Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 259

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 259

: Don’t Ever Leave Me

Mia’s POV

Thomas’s handsome face was right in front of me, those warm brown eyes searching mine with an intensity. I could see the dark circles under his eyes.

The words that had been burning on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed them back down.

“Thomas,” I said finally, keeping my voice steady, “I need you to understand something.”

He leaned forward slightly, giving me his full attention. “Anything.”

“I don’t like any woman getting too close to my boyfriend.”

The words came out more possessive than I’d intended, but they were honest. I watched Thomas’s face carefully, waiting for his reaction.

His expression changed instantly. The tension in his shoulders melted away, and something that looked like relief washed over his features.

“That’s it?” he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” I protested.

Before I could say anything else, Thomas was out of his chair and around the table. He pulled me up into his arms, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered into my hair, his voice rough with emotion. “Don’t ever leave me because of anyone or anything.”

I felt myself melting into his embrace despite all my reservations.

“I like it when you get angry with me,” he continued, pulling back to look at my face. “I like it when you give me orders.”

“Thomas-”

“I was so scared,” he interrupted, his hands cupping my face. “I was terrified. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

His thumbs brushed across my cheekbones.

“You’re not losing me,” I said softly.

“I am,” he said immediately,

Jake coughed politely from behind the counter.

“Maybe we should sit back down,” I suggested.

Thomas laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Let them look. I don’t care who sees me holding my girlfriend.”

But he guided me back to my chair anyway, though he kept my hand firmly clasped in his.

“So,” he said, settling back into his seat, “are we okay?

“We’re okay. But I meant what I said about boundaries.”

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“Understood.” Thomas brought my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Victoria won’t be a problem anymore. I promise.”

“Good.” I took another sip of my latte. “Because I really don’t want to have to fight another woman over a man. I’m too old for that kind of drama.”

Thomas grinned. “You’re thirty, not ninety.”

“Some days I feel ninety,” I muttered.

“That’s what happens when you have twin four–year–olds,” he pointed out. “They age you in dog years.”

We both laughed at that, and for the first time in days, things felt normal between us again.

“Can I ask you something?” Thomas said after a moment.

“Sure.”

“Can I stay over tonight?”

“Depends on what you’re planning to cook for dinner.” I said, pretending to consider it.

“Whatever you want,” he said immediately. “I’ll stop at the store on the way over. What are the boys in the mood for?”

“Probably mac and cheese,” I admitted. “They’ve been living on comfort food since the preschool drama started.

“Mac and cheese it is. The fancy kind with the breadcrumb topping?”

“You spoil them.”

“I spoil all of you,” Thomas corrected.

I couldn’t argue with that.

The boys‘ faces when they saw Thomas walk through the door were worth every moment of doubt I’d had over the past few days.

“Uncle Thomas!” Alexander launched himself at Thomas’s legs with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for Christmas morning.

“You came back!” Ethan added, joining his brother in what quickly became a group hug that made Thomas

stumble backward.

“Of course I came back,” Thomas said, ruffling both their heads. “Did you really think I’d miss hearing about your soccer practice?”

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“We scored three goals!” Alexander announced proudly.

“Total,” Ethan clarified. “Between both of us.”

“That’s still impressive,” Thomas assured them. “Tell me everything.”

As the boys launched into an animated retelling of their soccer adventures, complete with dramatic reenactments of their best kicks, I watched Thomas’s face.

This man loved my children. Really, truly loved them. Not because he had to.

“Mama said you’re making dinner!” Ethan said after they’d finished recounting every detail of their soccer triumph.

“I am indeed,” Thomas confirmed, holding up the grocery bags he’d carried in. “Hope you’re hungry for the best mac and cheese in the city.”

“Can we help?” Alexander asked eagerly.

“I was counting on it,” Thomas replied seriously. “I need two expert cheese graters. Think you’re up for the job?

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They nodded so vigorously I was worried they might give themselves whiplash.

“Alright then, let’s get cooking.”

Watching Thomas cook with the boys was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance. He somehow managed to keep them engaged and helpful without letting them near anything dangerous, all while preparing what actually looked like a gourmet meal.

He’d brought real cheese to grate instead of the pre–shredded stuff, fresh breadcrumbs for the topping, and even some bacon to make it extra special. The boys stood on step stools beside him, carefully grating cheese while Thomas narrated each step like he was hosting a cooking show.

“Now, the secret to perfect mac and cheese,” he said solemnly, “is the cheese blend. We’re using sharp cheddar for flavor, gruyere for creaminess, and just a touch of parmesan for that extra something special.”

“What’s gruyere?” Ethan asked, pronouncing it “groo–year.”

“It’s a fancy cheese from Switzerland,” Thomas explained. “Swiss people know a lot about cheese.”

“Are there cheese experts?” Alexander wanted to know.

“Absolutely. People who spend their whole lives learning about different cheeses. They’re called fromagers.”

“From–a–what?” Alexander giggled.

“Fromagers. It’s French. In France, cheese is very serious business.”

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching this domestic scene play out and feeling my heart swell with contentment. This was what I wanted. This easy, comfortable family dynamic where everyone felt valued and included.

My phone buzzed with a text, interrupting my reverie. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from Camille.

“Reminder: Maxwell meeting tomorrow at 2 PM. Should I confirm?”

I’d been so caught up in the Victoria drama that I’d almost forgotten about my work obligations. I typed back quickly: “Yes, please confirm. Also, can you research appropriate gifts for a client? Something tasteful but not too expensive.”