The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 210

Mia's POV

A week had passed since the twins were born, and my body was slowly healing. Today had been a good day. I'd spent the morning in the NICU with Alexander and Ethan. Both boys were showing improvement—Alexander had been taken off the ventilator yesterday, now breathing with just a little oxygen support. Ethan was still on the ventilator, but the doctors said his lungs were getting stronger every day. I'd been able to hold Alexander for the first time, his tiny body nestled against my chest during our first skin-to-skin contact. The feelings that washed over me were indescribable.

Kyle's absence lingered. He hadn't called. I'd tried reaching him twice more, but each time I only got his private nurse, who assured me he was "resting" or "in physical therapy."

"It's okay," I said, more to myself than to my mother. "He's recovering too."

I was so lost in these thoughts that I almost didn't hear the knock at my door.

"Come in," I called, expecting Mom or Scarlett with the afternoon coffee they'd promised.

"Knock knock," a nurse called cheerfully, pushing the door open. "Ready for some visitors?"

My heart leapt as two small isolettes were wheeled into the room, followed by a NICU nurse I recognized as Maria.

"Good morning, Mrs. Branson," Maria smiled. "The little gentlemen have been quite active today. I think they knew they were coming to see their mama."

The nurse helped position the babies near my bed, adjusting the tubes and monitors with practiced ease. Alexander—always the more active of the two—was squirming slightly, his tiny fists waving in the air. Ethan lay more quietly, but his eyes were open, dark blue and alert.

"They're gorgeous," Scarlett breathed, leaning over to get a better look. "Absolutely perfect."

"Would you like to try kangaroo care today?" Maria asked. "Dr. Matthews approved it for both babies, ten minutes each."

Kangaroo care—skin-to-skin contact—was crucial for premature babies. We'd tried it once before with Alexander, but today would be the first time with both boys.

"Yes, please," I said eagerly.

Maria helped me open my hospital gown, then carefully lifted Alexander from his isolette. The feeling of his tiny body against my chest, warm and impossibly fragile, sent tears to my eyes. His weight was barely noticeable, yet it anchored me to the present with surprising strength.

"That's right," Maria encouraged as Alexander settled against me. "He knows his mama."

After ten precious minutes, Maria gently transferred Alexander back to his isolette and brought Ethan to me.

Where Alexander had been active, Ethan remained still against my skin, his breathing synchronizing with mine in a way that felt almost magical. I pressed the softest kiss to his downy head, inhaling his sweet scent.

"He looks like Kyle," I whispered, studying Ethan's features. The shape of his eyes, the set of his tiny jaw—I could see echoes of his father even at this early stage.

All too soon, Maria indicated it was time for the babies to return to the NICU. I kissed each of my sons goodbye, promising I'd see them again in the afternoon.

Mom had just left to get coffee when a soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

I looked up, expecting Dr. Harrison or perhaps Scarlett.

Instead, Nate Pierce stood in the doorway.

My breath caught. The last time I'd seen him was in Charles Porter's penthouse.

"May I come in?" Nate asked, his voice tentative.

I nodded, smoothing the blanket over my legs, suddenly conscious of my hospital gown and unwashed hair.

Nate stepped inside, burdened with bags and packages. He set them carefully on the visitor's chair, then stood awkwardly at the foot of my bed, hands shoved into his pockets.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words.

"You look better," he finally said. "I mean... considering everything."

"I feel better," I replied. "Stronger each day."

He nodded, eyes darting around the room, landing anywhere but on me. "I've been wanting to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if—"

"It's okay," I interrupted. "I understand."

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