The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 266

Chapter 266 The Unusual Scarlett

Mia’s POV

We didn’t linger on the topic of Madison for too long.

The children were smarter than I had imagined, and I didn’t want to give them the wrong impression or hint at anything that might worry them further.

The conversation moved on to lighter topics after that. The boys finished most of their enormous steaks, declared themselves “too full for dessert but maybe just a little ice cream,” and charmed our waiter with their impeccable manners and enthusiastic thank–yous.

By the time we got home, they were practically falling asleep in the car.

“Best dinner ever, Mama,” Alexander mumbled as I helped him into his pajamas.

“The happy cow was delicious,” Ethan added.

I kissed both their foreheads and settled into the chair between their beds for a few minutes, watching them drift off to sleep.

My phone buzzed with a text. Scarlett.

“Drinks tomorrow night? I need to talk to someone sane. Please say yes. I’m buying.”

I frowned at the message. Then I typed back: “Of course. Everything okay?”

Her response came immediately: “Define okay. See you at Meridian at 8?”

“I’ll be there.”

**

The next evening, I dropped the boys off at my mother’s house for a sleepover. They were thrilled at the prospect of staying up late and eating ice cream for breakfast, and my mother was more than happy to spoil them rotten.

Meridian was one of Scarlett’s favorite bars.

Since having children, I rarely drank anywhere except at home with a glass of wine after the boys went to bed. I had some irrational worries.

There’s no trouble they can’t get into–only trouble I haven’t thought of yet.

Scarlett had arrived before me and claimed a corner booth.

Compared to her usual self, today’s Scarlett seemed unusually quiet.

She was sitting perfectly still, staring down at a half–empty glass of what looked like whiskey.

“Hey,” I said, sliding into the booth across from her. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was insane.”

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Chapter 266

Scarlett looked up and attempted a smile. “No problem. I got started without you.”

I signaled the bartender and ordered a glass of white wine. Nothing too strong.

“Okay,” I said once my drink arrived. “What’s going on? You look like someone stole your favorite designer bag.”

“Worse,” Scarlett said, taking another sip of her whiskey.

I waited for her to elaborate, but she just continued staring into her glass.

“Scar,” I said gently, “you’re starting to worry me. What happened?”

She finished her drink and immediately signaled for another one.

I felt a bit puzzled as I watched her drink glass after glass. This wasn’t like Scarlett.

When she silently drank her fourth glass, then her fifth, I started to get really worried.

When she reached for her sixth glass, I couldn’t help but say, “Stop! What’s going on? You really scared me, Scar!”

Scarlett looked up, and I could see that her eyes were red–rimmed and glassy. This vulnerable, fragile side of Scarlett had rarely shown itself before.

I quickly moved around to her side of the booth and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.

11

“Oh no,” she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Bathroom,” I said immediately, helping her up. “Come on.”

I rushed to help her to the bathroom, supporting most of her weight as we stumbled across the bar. Several people looked up curiously, but I didn’t care about the stares. My friend needed help.

We barely made it to the ladies‘ room before Scarlett started vomiting violently into the first available stall. I held her hair back and rubbed her shoulders, making soothing noises while she emptied her stomach.

By the time she was done, I felt like she was about to faint. Her skin was clammy and pale, and she was swaying on her feet.

you

walk?”

“Okay, we’re getting you home,” I said, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Can

“I think so,” she mumbled, but when she tried to take a step, her knees buckled.

Scarlett was taller than me and significantly more solid, especially in her heeled boots. I struggled to hold her up, making sure neither of us fell as we made our way slowly toward the bathroom door.

“Just lean on me,” I said, adjusting my grip around her waist. “We’ll take it slow.”

As we emerged from the bathroom, I was concentrating so hard on keeping Scarlett upright that I didn’t notice the person approaching until I bumped directly into them.

“Sorry,” I started to say, then looked up.

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Damn it.

Morton stood in front of us.

I haven’t seen him for two years, but he hasn’t changed much.

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