The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 190

Mia's POV

The brisk winter air felt refreshing against my face as Thomas and I strolled through Madison Square Park. Gas trotted happily ahead of us, his white fur bright against the dormant winter grass. I placed a hand on my lower back, trying to ease the persistent ache that had become my constant companion in these final weeks of pregnancy.

"Are you comfortable?" Thomas asked, his eyes filled with concern. "We can head back if you're getting tired."

"I'm fine," I assured him, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "This was a good idea. I needed to get out of that apartment."

Thomas had shown up at my door unexpectedly, bearing Mediterranean food and a gentle insistence that fresh air would do me good. After days cooped up with nothing but my troubled thoughts for company, I'd finally relented. My mother was out at another of her mysterious "appointments," and the walls had been closing in on me.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," Thomas said, matching his pace to my ungainly waddle. "You seemed... overwhelmed."

I sighed. "That's putting it mildly."

"You do seem to attract a certain level of drama."

"Not by choice," I protested.

The twins shifted restlessly inside me, Twin B delivering a particularly enthusiastic kick that made me pause mid-step.

"Everything okay?" Thomas asked immediately.

"Yes, just the twins playing soccer with my internal organs." I placed my hand over the spot where my stomach visibly moved. "They're running out of room in there."

Thomas watched with undisguised fascination as my sweater shifted with the movement beneath. "That's incredible."

He stared at my belly for a long time. I don't know why, but I felt bashful.

"There's a bench just ahead," Thomas pointed. "Should we rest for a bit?"

I nodded.

We settled on the bench, Gas contentedly sprawling at our feet. The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the bare trees, creating long shadows across the park. Despite the winter chill, there were still quite a few people out—other dog walkers, joggers in colorful winter gear, couples strolling hand in hand.

I studied Thomas surreptitiously as he gazed out at the park. He was undeniably handsome—tall and fit, with strong features that were both classically attractive and approachable. His dark blonde hair caught the sunlight, and his profile was worthy of a magazine cover. By any objective measure, he was the perfect catch—successful, kind, attentive.

I shouldn't be looking at my friend like this. I shouldn't be having these strange thoughts.

"Everything good?" Thomas asked, breaking into my reverie.

I smiled, embarrassed at being caught staring. "Just thinking how nice this is. Simple. Uncomplicated."

His eyes softened. "It could always be like this, you know."

Before I could respond to the implications of that statement, a woman approached with a friendly golden retriever. Gas immediately perked up, tail wagging as he greeted his fellow canine with enthusiasm.

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