Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 367

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 367

I forgive you, Kyle

Mia’s POV

Kyle’s words settled into the spaces between my ribs, each syllable finding a home in places I’d tried so hard to empty and lock away. This update is available on fındnovel.net

I cried while smiling, the tears warm against my cheeks, tasting of salt and something that might have been relief. “I forgive you, Kyle.”

The words came from somewhere deeper, from the place where seventeen–year–old Mia still lived, the girl who had loved him with the devastating completeness that only comes once in a lifetime.

“You know how much I once liked you,” I said, the word ‘liked‘ so inadequate it almost made me

laugh. Like was what you felt for chocolate ice cream or sunny afternoons.

“I never envied Taylor,” I continued, my voice growing stronger as the truth flowed out of me like water from a broken dam. “But you know, I only ever envied her for being your girlfriend.”

Kyle’s looked at me. His eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made the hospital room disappear around us. For a moment, we were seventeen again, and I was watching him walk through the halls with her, his attention completely absorbed by her bright laugh and perfect smile while I remained

invisible in my corner of the art room.

“I even spent years doing work unrelated to architecture, becoming your secretary, just for you.”

“Mia,” he whispered, but I wasn’t finished.

“No one will ever make me do that again,” I said, and there was steel beneath the softness in my voice. “I spent so much time loving you, so much time trying to please you, so much time hating you The words came faster now, years of suppressed truth pouring out like a confession. “And I spent so much time learning not to love you.”

Kyle was quiet for a long moment, his breathing shallow and careful.

“I know,” he said simply. “I deserved all of it. ”

I studied his face in the soft hospital light, noting how the illness had sharpened his features.

I still remember how he looked when I fell in love with him. And we’ve both grown old.

“The funny thing is,” I said, wiping my cheeks with my free hand, “I was never very good at hating you.”

A smile ghosted across Kyle’s lips. “You should be better at it.”

The afternoon light shifted outside the window, casting new shadows across the room. Somewhere

Chapter 367 I forgive you, Kyle

in the distance, I could hear the soft chatter of nurses changing shifts. But here, in this small room, time felt suspended.

Kyle’s attention drifted to my throat, and I saw his eyes widen slightly as they fixed on something there. I glanced down and realized what he was seeing–the pendant I’d put on that morning without really thinking about it. The small silver moon with two tiny stars nestled against my collarbone, catching the light like captured starfire.

“You kept it,” he breathed, his voice full of wonder.

My hand moved instinctively to touch the necklace, my fingers tracing the familiar shapes. “I tried to throw it away so many times.” I admitted.

“Do you remember,” he asked, his voice so soft I had to lean closer to hear him, “what you promised me that day?”

I was six years old again, sitting in that dark, cold space with my hand clasped in his, both of us too young to understand the full scope of the danger we were in. But we had understood fear, and loneliness, and the way another person’s touch could make the darkness feel less absolute.

“I promised to design you a happy house,” I whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Kyle said, his thumb still moving across my knuckles in that gentle, hypnotic rhythm. “Tell me about the happy house you’d build.”

I closed my eyes.

“It would have big windows,” I said, my eyes still closed, speaking from memory and imagination both. “Floor–to–ceiling windows on the south side, so the morning light would fill every room. The kitchen would be huge, with an island where children could sit and do homework while dinner cooked. There’d be built–in bookshelves in every room, because happy houses need stories.”

I opened my eyes and found Kyle watching me with an expression of such tenderness it made my chest tight.

“The children’s rooms would have secret passages,” I continued, “hidden doors that led to reading nooks and art spaces. And there’d be a studio for me, with north–facing windows and storage for supplies, where I could work while listening to the sound of family moving through the house.”

“What about me?” Kyle asked quietly. “Where would I fit in this happy house?”

The question hung between us, loaded with everything we’d lost and everything we might still have. I looked at him—really looked–taking in the sharp angles of his illness, the way the hospital gown dwarfed his diminished frame, the careful way he held himself as if sudden movements might cause everything to shatter.

Chapter 367 I forgive you, Kyle

“You’d have an office with a view of the garden,” I said finally. “Somewhere quiet where you could work, but with glass walls so you’d never be completely separated from the rest of us. And at night, when the work was done, there’d be a place beside me in bed where you belonged.”

Kyle’s breath caught, and I saw him close his eyes as if the image was too much to bear.

“Mia,” he said. His grip on my hand tightened, and when he opened his eyes, they burned with something that looked like fever. “And I’ll build it in heaven. Maybe someday, long from now, come there. Maybe someday, our children will be there too.”

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