**Mia's POV**"Hey, woman!" Scarlett's voice cut through my thoughts. Her perfectly manicured fingers snapped in front of my face. "You've been staring at that coffee cup for ten minutes. Spill."I blinked, focusing on my best friend's concerned face across the café table. Scarlett looked exactly as she always did – fiery red hair styled in elegant waves, designer clothes, and an expression that said she'd brook no nonsense."I'm fine," I said automatically, the words feeling hollow even to my own ears."Right." Scarlett leaned back, crossing her arms. "And I'm the Queen of England. Come on, what's going on? You look like y
**Mia's POV**Empty rooms.I wandered the halls of Kyle's mansion—our mansion, technically, though it had never truly felt like mine.Three days. Three days since Taylor's triumphant display at the store. Three days since Kyle had last been home. Three days of silence that proved every bitter word Taylor had spoken.I convinced myself not to care. I. Don't. Care."Mrs. Branson?" Mrs. Chen's voice carried a note of concern I was growing tired of hearing. "Your breakfast is getting cold."I turned from the window, forcing a smile. "I'm not very hungry.""You need to eat." She moved closer, her usually composed face creased with worry. "You've barely touched anything these past few days.""I know." The words came out softer than intended. "I just... can't."Mrs. Chen hesitated, then said quietly, "Mr. Branson called. He wanted to know if you're taking your medication."Whoa. The perfect husband, checking on his unstable wife. "Did he mention where he's been?" The question slipped out be
**Mia's POV**"Mia Williams?" Dr. Nate Pierce's voice held a note of pleased recognition that made me pause. His ocean-blue eyes studied my face with unexpected warmth, as if seeing an old friend rather than a patient's family member."Actually, it's Branson now," I corrected automatically, though the name felt heavy on my tongue. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"He smiled, and something about it transformed his already handsome face into something almost boyish. "Not personally, no. But I know your work. Your paintings, specifically - they're extraordinary."I blinked, caught off guard. Paintings? I hadn't touched a brush in years, not since... "There must be some mistake," I said carefully. "I haven't painted in a very long time.""The series you did for your final exhibition at university," he continued, pulling up a chair to join Dr. Matthews and me. "Particularly that piece with the old Victorian house at twilight - the way you captured the light through the broken windows,
**Kyle's POV**The medical report lay on my desk like a ticking bomb, its crisp pages rustling softly in the air-conditioned silence of my office. Taylor sat across from me, her usual confident posture replaced by something more fragile, more vulnerable. The late afternoon sun caught in her perfectly styled hair, creating a halo effect that reminded me of countless childhood memories."I didn't want to tell you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the report. "I thought I could handle it on my own, like I always have."I leaned forward, studying the medical terminology that jumped out from the pages. Cardiomyopathy. Stress-induced complications. Risk of acute cardiac event. The clinical language painted a stark picture of a condition that had apparently shadowed Taylor for the past twenty years."Why now?" I asked, my voice rougher than intended. "After all this time, why tell me now?"Taylor's lower lip quivered – a tiny gesture
**Mia's POV** The soft glow of my laptop screen illuminated the study as I immersed myself in the children's center project details Nate had sent. Five acres of possibility spread across my screen. Nature had already gifted us with mature oak trees standing like ancient guardians around the perimeter, their sprawling canopies offering the perfect foundation for what these children would need most: a sense of shelter without confinement, protection without isolation. The site's southern exposure was perfect, which means we could capture natural light throughout the day, letting sunshine become a healing element in itself. The existing topography practically begged for terraced healing gardens, creating intimate spaces that would feel both private and connected to the larger landscape. My pencil moved across the sketchpad as I explored possibilities for the central courtyard. The notification appeared in the corner of my screen with a soft chime. I almost ignored it, but the familiar
**Mia's POV**Time seemed to slow in that dimly lit kitchen as Kyle's weight pressed against me, the sharp scent of scotch mingling with his familiar cologne. His head rested heavy on my shoulder, dark hair tickling my neck as his breathing steadied."Kyle," I said softly, trying to shift his weight. "We need to get you upstairs."He stirred, lifting his head to look at me with unfocused eyes. In the soft glow of the kitchen lights, his usual sharp features had softened, making him look younger, almost vulnerable."Your eyes," he murmured, reaching up to trace my cheekbone with unsteady fingers. "So green. Like emeralds in sunlight." A crooked smile crossed his face. "Always loved your eyes."My heart clenched painfully. "Stop it." I caught his hand, pulling it away from my face. "You're drunk.""Mmm, maybe." He chuckled, the sound so unlike his usual controlled demeanor that it made my chest ache. "But I still know pretty eyes when I see them.""Kyle, please—""Stay." His fingers cur
**Mia's POV**The morning sun had barely risen when I settled at my desk, spreading out the preliminary sketches for the children's center. Steam rose from my coffee cup, curling in the early light as I reviewed my notes from yesterday.My phone rang, Scarlett's name flashing across the screen."That bastard actually agreed to the divorce?" Scarlett's voice was surprisingly calm, though I could hear the underlying tension."After my mother's surgery is complete," I said, reaching for my coffee. "He didn't even argue. Just said he'd have the papers drawn up.""Just like that? No conditions? No threats about the contract?""Nothing." I moved a sketch aside, focusing on the garden layout. "He just... agreed.""Well, that's... unexpected." A pause, then I heard rustling papers on her end. "Listen, I'm looking at my schedule. I can get you in to see Marcus - you remember my lawyer friend? - this afternoon.""Scarlett—""No, hear me out. He specializes in high-profile divorces. Knows exactl
**Mia's POV**The elevator doors opened to reveal a corridor that looked nothing like the sterile hospital hallways below. Rich mahogany paneling lined the walls, and original artwork hung in carefully curated groupings. My heels sank into plush carpeting as I made my way to Nate's office, my portfolio clutched like a shield against my chest.I paused before the heavy double doors, taking a steadying breath. Through the frosted glass, I could see movement - a tall figure pacing, gesturing as he spoke on the phone.Before I could knock, the door swung open. Nate stood there, phone still pressed to his ear, but his face lit up when he saw me. He gestured me in, mouthing "Just a moment" as he wrapped up his call."No, tell them Thursday won't work," he said, his voice carrying that easy authority I was beginning to recognize. "The equipment needs to be calibrated by someone who actually knows what they're doing, not just the lowest bidder." He paused, listening. "Exactly. Have Dr. Chen h
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