The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110 Catherine’s Request

Chapter 110 Catherine’s Request

Mia’s POV

“Catherine,” I managed, suddenly self–conscious about my casual attire and still–damp hair. “This is unexpected.”

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“I should have called first,” she acknowledged, setting her handbag on the entry table. “But I was in the neighborhood for an early meeting, and I thought…” She hesitated. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Mom said smoothly, always the gracious hostess. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

I knew my mother has a complicated attitude towards Catherine. She had heard all the things I have told her about Catherine. She knew that Catherine is kind to me. But mom also can be uncontrollably angry about everything to do with Kyle.

“Tea would be lovely,” Catherine smiled, moving further into the apartment.

Her gaze swept over our modest living room -so different from the palatial spaces she was used to. If she found it lacking, she gave no indication.

“Sarah, your home is charming,” she said, settling onto our couch. “So warm and inviting.”

“Thank you,” Mom replied, moving toward the kitchen. “I’ll get that tea.”

Gas had relaxed his guard somewhat, maybe recognizing Catherine. He allowed her to scratch his ears briefly before returning to his position at my feet.

“He’s quite protective,” Catherine observed. “Good dog.”

“The best,” I agreed, lowering myself carefully into the armchair opposite her. “Catherine, not that it isn’t lovely to see you, but…”

“Why am I here?” she finished for me, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” she continued, her eyes dropping to my stomach again. “The news reports have been… concerning.”

“That’s one word for it,” I said dryly.

“Are they still camped outside?” she asked, glancing toward the window.

“Just one persistent tabloid photographer these days. I think everyone else got bored when I refused to have a public meltdown.”

She laughed softly. “The Branson name does tend to attract attention, doesn’t it? Though I imagine your sister’s legal troubles have provided fresher meat for the vultures.”

“Stepsister,” I corrected automatically. “And yes, Taylor’s case has been quite the spectacle.”

Thanks to the internet, dramatic news about me can now be known in any corner of the earth. My half–sister tried to kill me and got pregnant with my ex–husband’s child after divorcing him. I can’t imagine how many people will think I’m crazy or something. Anyway, I’m glad to have brought some gossip and conversation starters to the people of the world.

Mom returned with a tea tray, setting it on the coffee table between us. “I’m afraid we don’t have your usual Earl Grey, Catherine. Will chamomile do?”

“Perfectly,” Catherine accepted the delicate cup. “Thank you, Sarah.”

An awkward silence settled over us as Mom excused herself, mentioning something about watering plants. I suspected she wanted to give us privacy, but I found myself wishing she’d stayed. Catherine’s unexpected arrival had thrown me off balance.

“I heard you have a doctor’s appointment today,” Catherine said, breaking the silence.

I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know that?”

She had the grace to look slightly abashed. “Kyle mentioned it.”

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Of course he did. Despite our divorce, Kyle somehow kept tabs on my schedule. I’d stopped asking how whether it was through his lawyers, private investigators, or simply his network of connections. Kyle Branson had ways of knowing things he wanted to

know.

“Yes,” I confirmed, seeing no point in denial. “Just a routine check up.”

“Six–month anatomy scan,” Catherine said knowingly. “Hardly routine. They’ll check everything–heart, lungs, brain development. With twins, it’s particularly important.”

I stared at her, surprised by her familiarity with prenatal care.

“I read all the pregnancy books when I was expecting Kyle,” she explained, noticing my expression. “Fascinating process, creating new life.”

“It is,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. “Though they seem determined to use my bladder as a trampoline.”

Catherine laughed a genuine, warm sound. “Kyle was the same way. Especially at night. I used to joke that he was nocturnal.” The parallel to what Mom had said about me stopped me short. Like mother, like son, like children? The thought that my babies might inherit Kyle’s traits–not just physically, but behaviorally—had kept me awake on more than one occasion.

“Mia,” Catherine set down her teacup, her expression turning serious. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but… are you going alone today?”

The question caught me off guard. “Mom has a meeting but I’ll be fine. I’m used to it.”

Something flickered across Catherine’s face–concern, perhaps, or something deeper. “You shouldn’t have to be ‘used to it,“” she said quietly.

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Would you…” she hesitated, then straightened her shoulders with familiar Branson resolve. “Would you allow me to accompany you? To your appointment?”

For a moment, I simply blinked at her, certain I’d misheard. “You want to go with me? To my prenatal check–up?” “Only if you’re comfortable with it,” she added quickly. “I understand if you’d prefer to

I studied her face, looking for hidden motives. But all I saw was genuine concern- Longing?

–

go alone.”

-and perhaps a hint of something else.

Of course. These were her grandchildren, her first grandchildren. Despite everything that had happened between Kyle and me, these babies represented the continuation of her family line.

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