Mia's POVKyle nodded, seemingly unsurprised by my response. "I understand." I looked into his grey eyes. There was a small reflection of me there. Could I really consider him only a father to my boys?He handed me the flowers. After a moment's hesitation, I took it, our fingers brushing in the exchange. The brief contact sent an unwanted jolt of awareness through me."Thank you," I managed.He just nodded.We'd reached the hotel's side entrance, the discreet door I'd slipped out through earlier. Kyle stopped a respectful distance away, making no move to follow me inside."Goodnight, Mia," he said softly. "Take care of yourself. And them.""Goodnight, Kyle."As I entered the hotel and made my way back to the suite, my mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The pendant seemed to burn in my pocket, a tangible reminder of the past. I wanted to end it, but Kyle wasn't going to let that happen. I was a lost sailor, and he had the song of a siren. Was he trying to lea
Mia‘s POVThe Louvre was everything the guidebooks promised and more. I visited once when I was very young. But I don't remember anything now. It's like a brand new visit.I was particularly drawn to the Greek antiquities, something about their weathered permanence speaking to me in ways the more flamboyant Renaissance paintings didn't. The twins seemed to appreciate the art as well, shifting and kicking whenever we stopped for a particularly detailed explanation."They're already developing excellent taste," Scarlett observed when I shared this with her. "Morton will approve."I can't help but stand in front of these collections for a long time. Many of them have passed through thousands of years. How many people had seen them before? People always feel that the sadness they have experienced is hard to let go, but in front of them, it is just a flash in the pan.After the museum, we enjoyed a light lunch at a café overlooking the Seine, watching tourists and locals pass by in the aut
Mia's POVWith a sigh, I closed the box and slid it into my bedside drawer, beneath my journal and the Paris guidebook I'd barely opened. I'd deal with my complicated feelings about the gift—and its giver—later."Mia?" Scarlett called again, her voice closer now. "Are you decent? I'm coming in!"I quickly shut the drawer just as she breezed into the room, a whirlwind of energy and expensive perfume. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, eyes bright."You will not believe what Baptiste arranged for tomorrow," she announced, flopping onto my bed with the casual confidence of someone who's been doing it since childhood sleepovers. "We're getting a private viewing of the Musée d'Orsay before it opens to the public. Just us! Can you imagine? All those Monets and Van Goghs without tourists blocking the view.""How did he manage that?" I asked."Magic? Bribery? Who cares!" She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study me. "How was your afternoon? You look... contemplati
Mia's POVDinner was at a Michelin-starred restaurant overlooking the Eiffel Tower, the kind of place where the menu didn't list prices and the wine list was thicker than most novels. Morton was already seated when we arrived, rising with impeccable manners as we approached."Scarlett. Mia." He nodded to each of us in turn, pulling out my chair first with old-world gallantry. "You both look lovely."Scarlett didn't say anything. That's very unscarlett of her. I felt a little strange.Morton either didn't notice or chose to ignore it, signaling for the sommelier before turning to me. "How was the museum this morning? Scarlett mentioned a private viewing.""It was amazing," I said sincerely."I'm glad to hear it." He nodded. "And your meeting with Leblanc is tomorrow?""Yes, at ten." I said."Bernard Leblanc has a reputation for innovation," Morton agreed.The conversation flowed easily enough through the extravagant meal. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was strained bet
Mia's POVShe led me through a glass door into what appeared to be the main studio space—a vast, open area where architects and designers worked at modernist desks. The energy was palpable, a creative hum underlying the quiet concentration of professionals at work.At the far end of the studio, a man rose from his desk and walked toward me. Bernard Leblanc was in his early sixties, with silver-streaked dark hair and the kind of face that seemed permanently set in thoughtful contemplation. His handshake was firm, his smile genuine."Madame Williams," he greeted me in lightly accented English. "Welcome to Leblanc & Associates. Dr. Pierce has told me much about your work.""Thank you for meeting with me," I replied, pleased that my voice came out steady and professional despite my nerves. "I'm a great admirer of your firm's approach to therapeutic environments.""Please, come to my office where we can speak more comfortably." He gestured toward a glass-walled space at the corner of the s
