The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 212

212 /422

Mia's POV

"One last check of the discharge papers, Mrs. Branson, and you'll be all set to go home," Dr. Matthews said, her practiced smile not quite hiding the concern in her eyes. "Remember, the twins still need frequent monitoring. The home health nurse will visit daily for the first week, then we'll reassess."

I nodded, scanning the stack of papers before me—medical instructions, follow-up appointments, warning signs to watch for, emergency contacts. So many details to remember, so many things that could go wrong.

"Are you sure they're ready?" I asked for what must have been the fifth time that morning. Though Alexander and Ethan had made remarkable progress in the six weeks since their birth, they still seemed so small, so fragile.

"They've met all our criteria for discharge—consistent weight gain, stable temperature, successful feeding, no apnea episodes for over a week. They're ready, Mia. And so are you."

I glanced over at my sons, nestled in their identical car seats. Alexander was awake, his dark eyes curiously taking in his surroundings. Ethan dozed peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that I still found myself counting obsessively. Both boys had nearly doubled their birth weights, though they remained smaller than full-term newborns.

"And all the equipment is set up at home?" I confirmed, though I knew my mother had supervised every detail of the preparations.

"Everything's ready," Dr. Matthews assured me. "The oxygen concentrator, the monitors, the specialized formula—it's all been delivered and set up. The pediatric nurse conducted the home inspection yesterday and gave final approval."

I signed the last form with a shaky hand. This was it. After weeks of hospital rooms and antiseptic smells, of beeping monitors and hourly check-ins, we were finally going home.

Home. We were going to my mother's newly renovated townhouse in Greenwich Village, a place Kyle had never set foot in.

Six weeks since he'd disappeared without a word. Six weeks of my calls going unanswered, my messages unreturned. Six weeks of watching our sons grow stronger each day while their father remained conspicuously absent.

My anger, which had ebbed and flowed like a tide during my hospital stay, surged anew. How dare he miss this milestone? How could he possibly justify not being here as his sons prepared to leave the hospital for the first time?

"Mrs. Branson?" Dr. Matthews' voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask before I sign the final discharge?"

I forced a smile. "No, I think we've covered everything."

"Very well." She made a final notation in the chart. "Then Alexander and Ethan Branson are officially discharged from New York Presbyterian's NICU." She extended her hand. "It's been an honor caring for your family, Mia. These boys are true fighters."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, "for everything."

After Dr. Matthews left, I turned to the twins, adjusting their tiny hats and making sure their blankets were secure.

"We're going home, little loves," I whispered, running a gentle finger along each tiny cheek.

My mother burst through the door, practically vibrating with excitement. "The car service just arrived," she announced. "And Thomas is here to help with all the bags."

Thomas Wallace appeared behind her, as impeccably dressed as always in a charcoal suit that made his blond hair appear even brighter. Scarlett and Morton have a business meeting today, and I insisted that they should not delay their plans because of me.

"Ready for the big day?" he asked, his smile warm and genuine.

"As ready as we'll ever be," I replied, attempting to match his optimism.

Thomas moved to the car seats, crouching to peek at the twins. "Hello there, gentlemen," he said in the soothing voice he always used with them. "Big day today, huh?"