Mia's POV"Where to, Mrs. Branson?" the driver asked."Branson Industries, please," I replied, making a sudden decision.The gleaming skyscraper of Branson Industries dominated the Manhattan skyline. I'd spent three years of my life working here before becoming Mrs. Branson."Mrs. Branson! What a lovely surprise," Linda, Kyle's longtime executive assistant, exclaimed when I stepped off the elevator at the executive floor. Her eyes immediately went to the twin car seats. "And the babies! Oh, they're beautiful.""Thank you, Linda," I smiled politely. "Who is in charge of the entire company now?"“Mr. Morton will help make some decisions. I think Mr. Branson and he have come to some kind of agreement. Mr. Morton is here today.” Linda said."Then I was hoping to speak with Morton, if he's available." I said."Let me check right away." She bustled off, returning moments later. "He can see you now. Let me help you with one of those carriers."Morton rose when we entered, his perpetually ser
Mia's POVThe Branson Estate looked exactly the same on the outside. It's always imposing, elegant, with manicured grounds that seemed to defy the lingering chill of early spring. I sat in the car for several minutes, staring at the grand entrance where I'd first arrived as Kyle's wife nearly four years ago."Mrs. Branson?" The driver's voice broke through my thoughts. "Would you like me to wait?""Yes, please," I replied, gathering my courage. "This shouldn't take long."I turned to check on the twins in their matching car seats. Both were sleeping peacefully after their morning feeding. The doctor had assured me that a short outing would be fine, but I still felt anxious bringing them out so soon after their homecoming."We'll just be a few minutes," I whispered to them. "Mommy needs to check something."With a deep breath, I rang the doorbell. The familiar chime echoed inside, bringing a rush of memories. Kyle loosening his tie as he walked through the door. Late night conversation
Mia's POV"Do you still love him?"Thomas's question hung in the air between us. I stared at him, caught completely off guard.Do I still love Kyle?A month ago, I would have answered without hesitation. No. Of course not. That chapter of my life was closed.But now.The memories flooded back without warning. Kyle bursting through that door, gun raised. The look in his eyes when he saw me bound and terrified. The way he'd placed himself between me and danger without a second thought. The feeling of his blood, warm and sticky, spreading beneath my hands as I begged him not to die.I looked down at the twins, peacefully sleeping in their matching bassinets. Alexander's tiny fist curled beside his cheek. Ethan's mouth making those dreamy sucking motions. Both of them carrying pieces of Kyle in their features."I'm sorry," Thomas said softly, noticing my silence. "That was unfair of me to ask.""No, it's okay," I replied, tucking Ethan's blanket more securely around his tiny body. "I just
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