Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 461

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 461

The cold hits immediately. November in New York. The kind of cold that makes your nose run and your fingers ache.

I should have grabbed a jacket.

Kyle steps out behind me. He’s wearing a sweater. Cashmere probably.

“MAMA!” Alexander waves from the far side of the yard. He’s standing on top of a pile of leaves that reaches his knees. “LOOK HOW BIG IT IS!”

Ethan is still adding to it. Methodical. Carrying armfuls from under the oak tree. His systematic approach to leaf-pile construction.

Madison is sitting at the base of the tree. She’s arranged leaves in a circle around herself. Some kind of pattern. Colors alternating.

“Come down here!” Alexander shouts. “Come see!”

I walk down the deck steps. My socks immediately soak through. The grass is wet and cold.

Kyle follows. His shoes making soft sounds on the wood. Then on the grass.

“It’s freezing,” I say. To no one in particular.

“Yes.”

“We should have brought jackets.”

“Probably.”

“The children are going to catch cold.”

“They’re fine.”

I look over at him. He’s watching the children. His face softer than it was inside.

“MAMA!” Alexander is jumping up and down on the leaf pile. Each jump sends

leaves flying. “IT’S SO SOFT! IT’S LIKE A BED!”

“Don’t break your ankle!” I call back.

“I won’t!”

He jumps higher.

“Alexander-”

“WATCH THIS!”

He jumps. Lands hard. His feet disappear into the leaves. He sinks down to his knees. Then sits. Then lies back completely.

“MAMA IT’S AMAZING!”

Ethan has stopped carrying leaves. He’s standing at the edge of the pile.

Calculating. I can see it in his face. Measuring the height. The density. The structural integrity of a leaf pile.

“It won’t hold your weight if you jump from the deck,” he says to Alexander.

“I’m not jumping from the deck.”

“Good. Because the terminal velocity combined with your mass would—”

“ETHAN. I’m not jumping from the deck.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I KNOW what you’re saying.”

Madison has stood up. She’s walking toward the pile carefully. Her leaf circle abandoned.

“Can I try?” she asks. Quiet. Hesitant.

“YES!” Alexander sits up. Leaves in his hair. “Come on! It’s so fun!”

She climbs onto the pile slowly. Testing each step. Making sure it will hold her before committing her weight.

Alexander grabs her hand. Pulls her down.

She squeals.

They’re both lying in the leaves now. Looking up at the sky. At the bare branches above them.

“It smells good,” Madison says.

“It smells like dirt,” Alexander counters.

“Good dirt.”

“There’s no such thing as good dirt. Dirt is just dirt.”

“No it’s not. Some dirt smells better than other dirt.”

“That’s weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“You’re weirder.”

I’m smiling. I can’t help it. Watching them. Listening to their nonsense.

Kyle is smiling too. I can see it from the corner of my eye.

“You should get in,” he says.

“What?”

“The leaf pile. You should get in.”

“I’m not getting in a leaf pile.”

“MAMA!” Alexander has heard us. “Come in! Come play!”

“I’m fine here, baby.”

“But it’s SO GOOD! You have to try it!”

“Maybe later.”

“NOW! Come NOW!”

“Alexander-”

“Please?” Madison adds her voice. Softer but somehow more effective. “Please, Mama?”

I look at Kyle. “You did this.”

“I suggested it. They’re executing it.”

“I’m not getting in a leaf pile.”

“Your loss.”

He walks toward the pile. His long legs covering the distance quickly.

The children see him coming. Alexander sits up. His face lights up.

“Daddy! Come in! Come play with us!”

Kyle doesn’t hesitate. Just walks up to the edge and sits down. Right on the leaves.

His expensive pants probably getting wet and dirty and ruined.

The children immediately attack him. Alexander climbs onto his back. Madison grabs his arm. Even Ethan comes closer.

“Pile on!” Alexander shouts.

They do. All three of them. Climbing over Kyle like he’s a piece of playground equipment.

He doesn’t push them off. Doesn’t tell them to be careful. Just lets them crawl all

over him. His laugh is real. Deep. The kind I haven’t heard in years.

“MAMA!” Alexander shouts again. “WE GOT KYLE! NOW WE NEED YOU!”

“I’m good here!”

“NO! We need EVERYONE!”

“I’ll stay here and supervise!”

“That’s boring!”

“Someone has to be boring!”

