The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 493

Mia's POV

Kyle found a spot in the far corner. The very far corner. Where the Escalade could sprawl across two spaces without blocking anyone.

"This is humiliating," he said.

"This is consequences."

He cut the engine.

"Ready?" Kyle asked.

I looked at him. At the athletic jacket and the messy hair and the way the morning light caught the silver at his temples. He looked nervous. Actually nervous. Kyle Branson, who had negotiated billion-dollar deals without blinking, was nervous about taking his children to an amusement park.

"Ready," I said.

The gates were enormous.

Alexander was vibrating.

There's no other word for it. His entire body had become a tuning fork struck by pure excitement, humming at a frequency that threatened to shatter nearby glass. He was bouncing on his toes, his hand gripping Kyle's jacket, his voice a continuous stream of observation and demand.

"Roller coaster,, Daddy, do you SEE it—"

"I see it."

"Can we go on it? Can we go on it RIGHT NOW? Is that the first thing? Please say it's the first thing—"

"We need tickets first," Ethan said. Patient. Long-suffering.

Madison was quiet beside me. Her hand had found mine somewhere between the parking lot and here, her fingers cool and slightly damp. She was looking at everything.

"Hey." I squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

She nodded. Didn't speak. Her pink elephant was tucked under her other arm, its worn fur catching the sunlight.

The ticket line moved faster than I expected. Kyle had done something, because we were being ushered toward a separate entrances.

"Welcome to Wonderland," the attendant said, scanning our wristbands with a smile that had been trained to exact specifications. "Have a magical day."

Alexander was already running.

The thing about amusement parks is that they exist outside of time.

The designers understand something fundamental about human psychology: we come here to escape.

Neverland. That's what this place was. A kingdom built for children who never have to grow up.

I watched Alexander sprint toward a map display, his sneakers slapping against the painted concrete. Watched Ethan follow at a more measured pace. Watched Madison's eyes grow wide as she took in the castle spires.

I wasn't a child anymore. I knew that. But still, there was something—a flutter, a whisper—that moved through my chest.

It said that the princesses were actual royalty. That the roller coasters could carry you to the moon if you screamed loud enough.

Of course, when you were responsible for three actual small people full of actual wonder, you didn't have much time to dwell on nostalgia.

"MAMA! This way! THIS WAY!"

They took off. Just—took off. Three small humans with three small sets of legs, somehow covering ground faster than I could in my adult-sized body.

How did they do that? How did such little people move so quickly? Their legs were half the length of mine.

"Alexander!" Kyle's voice cut through the noise. "Stop!"

Alexander had been about to dart across a pathway, directly into the path of a family pushing a double stroller. Kyle's hand caught the back of his jacket, lifting him slightly off the ground, the fabric bunching under his armpits.

"Ow! Daddy!"

"You almost crashed into those people."

"I was LOOKING—"

"You weren't looking. You were running. Those are different activities." Kyle set him down but didn't release his grip. "New rule. You hold someone's hand until we get to the first ride. Non-negotiable."

Alexander pointed at it triumphantly. "I TOLD you! I TOLD you there was a dragon!"

"You said you might be making it up," Ethan reminded him.

"I was being HUMBLE. Humility is a VIRTUE. Miss Rodriguez said so."

"Can we go on NOW?" Alexander's patience had reached its limit. "The horses are RIGHT THERE. They're WAITING for us!"

I took a breath. Let the moment pass.

"Yes," I said. "Let's go."

Madison chose the rabbit.

I don't know why that detail mattered. But it did. Watching her study all the options—the fierce lion, the elegant horses, the ridiculous peacock—and then point at the rabbit with its oversized ears and painted pink nose.

"That one," she said. "Please."

Kyle lifted her onto it. Carefully. Like she was made of something breakable. His hands lingered at her waist until he was sure she was secure, until he had checked the safety strap twice, three times.

"Good?"

She nodded. Her fingers wrapped around the brass pole. Her elephant wedged between her body and the rabbit's painted back.

Alexander was already on the dragon, naturally. Ethan had chosen a sensible-looking horse in midnight blue. I watched Kyle help each of them, watched him check and double-check, watched his face shift through expressions I couldn't name.

And then he was looking at me.

"Aren't you getting on?"

I shook my head. "I'll watch from here."

"Mia—"

"Someone should take pictures." I held up my phone. "Go on. The kids want you with them."