The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 441

Mia's POV

Everyone stares.

"Don't what?" Sophie asks innocently.

"Don't do a contract marriage. Don't do a fake marriage. Don't do any—" She waves her hand in a circle. "—any arrangement where you think you can keep feelings out of it."

"I'm not—"

"I'm WARNING you." Scarlett leans forward. Nearly tips out of her chair. Morton's hand shoots out. Steadies her. "You think you're so smart. So sophisticated. You think you can have the benefits without the—the—" She snaps her fingers. Trying to find the word. "—the heart stuff."

"Heart stuff?" Thomas repeats.

"YES. The heart stuff. The feeling stuff. The part where you wake up next to someone and they're—they're—" Her voice gets wobbly. "—they're supposed to mean nothing but they mean EVERYTHING and you can't take it back and you're RUINED."

"Scarlett," Morton says. Very gently. "Maybe we should get you home."

"I don't want to go home. I want to stay here and warn people about contract marriages because they're STUPID and I was STUPID and—" She stops. Looks at him. Her eyes suddenly filling.

Oh god.

The children are watching this with fascination.

Madison's mouth is slightly open. Alexander is leaning forward like he's watching his favorite TV show.

Even Ethan looks interested.

"Okay!" I stand up. Too bright. Too loud. "We should go. The kids are tired. It's been a long day. Madison's big day! Her adoption day! Which is happy! Everything is happy!"

"You're using a lot of exclamation points," Ethan observes.

"That's because I'm ENTHUSIASTIC."

"You sound slightly unhinged."

"Ethan."

My mother stands too. Thank god. "I'll get their coats."

"But we didn't get dessert," Alexander protests. "They have tiramisu. Hugo said they have tiramisu. What even IS tiramisu?"

"Italian coffee cake," Ethan says. "With mascarpone cheese and—"

"CHEESE in CAKE? That's disgusting."

"It's actually very good if you understand the flavor profile—"

"Boys," I say firmly. "We're leaving. We'll get ice cream on the way home."

"The good kind?" Madison asks hopefully.

"The very good kind. With rainbow sprinkles if you want them."

Her face lights up. "I want them."

"Then rainbow sprinkles it is."

Scarlett is still staring at Morton. He's still standing beside her. His hand on the back of her chair. Not quite touching her but close.

"I should warn Sophie," Scarlett announces. Louder now. She twists in her chair. "SOPHIE!"

Sophie looks up from her intimate whispering with Thomas. "Yes?"

"Don't marry Thomas!"

The entire room freezes.

Thomas chokes on his wine.

"I wasn't planning to," Sophie says slowly. Her eyes are dancing with amusement.

"GOOD. Because contract marriages are TERRIBLE and they'll ruin your life and—and—your heart will get involved even though it's not supposed to and then everything is AWFUL."

"Noted," Sophie says. "I will avoid all contract marriages with Thomas ."

"With everyone! Not just Thomas! Although especially Thomas because—" She squints at him. "—because you're very beige."

"I thought we established I'm gray."

"Same thing. Colorless. But somehow DANGEROUS. The dangerous beige men are the worst. They sneak up on you."

Thomas looks at Morton. "Is she always like this when she drinks?"

"No," Morton says tiredly. "Usually she drinks wine. Prosecco makes her philosophical."

"And HONEST," Scarlett adds. "Prosecco makes me honest. Which is why I'm HONESTLY telling Sophie not to—"

"Okay!" I'm gathering children now. Madison's hand. Alexander's shoulder. Pushing Ethan toward the door. "We're going! Thank you for celebrating with us! This was lovely! So lovely! Goodbye!"

My mother has coats. She's doing that mom-efficiency thing where she somehow wraps three children in outerwear while also herding them toward the exit.

Gas barks. Once. Like she's agreeing it's time to go.

Hugo stands. "I'll take care of the bill."

"Already done," Sophie says. She hasn't taken her eyes off the Scarlett-Morton drama. "This is my gift to Madison."

"Thank you," I manage. "Really. It was—"

Scarlett stands up. Too fast. The world tilts. Morton catches her elbow.

"The knight died.The kingdom lost its protector." He turns around.

"Hugo didn't mean—"

"He's a doctor giving me medical advice disguised as a fairy tale."

"He's trying to help."

"He's trying to convince me to let our five-year-old children undergo a medical procedure so I can live longer. That's not help. That's—" He stops. His jaw working. "—that's obscene."

"Kyle—"

"No. Don't. Don't tell me it's safe."

The door to the private room opens. Loud voices spill out.

Scarlett's voice: "—and ANOTHER thing about contract marriages—"

Morton's voice: "Scarlett, please—"

Sophie's voice: "This is better than any reality show—"

The door closes again. Muffling them.

Kyle and I stand in the hallway. The sounds of argument fading behind us. The sounds of my family waiting below.

"You should go," he says quietly. "The kids are waiting."

He walks past me. Toward the stairs. Down.

Gone.

I stand there for a moment. In the empty hallway. With the muffled sounds of Scarlett's drunk philosophy and Sophie's delighted commentary.

Then I follow.

The parking lot is cooling down. That particular autumn evening temperature where you need a jacket but haven't admitted it yet.

The children are bouncing around my mother's car. Alexander is making Gas chase him in circles. Ethan is reading a parking sign. Madison is clutching her adoption certificate like it might fly away.

Kyle is nowhere to be seen.

I'm buckling Madison into her seat when footsteps approach.

Hugo.

He's alone. His hands in his pockets. His face carefully neutral.

"May I speak with you?" he asks quietly. "Privately?"