Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 426

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 426

They smell like everything innocent and good in the world.

Alexander smells like apple juice—the kind that comes in those little boxes with the bendy straws. There’s a faint stickiness to his neck where he didn’t wipe his mouth properly. Graham crackers, too. I can smell the sweet, wheaty scent clinging to his shirt. And underneath it all, that particular smell of child-sweat that somehow manages to be sweet instead of sour. Like sun-warmed grass and playgrounds and pure, unfiltered energy.

“Hey, buddy,” I manage to say.

Alexander doesn’t notice. His arms squeeze tighter around my neck.

“You’re really here!”

“Alex, breathe,” Mia says from across the room. “He needs to breathe too.”

“Oh.” Alexander loosens his grip slightly. “Sorry, Daddy. Sometimes I forget about breathing. Mama says I talk so fast the words trip over themselves.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, and I mean it. He could talk for the next ten hours straight and I’d listen to every word. “I like hearing you talk.”

Ethan approaches slowly. “Hi, Dad.”

Just those two words.

“Hi, Ethan.” I just extend my free arm-the one not still wrapped around Alexander toward him. He takes one step. Then another. Then he’s close enough that I can pull him in.

He comes.

I stand up slowly. Alexander immediately tries to climb me like a tree.

“Daddy, you’re SO TALL today. How did you get so tall? I wanna be tall like you. Can I be tall like you? Mama says I’m gonna be tall because you’re tall and tallness is in the jeans—no wait, not the pants kind, the other kind—”

“Genes,” Ethan corrects.

“That’s what I said! Jeans!”

“No, you said—”

“Boys,” Mia’s voice cuts through gently. “Maybe let your dad breathe for a second?”

Alexander is now hanging off my left arm. Ethan is holding my right hand. I’m effectively immobilized by small humans and I don’t mind even a little bit.

“Are you gonna dance with us?” Alexander asks, bouncing on his toes in excitement. “We were doing the spinny dance! It’s the BEST dance! You spin and spin and spin until everything is blurry and then you fall down and laugh!”

“That does sound like a great dance,” I say.

“Mama taught us! Mama knows ALL the dances. She knows salsa and merengue and-and-what’s the other one, Mama? The one with the hips?”

“Bachata,” Mia supplies. Her voice is strained.

“Yeah! That one! She’s really good! You should see her! Oh wait-you DID see her! Just now! When she was spinning! Wasn’t she amazing?”

“She was,” I say, looking directly at Mia. “She is.”

Mia looks away. Her hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear even though it doesn’t need tucking. It’s a nervous gesture. I remember it.

Alexander is already pulling on my arm. “Come on! Dance with us! The music is still playing!”

He’s right. The salsa has transitioned into something slower. Something with more piano, less brass. Something meant for couples, not children.

“Can Daddy dance with us, Mama?” Alexander asks, turning toward her but keeping his death grip on my hand. “Please? Please please please?”

Mia opens her mouth. Closes it. “I don’t-” she starts.

“Please?Just one dance?”

Mia looks at them. Then at me. Then back at them.

I stay silent. This has to be her choice.

“Okay,” she finally says. “One dance.”

“YES!” Alexander pumps his fist in the air. “Did you hear that, Daddy? One dance! That’s more than zero dances! That’s actually INFINITE more than zero because zero is nothing and one is something and-”

“Alex,” Mia says. “Breathe.”

“Right. Breathing. Sorry.”

But he’s still bouncing. Still radiating pure joy. Ethan is smiling too—a small, careful smile, but a real one.

Alexander starts pulling me toward the center of the living room. Toward Mia.

I let him pull me for a few steps. Then I gently extract my hand from his grip. “Hang on, buddy.”

“But-”

“I need to ask properly.”

“You already asked!”

“Not like I should have.”

I walk toward Mia slowly. Deliberately. Giving her every opportunity to stop me. To

shake her head. To tell me this is a mistake.

She doesn’t.

She just watches me approach with

those guarded eyes. Her shoulders

are tense, Her hands are clasped in

front of her that defensive posture f

know so well.

I stop a few feet away. Close enough to speak quietly. Far enough that I’m not

invading her space.

Then I extend my right hand toward her.

Palm up. Fingers slightly curved. The universal gesture of invitation.

My left hand goes behind my back Old-fashioned Formal The kind of thing my father taught me When

was sixteen and nervous about my first real date.

“Would you dance with me?”

My voice comes out softer than I intended. Almost rough. Like the words are

scraping their way up my throat.

She stares at my outstretched hand like it’s a snake that might bite.

“Kyle…”

“Just one dance,” I say. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Her eyes lift to mine.

She bites her bottom lip. That gesture. That unconscious tell that she’s thinking.

Deciding. Weighing options.

“Mama,” Ethan says from behind me. His voice is serious. “It’s okay.”

I don’t turn around. I keep my eyes on Mia.

“Just one dance,” he continues. “Then if you don’t like it, you can stop.” ɴᴇᴡ t

“Very logical, mi amor,” Mia says softly. But she’s not looking at Ethan. She’s looking at me.

“I’m always logical,” Ethan responds. “Someone has to be.”

Madison giggles. Alexander bounces on his toes, barely containing his excitement.

Mia takes a deep breath. I watch her

chest rise and fall beneath that blue dress. Watch her shoulders lift and drop. Watch her steel herself for something that shouldn’t require courage but does.

Then she lifts her hand.

Slowly. So slowly I think she might change her mind halfway through the motion.

But she doesn’t.

Her hand rises through the space between us. Her fingers extend. They’re

trembling slightly.

And then-

Her hand settles into mine.

Her palm touches my palm. Her fingers curl around my fingers. Her skin is warm

and soft and I can feel her pulse beating in her wrist.

“One dance,” she says.

“One dance,” I agree.