Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 214

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 214

Love, Dad

Mia’s POV

The Branson Estate looked exactly the same on the outside. It’s always Imposing, elegant, with manicured grounds that seemed to defy the lingering chilll of early spring. I sat in the car for several minutes, staring at the grand entrance where I’d first arrived as Kyle’s wife nearly four years ago.

“Mrs. Branson?” The driver’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Would you like me to wait?”

“Yes, please,” I replied, gathering my courage. “This shouldn’t take long.”

I turned to check on the twins in their matching car seats. Both were sleeping peacefully after their morning feeding. The doctor had assured me that a short outing would be fine, but I still felt anxious bringing them out so soon after their homecoming.

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” I whispered to them. “Mommy needs to check something.”

With a deep breath, I rang the doorbell. The familiar chime echoed inside, bringing a rush of memories. Kyle loosening his tie as he walked through the door. Late night conversations in the kitchen. Arguments that ended with and icy silences.

The door opened, revealing Mrs. Chen’s surprised face.

“Mrs. Branson!” She gasped, her eyes widening. “You’ve come home!”

Her choice of words stung unexpectedly. This wasn’t home anymore. It hadn’t been for a long

time.

“Hello, Mrs. Chen,” I smiled politely. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, no, of course not. Please, come in.” She stepped aside, peering past me toward the car. “Are the babies with you?”

“Yes, they’re sleeping in the car. I won’t be staying long.” I stepped into the marble foyer, immediately struck by how unchanged everything was. The same artwork on the walls. The same fragrance of Mrs. Chen’s lemon. polish in the air. “I’m actually looking for Kyle.”

Mrs. Chen’s expression shifted subtly. “Mr. Branson isn’t here, Mrs. Branson. He hasn’t been home in some time.”

“Do you know where he is?” I asked, already anticipating the answer.

She shook her head. “He didn’t say.”

I nodded, unsurprised but still disappointed. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“The day after you were both admitted to the hospital,” she replied. “He came home briefly with some security men. They packed a few things, and he left instructions about maintaining the house.”

“Did he say anything else? Leave any messages?” I felt pathetic asking, but I needed to know.

“He asked me to make sure everything was ready for you and the babies, should you ever wish to return.” She

Love, Dod

hesitated. “Would you like to see?”

Curiosity won over pride. “Yes, please.”

Mrs. Chen led me upstairs. My old bedroom looked untouched–the bed made with fresh linens, my favorite lotion still on the nightstand, books arranged neatly on the shelf. It was as if time had stood still here while my entire world had changed.

“Through here,

” Mrs. Chen gestured to a door that had previously been a guest room.

I stepped inside and froze. The room had been transformed into a perfect nursery. Two matching cribs with delicate blue canopies. A rocking chair by the window overlooking the garden. A changing table stocked with supplies. Everything a new mother could need, arranged with painstaking attention to detail.

“When did he do this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“The work began the day after you announced your pregnancy,” Mrs. Chen replied.

I moved through the room, touching the soft fabrics, examining the carefully chosen toys. On a bookshelf, I found a collection of children’s classics–the same ones my mother had read to me as a child. I pulled out “The Velveteen Rabbit” and opened it to find an inscription:

“For Alexander and Ethan. Love, Dad.”

A lump formed in my throat. Kyle had prepared all this, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stay for the children.

“There’s more,” Mrs. Chen said gently, leading me to what had once been Kyle’s home office.

Another beautifully decorated room awaited–this one designed for slightly older boys. Twin beds with rocket ship comforters. Model airplanes hanging from the ceiling. A small desk with two chairs.

“He said they would need separate rooms eventually, when they grew older,” Mrs. Chen explained. “But they might want to stay together at first.”

My chest ached. What did he think he’s doing? Like he’s never coming back

“There are some papers for you downstairs,” Mrs. Chen added. “Mr. Branson said you should have them whenever you came.”

In the study, a large envelope waited or Kyle’s desk. My name was written on it in his precise handwriting. I opened it with trembling fingers.

Inside were property deeds, financial documents, trust fund details–all transferring significant assets to me and the twins. A letter from Kyle’s attomey explained that these arrangements were irrevocable and would ensure our financial security for life.

But there was no personal wote. No explanation. No apology.

“Did he leave anything else?” I asked, my voice smaller than I intended. “A letter, maybe?”

Mrs. Chen shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Branson.”

Love, Dad

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. “Thank you, Mrs. Chen. I should get back to the babies.”

She walked me to the door, her expression sympathetic. “Will you be coming back? To stay?”

I glanced back at the grand staircase, thinking of the beautiful nursery upstairs, prepared with such care for children its creator had chosen not to know.

“No,” I said firmly. “But thank you for keeping everything so nice.”

Back in the car, I checked on the twins, still sleeping peacefully. Alexander’s tiny hand had escaped his blanket, and I gently tucked it back in.

“Where to, Mrs. Branson?” the driver asked.

“Branson Industries, please,” I replied, making a sudden decision.