The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 120

Chapter 120 Wide Open

Chapter 120 Wide Open

Mia’s POV

The short walk from the hotel suite to the elevator felt like a small victory.

+25 BONUS

“Settle down, you two,” I whispered, rubbing the spot where one of them, probably Twin B, the more active one according to Dr. Matthews. He was particularly insistent with his kicking. “We’re just going to the spa. Nothing exciting.”

But maybe that wasn’t entirely true. I tugged at the hem of the “spa transition outfit” Scarlett had laid out for me. It’s a flowing maxi dress in soft gray with a light cardigan. Leave it to Scarlett to find maternity wear that didn’t make me feel like a walking

tent.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the opulent lobby of Le Grand Paris. Thomas was already there, leaning against one of the marble columns with casual elegance, checking something on his plone. He wore the same impeccably tailored suit from brunch, but had removed his tie and unbuttoned his collar slightly

Like Scarlett, he inherited the best of both his parents. They looked like the favored children of God.

He looked up as I approached, slipping his phone into his pocket with smooth efficiency. “Very punctual,” he said, checking his watch with approval. “Shall we get started?” He offered his arm with old–world courtesy. “The spa is this way.”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the offered support. The gesture was gentlemanly rather than presumptuous, and truthfully, the extra stability was welcome as we traversed the polished marble floors.

“How was your afternoon meeting?” I asked as we walked, hoping to establish a casual, friendly tone.

“Productive,” he replied, his clipped answer pure Thomas.

The spa occupied the entire ground floor of the hotel’s west wing, an oasis of tranquility separated from the bustling lobby by etched glass doors. As Thomas opened them for me, we stepped into a different world. With soft lighting, the gentle trickle of water features, and the subtle fragrance of essential oils.

The reception area featured pale marble floors. A serene–looking woman greeted us from behind a minimalist desk.

“Ms. Williams,” she said with a warm smile, her French accent subtle but charming. “We’ve been expecting you. Your prenatal massage therapist is ready, and we’ve adjusted the room temperature according to Mr. Morton’s request.”

I shot Thomas a questioning look.

He shrugged. “James mentioned the temperature preferences. Standard protocol.”

Of course Morton would have a protocol for spa temperatures. I shouldn’t have been surprised, yet I found myself still touched by the consideration.

“I’ll leave you in their capable hands,” Thomas said, giving the attendant a polite nod. He turned to me, his expression softening slightly. “Maybe we can meet up afterwards? There’s a little café in the garden.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, keeping my tone light. “I should be done around 3:30.”

“Great.” He nodded. “Enjoy yourself.”

As I followed the spa attendant down a corridor lined with stone sculptures and softly glowing sconces, I found myself considering Thomas more carefully. Had there always been this attentiveness beneath his businesslike exterior? Or was I just noticing it now because Scarlett had planted the idea?

The spa suite was a spacious room with natural stone elements, a custom massage table designed for pregnancy, and floor–to- ceiling windows. The lighting was adjustable, currently set to a warm amber glow that made the space feel intimate and serene.

“Please undress to your comfort level and lie on your left side,” the therapist instructed, her voice gentle, “I’ll return in a few moments. There is water and herbal tea on the side table if you need refreshment.”

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Chapter 120 Wide Open

+25 BONUS

Left alone, I carefully shed my dress and cardigan, keeping on my underwear before settling onto the specially designed table with its array of supportive cushions. The position immediately relieved some of the pressure on my lower back. I sighed. It’s really good.

The next ninety minutes were pure bliss. Emmanuelle, she’d introduced herself–worked with practiced expertise, using techniques specifically designed for pregnancy. Her touch was firm but gentle.

“You’re holding much stress here,” she commented, working her thumbs in small circles between my shoulder blades. “Very common in pregnancy, but also–how do you say–emotional tension, no?”

I made a noncommittal sound. I’m glad she doesn’t know me at all. The good thing about being in a foreign country is that no one here is interested in your shitty gossip. If Emmanuelle knew the real situation about my pregnancy, she would so understand where this emotional tension comes from.

She didn’t press, continuing her methodical work in comfortable silence. At one point, one of the twins kicked forcefully right where she was massaging, making me gasp in surprise.

Emmanuelle laughed softly. “The little one says hello, I think.”

“Or protesting the disruption to his gymnastics routine,” I replied.

“Ah, boys,” she said knowingly. “Always moving, always exploring. You have exciting times ahead, mademoiselle.

When the session finally ended, I felt lighter somehow, despite the unchanging weight of the twins. The constant ache in my lower back eased a lot, and even my perpetually swollen ankles seemed to have temporarily deflated.

After dressing and thanking Emmanuelle profusely, I made my way through the spa’s winding corridors toward the garden café Thomas had mentioned. It was a charming space–a small courtyard with a retractable glass roof currently open to reveal a perfect blue Parisian sky.

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