Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins: Kabanata 391 - Kabanata 400

Mia's POVDr. Tenzin Norbu stood in the doorway like something that had walked out of a children's book.Mysterious travelers appeared at inn doors during snowstorms and turned out to be something more than they seemed.He was shorter than me by several inches. His burgundy robes looked hand-woven, the kind of fabric that had weight and texture, not the smooth synthetic stuff you'd find in costume shops. Prayer beads wrapped around his left wrist, wooden and worn smooth by decades of fingers.But it was his face that held me.His face, not young, but not old in the way hospitals made people old—that gray exhausted look of bodies giving up. His skin had the color and texture of well-loved leather, creased at the corners of his eyes and mouth in ways that suggested he'd spent more time smiling than frowning. White hair cropped close to his skull. And those eyes—dark as river stones but somehow full of light, like they were backlit by something I couldn't see."I am Dr. Tenzin Norbu," he

Mia's POVThe door had barely closed behind Dr. Norbu when it burst open again.Scarlett came through first, moving faster than I'd seen her move since college when she'd sprinted across campus because someone said there were free samples at the new frozen yogurt place. Her red hair flew behind her like a banner, her coat half-on, half-off, one arm still tangled in the sleeve.Behind her came Morton.Morton, who never ran. Morton, who I'd once watched receive news that his company's stock had dropped fifteen points in an hour with nothing more than a slight tightening around his eyes.Morton's eyes were red.Actual red, like he'd been crying, or trying very hard not to cry, or had given up on trying not to cry somewhere between the parking lot and the eighth floor.He didn't stop at the doorway. Didn't pause to assess the situation or check if this was an appropriate time to enter or exchange polite greetings.He went straight to Kyle's bed."Jesus Christ," Morton said, his voice roug

Mia's POVKyle was trying not to laugh. I could tell by the way his shoulders were shaking and the careful blankness of his expression. Morton had given up on trying not to laugh and was actually grinning, one hand over his mouth.Scarlett caught my eye and mouthed: "What just happened?"I shook my head. I had no idea."Now," Alexander continued, apparently not done with his role as peace negotiator, "we need to have a meeting. About Kyle and the doctor and what happens next.""A meeting?" Morton asked."A family meeting. That's what we do at home when there are important decisions to make. Everyone sits in a circle and we talk about our feelings and then we vote.""We're not voting on Kyle's medical treatment," I said quickly."Why not? It's democratic.""Because democracy doesn't apply to healthcare, buddy.""That seems like a flaw in the system."Ethan climbed back onto the bed, settling himself next to Kyle. "Alexander likes to vote on everything. Last week he wanted to vote on wh

Mia's POV"How did you—?"My mother set her plate down. Didn't look at me right away."Hugo told me.""Hugo? What did he—""You called him. Three weeks ago." She picked up her wine glass, set it back down without drinking. "Asked him about autoimmune diseases."My stomach dropped. "I said it was for a friend.""I know what you said.""Mom—""Mia, I've been your mother for twenty-eight years. You think I don't know when you're lying?"The question hung there. Not angry. Just tired."I didn't want to—" I stopped. Started again. "You were finally happy. With Hugo. I didn't want to ruin that."She looked up at me then. Her eyes were soft. "Come here."I didn't move."Mia.""I'm fine here.""You're not fine. Come here."My legs felt wrong. Like they belonged to someone else. But I stood up. Crossed the space between us.She opened her arms and I just—I fell into them.The smell of her. Not perfume. Just Mom. Lavender maybe. Or just warmth. I don't know. My face pressed into her shoulder a

Mia's POV"Mia---"His voice hung in the empty room. Not finishing. Just my name and then nothing.I turned away from the photo. Looked at him instead.He was leaning against the doorframe like standing upright took effort. Which it probably did. His sweater hung loose. I could see the hollow at the base of his throat where the fabric gaped."Why do you have this?" I asked, pointing at the photo without looking at it again."Because I wanted to remember.""Remember what?"He didn't answer right away. His fingers tapped against the doorframe. One. Two. Three. A rhythm I recognized from a thousand mornings watching him drink coffee and read the news."What you looked like when you were happy."The words landed wrong. Or right. I couldn't tell."I was happy lots of times.""Not with me."I wanted to argue. To say that wasn't true. That we'd had good moments. Good days even.But the words stuck.He pushed off the doorframe. Walked to the window. His hand trailed along the wall as he moved