Mia's POV"Take a deep breath and read it again," Scarlett instructed, perched on the edge of the sofa. "Every word. I want to make sure we're not missing anything."I smoothed the letter from Bernard Leblanc on the coffee table, though it was already perfectly flat. My hands were trembling slightly."It's all here," I said, skimming the elegant letterhead once more. "Six-month initial consultancy, with option for extension or permanent position. Remote work possible for the first six months, then..." I paused, the implications hitting me fully. "Then relocation to Paris would be necessary.""Paris," Scarlett repeated, testing the word. "You. Living in Paris.""It's just a possibility at this point," I reminded her, though my heart raced at the thought. "I haven't even decided if I'm going to accept the consultancy."Scarlett gave me a look that clearly said she wasn't buying my hesitation. "Please. You were practically glowing when you walked through that door. I haven't seen you thi
Mia's POV I pushed myself up from the sofa and headed to my room to change into something comfortable for an afternoon of architecture appreciation. The navy dress I'd worn to the meeting was lovely but not ideal for wandering around Parisian neighborhoods.I opted for a loose, comfortable sweater dress in soft gray with black leggings and supportive flats. A light jacket, my purse with the precious job offer letter, and I was ready.As promised, Henri was waiting by the side entrance, the black Mercedes gleaming in the autumn sunlight."Good afternoon, Madame," he greeted me with his usual formal politeness. "Where would you like to go today?""The 16th arrondissement," I said, settling into the back seat with relief. "I'd like to see some of the residential architecture there.""Ah, beautiful homes," he nodded approvingly. "Any particular address?"I hesitated. "Not exactly. I'm looking for a specific house but only have a general idea of where it might be. Maybe we could drive thr
Mia's POVThe drive back to the hotel passed in a blur.Carol was Nate's wife.The revelation shouldn't have shocked me as much as it did. Nate had mentioned her death, after all. But somehow, I'd never made the connection that she might have been his wife rather than a girlfriend. The depth of his loss suddenly took on new dimensions.And to build an entire home for her, filled with every detail she might have loved...only to lose her before she could ever step foot inside.Could this be true? Did this really happen to Dr. Pierce? To my friend Nate?"Madame? Are you alright?" Henri's concerned voice broke through my thoughts.I blinked, realizing we'd arrived back at the hotel. "Yes, sorry. Just thinking.""You seem troubled," he observed gently. "Was the architecture not what you hoped?""It was beautiful," I said, gathering my purse as he came around to open my door. "Just...sad."Henri helped me from the car with quiet efficiency. "Many beautiful things in Paris have sad stories b
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. Alexande
Mia's POVI sat in the rocking chair, holding Alexander against my chest. He was doing remarkably well as already gaining weight and breathing with minimal assistance. His tiny fingers had wrapped around my pinky with surprising strength, and I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face."Look at you, little fighter," I whispered, gently stroking his cheek with my finger. "So strong already."Nurse Maria approached with Ethan, carefully transferring him from his isolette to my other arm. Though still smaller than his brother, Ethan had made significant progress. The doctors had reduced his ventilator settings yesterday, a positive sign his lungs were developing well."There we go," Maria said softly. "Mama's got both her boys now."It's a magical feeling. Both my sons nestled against me, their synchronized breathing creating a rhythm that seemed to match my heartbeat. Alexander squirmed slightly, his mouth making little movements that the nurses said were early attempts at suc
Mia's POVA 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
Mia's POVI was finally strong enough to be wheeled to the NICU. The actual sight of my sons—not through a screen—overwhelmed me completely. They were impossibly small. Baby A seemed more active, his little fists waving. Baby B was quieter, more still."Can I touch them?" I asked the nurse."Yes, through the ports. But hygiene is crucial."I reached through the isolette opening for Baby A. His skin was warm, softer than anything I'd ever felt. When I touched his palm, his fingers curled around mine."Hi, baby," I whispered. "I'm your mama."The tears came then, pouring out."Careful," the nurse reminded gently. "We can't let any fluids inside the isolette. Premature babies have extremely compromised immune systems."I nodded, wiping my face with my other hand before reaching for Baby B. He was equally tiny, equally perfect."Have you thought about names?" the nurse asked."Not
