beautiful fork?"

The children are distracted. Thank God. They're examining the silverware now.

Scarlett has her head in her hands. "I can't believe I just said that. Out loud. In front of children."

"You've had a lot of prosecco," Morton says quietly.

"That's not an excuse."

"It's an explanation."

She looks at him. Her eyes are too bright. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"I should hate you."

"But you don't."

Across the table, Thomas is studying his wine glass very intently. Not looking at Scarlett. Not looking at Sophie.

Sophie, however, is watching everything with the focus of a hawk.

"This is better than any reality show," she murmurs.

The children have moved on. Their attention spans are blessedly short.

Alexander is now trying to balance his fork on his finger. Ethan is timing him with an imaginary stopwatch. Madison is giggling.

Normal. We're back to normal.

Then Hugo clears his throat.

"Children," he says gently. "May I tell you a story?"

Three heads turn toward him.

"A story?" Alexander asks. "Like with dragons?"

"Perhaps. Would you like to hear it?"

"YES!" all three children chorus.

Hugo begins.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a brave knight who had been cursed by a dark sorcerer."

"How dark?" Alexander interrupts.

"Very dark. The curse made the knight tired. Weak. The kingdom's healers tried everything they could think of. Magic potions. Enchanted herbs. Powerful spells."

Ethan is listening intently. "Did any of it work?"

"Some of it helped. For a while. But the curse was very strong."

"Hugo—" he starts. His voice is low. Warning.

Hugo meets his eyes. There's something gentle there. Understanding.

"Just a story," he says quietly. "Nothing more."