Kyle has managed to sit up despite three children hanging off him. He looks at me

across the yard. That challenge in his eyes again.

“She’s afraid,” he tells the children. Loud enough for me to hear.

“I’m not afraid.”

“She’s definitely afraid.”

“Kyle=”

“Afraid of leaves. Tragic, really.”

“I’m not afraid of leaves.”

“Then prove it.” His eyes lock with mine. “Come over here.”

“No.”

“Chicken,” Alexander sing-songs.

“I’m not a chicken.”

“Bawk bawk bawk!” Alexander flaps his arms.

“Alexander-”

“Mama’s a chicken!” He’s laughing now. “A big chicken!”

“I’m not ”

“Bawk bawk BAWK!”

Ethan has joined in. Even Madison is giggling.

I walk toward them. Slowly. My socks squelching with each step.

“This is ridiculous,” I say.

“Completely ridiculous,” Kyle agrees. But he’s smiling.

I reach the edge of the pile. Look down at the four of them. At the leaves scattered

everywhere. At the mess they’ve made.

“Happy now?” I ask.

“Not yet,” Kyle says.

“What do you—”

His hand shoots out. Grabs my wrist. Pulls.

I don’t have time to brace. Don’t have time to resist.

I’m falling forward. Into the leaves. Into the pile.

Into Kyle.

His other arm comes around my waist. Catching me. Keeping me from face-planting

into the leaves.

But now I’m in his lap. His arm around my waist. His face too close to mine.

“Hi,” he says.

“Let go.”

“In a minute.”

“Kyle=”

“GET HER!” Alexander shouts.

Before I can process what’s happening, all three children are

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wing leaves at me Hannet

them. Hitting my head, my shoulders, my back.

“Hey!” I try to stand but Kyle’s arm tightens around my waist.

“Stay,” he murmurs. Just for me.

“This isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

More leaves hit me. In my hair. Down the back of my shirt.

“Kids!” I try to sound stern. “Stop throwing—”

A handful of leaves hits my face.

I sputter. Spit out a piece of leaf.

Kyle is laughing. Really laughing. His chest shaking against my back.

“You think this is funny?” I twist in his grip. Grab a handful of leaves. Shove them in

his face.

His laugh cuts off. He sputters too.

The children scream with delight.

“MAMA FIGHT BACK!” Alexander yells.

I do. I grab more leaves. Throw them at Kyle. At the children. At anyone in range.

Kyle releases my waist. Not to let me go. To fight back

He grabs a massive handful of leaves. Dumps them over my head.

I shriek. Actually shriek. Like I’m one of the children.

“That’s it!” I grab more leaves. Bigger handfuls. Throw them at his face.

He grabs my wrists. We struggle. Both of us laughing now. Both of us covered in

leaves.

The children are throwing leaves at

both of us. At each other. At the dog who has appeared from somewhere and is barking excitedly. .net>

It’s chaos. Complete chaos.

Kyle manages to pin both my wrists with one hand. Uses his free hand to grab more

leaves.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn.

“Dare what?”

He dumps them down the front of my shirt.

I scream. The leaves are cold and wet and scratchy.

“KYLE!”

He’s laughing too hard to respond.

I wrench one hand free. Shove leaves in his face. In his hair. Down his collar.

He lets go of my other wrist. Both hands going to his collar to stop the leaves.

I take advantage. Push him backward. He falls into the leaves. I follow. My hands on

his chest. Pinning him.

“Apologize,” I demand.

“Never.”

“Kyle=”

“You started it. With the face leaves.”

“You pulled me into the pile!”

“You needed pulling.”

“I needed ”

A leaf hits the back of my head. I look up.

All three children are standing there. Armed with leaves. Grinning.

“Get them both!” Alexander commands.

They attack. All three of them. Burying us in leaves.

Kyle sits up fast. Wraps his arms around me. Uses his body as a shield.

“Cover your face,” he says into my ear.

I do. Press my face against his

chest. His sweater is soft. Smells

like him Cedar and something else. Something that makes my stomach do that thing it used to do in high school.

The leaf assault continues. I can hear the children laughing. Feel the leaves hitting

Kyle’s back. His shoulders.

He doesn’t let go. Just holds me. One arm around my back. One hand cradling the

back of my head.

We stay like that for longer than necessary.

His heart is beating under my ear. Fast. Steady.

“Mia,” he says to me.