The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 105

Chapter 105 Deal

Mia’s POV

I rubbed absently at my lower back where one of the twins was pressing uncomfortably.

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I had to talk to Nate about it. The thought came unbidden, surprising ine with its immediacy. Not just because he’d suggested the firm originally, but because… well, because I wanted his opinion. Because something about our last conversation still felt unfinished.

Gas came bounding to the door when I arrived home, his entire body wiggling with excitement as if I’d been gone for days instead of hours. I crouched awkwardly to scratch behind his ears, my center of gravity shifting daily as the twins grew.

“Hey buddy,” I murmured as he pressed his head against my hand “Miss me?”

Mom appeared in the hallway, looking refreshed after her afternoon test.

“How was lunch?” she asked, moving to help me with my coat. “Scarlett still trying to set you up with her brother?”

I laughed. “Now you know too, Mom? Scarlett is really crazy!”

“Please. That girl’s been playing matchmaker since you were both in pigtails.” Mom hung my coat carefully. “Remember when she tried to convince you that the Henderson boy next door was your soulmate?”

“Billy Henderson? Didn’t he eat worms on a dare?”

Mom’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Scarlett’s taste in men has always been questionable.”

“Morton seems decent,” I pointed out, following her into the kitchen where something delicious was simmering on the stove. Gas trotted after us, settling at my feet as I eased into a kitchen chair. His head immediately rested against my ankles. “They want me to go to Paris with them,” I said, watching Mom’s reaction carefully. “Just for two weeks. Apparently Morton’s brother is being transferred there.”

Mom’s stirring paused for just a moment before resuming. “Paris? That’s quite a trip in your condition.”

“I’d be careful,” I assured her. “And Dr. Matthews said flying is still safe until my third trimester.”

“You’ve already talked to her?” Mom turned, eyebrows raised.

“Not about this specifically, but she mentioned it at my last appointment.” I fidgeted with a napkin on the table. “There’s an architecture firm there that Nate suggested. They specialize in therapeutic spaces–hospitals, treatment centers, that kind of thing.”

“The one he mentioned before?”

I nodded, slightly surprised she remembered. “Leblanc & Associates. They’re doing amazing work. And it would be good to make some international connections, even if I don’t take a position with them.”

Mom was quiet for a moment, thoughtful as she added something to the pot. “You’re considering working in Paris?”

“Maybe, Mum. Not now, of course. I was thinking about later. Not permanently.” The idea of leaving everything. Mom, my friends, the life I was carefully rebuilding. I felt it is impossible. “But maybe collaborating on projects. Consulting.”

“Hmm.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel, then sat across from me at the table. “It’s not a bad idea. Som everything here might be useful.”

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“That’s what I was thinking,” I admitted. “And realistically, travel will only get harder from here. If I’m going to explore opportunities, now’s probably the time.”

Mom nodded slowly. “When would you go?”

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Chapter 105 Dea!

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“Three weeks from now? Scarlett’s already planning everything.” couldn’t help smiling. “You know how she gets,”

“I do indeed.” Mom reached across to squeeze my hand. “I think is a good idea, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much this year. Some time away, some new perspectives—it could be exactly what you need.”

Relief washed through me. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted her approval until I had it.

“What about you, though?” I asked. “You’re still recovering. I dont want to leave you alone.”

“I’m hardly an invalid,” she scoffed, though her fond expression softened the words. “Besides, I have my gardening group on Tuesdays, physical therapy twice a week, and enough legal work to keep three paralegals busy.” Her smile turned slightly wicked. “Your father’s business troubles are proving quite… consuming. And it’s only two weeks.”

“Mom,” I couldn’t help laughing despite my attempt at seriousness. “You promised to stay within legal boundaries.”

“And I have,” she assured me with exaggerated innocence. “Completely legal.”

I shook my head. “So you’ll be okay if I go?” I asked again.

“More than okay,” she assured me. “Though I expect daily updates and at least three gift shop souvenirs.”

“Deal.”

Gas whined softly, reminding us of his presence. I reached down to scratch behind his ears. “What do you think, buddy? Want to be Mom’s guard dog for a couple weeks?”

His tail thumped against the floor, which I chose to interpret as enthusiastic agreement.

“That’s settled then,” Mom stood, returning to her cooking. “Though you’ll need to find someone to check on him during the day. He’s used to having you around.”

My thoughts immediately went to Nate. Gas adored him and his dogs. But after our last conversation, with its awkward revelations about Carol… I wasn’t sure where we stood. We hadn’t spoken since that day in the car.

“I’ll figure something out,” I said noncommittally.

Later that evening, after dinner and a long soak in the tub (the only thing that seemed to help my perpetually aching back these days), I settled into bed with my tablet. Gas curled at my feet, his soft snores a comforting soundtrack as I reviewed some design specifications for the children’s center.

But my focus kept drifting. Paris. The idea was taking shape, becoming more real with each passing hour. I opened a new browser tab and typed “Leblanc & Associates architecture” into the search bar.

Their website was sleek and minimalist, showcasing their projects through stunning photography. I scrolled through images of their Lyon children’s hospital–all curved lines and natural light, with gardens integrated throughout the structure. The facility was beautiful, but more importantly, it was designed with healing in mind. Every aspect served the patients‘ well–being.

This was exactly the kind of work I wanted to do. The kind of spaces I wanted to create.

I switched to my email, starting to compose a message to their HR department, then paused. Nate had said he had a personal connection there. It would be silly not to use that introduction if I was really going to Paris.

I needed to talk to him. But texting felt inadequate after our last conversation, and calling at this hour seemed inappropriate. Tomorrow, I decided. I’d reach out tomorrow.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Scarlett:

*Already found THREE perfect maternity outfits for Paris! Sending pics now!*

Three photos followed in quick succession: a flowing maxi dress in deep emerald, a chic blazer and pants combo that somehow looked both comfortable and elegant, and a simple black dress that would work for meetings or dinner.

I typed back: *They’re beautiful. But how exactly did you find maternity clothes at this hour?*

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Chapter 109 Geor

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