Mia's POV"Mia?" The voice was far away. Familiar but distorted.I tried to respond, but my throat was sandpaper. Where was I? What happened?"Mia, sweetie. Can you hear me?" Closer now. Mom's voice. But different. Strained.Slowly, I forced my eyes open. The fluorescent lights above were too bright. I blinked rapidly, tears forming as my vision adjusted."Oh, thank God." That was Scarlett. "She's awake."The room came into focus gradually. Hospital room. Machines everywhere. Tubes running from my arms. A catheter. The smell of antiseptic was overwhelming."What..." My voice came out as a rasp. "What happened?""Shhh." Mom's cool hand on my forehead. "Don't try to talk yet.""Kyle," I managed to croak. "Where's Kyle?"Mom and Scarlett exchanged a glance."Mia, honey, you need to stay calm," Mom said."My babies." Panic rose in my chest. "The twins. Where are they?""They're fine," Scarlett said quickly. "Both of them. Healthy and perfect.""How long have I been...""Three days," Mom s
Kyle's POVPain. My eyelids felt like lead weights, but I forced them open anyway.Hospital room. Stark white. The antiseptic smell burned my nostrils. A heart monitor beeped steadily beside my bed, its rhythm matching the throbbing in my chest. I tried to move, but tubes and wires restrained me. My throat was sandpaper dry when I swallowed."Mr. Branson?" A voice. Female. Sharp. "Sir, can you hear me?""Mia," I croaked. God, my voice sounded like gravel. "Where is she? Is she—""Please don't try to sit up, sir." The nurse—young, efficient-looking—pressed her hand gently on my shoulder. "You've had major surgery.""Answer me.""I'll get the doctor immediately."A doctor bustled in. Older man, silver at his temples. Professional mask in place. "Mr. Branson, I'm Dr. Harrison. You've been through extensive surgery. The bullet—""I don't care about the bullet. I want to know what happen to my wife"Dr. Harrison exchanged a look with the nurses. My stomach dropped. No."Your wife..." He pa
Mia's POVPain unlike anything I'd ever known tore through my body, a white-hot blade slicing from my spine to my abdomen. The contractions were relentless now, coming one after another without respite, each one stronger than the last. I could feel myself slipping, the edges of my consciousness growing dim."Her blood pressure is dropping again—80/40," a nurse called out, her voice tight with tension. "Heart rate 135.""She's hemorrhaging," Dr. Levine's voice cut through the haze. "Looks like a partial placental abruption. We need to get these babies out now."A mask was placed over my face, the rush of oxygen cool against my skin. The room swam before my eyes, faces blurring into indistinct shapes as blood loss pulled me closer to unconsciousness."Type and cross for four units of packed cells, two units of fresh frozen plasma, and one unit of platelets," Dr. Levine ordered. "And get me an OR. We're doing an emergency C-section."My body felt foreign to me now—heavy and light simulta
Kyle's POVPain. Unimaginable pain.My consciousness came in waves, each one bringing a fresh torrent of agony. The bullet had torn through me like fire, leaving devastation in its wake. I could hear voices around me, urgent and clinical, but they seemed to be coming from underwater, distorted and distant."BP dropping again!""More blood, now!""We're losing him!"I felt myself slipping. The pain began to recede, replaced by a strange weightlessness that should have alarmed me but instead felt oddly peaceful. Was this what dying felt like?The operating room faded around me. The harsh lights, the metallic clink of instruments, the desperate commands of the surgical team. All of it dissolved into a soft darkness.And then, unexpectedly, light.I was small again. Six years old, terrified, huddled in the corner of a damp warehouse. The ropes had cut into my wrists, leaving them raw and bleeding. I could still feel the ache of hunger, the desperate thirst that had made my tongue stick to
Mia's POV"KYLE!" My scream echoed through the hospital corridor as they wheeled him away, his blood leaving a horrifying trail on the white floor. The medical team moved with terrifying urgency, their faces grim."BP critical at 70/30!" "He's tachycardic, pulse 140!" "Blood loss approximately two liters!" "Move, people! We're losing him!"I lunged forward, desperate to reach him, my hands outstretched toward his motionless form. His face had turned an ashen gray, lips tinged blue, eyelids still. So still. Not like Kyle at all."Ma'am, STOP!" A nurse blocked my path as they rushed Kyle through swinging doors marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. "You can't go in there.""He's dying!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "He took that bullet for me!""If you want him to live, you need to let the surgical team work," she said firmly, gripping my shoulders. "And you—" her eyes dropped to my blood-spattered belly, "—need immedia