The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 429

Mia's POV

The tears won't stop.

They just keep coming. Try to blur everything. The kitchen tiles. The counter. Kyle's face.

All of it runs together like watercolors left in the rain.

My chest hurts. Maybe it broke a long time ago and I'm only now feeling it.

"You don't know what it feels like," I say again.

Kyle takes a step toward me.

I step back. My hip hits the counter.

"Mia—"

"You weren't there for their first words. First steps. First anything. "

My voice is getting louder. I can hear it. But I can't control it.

Kyle is closer now. When did he get closer?

He's maybe three feet away. His hands are at his sides. Not reaching. Not grabbing. Just there.

"You're right," he says quietly.

"What?"

"You're right. I missed everything."

The tears are still coming. I can feel them on my jaw now. Dripping off my chin.

So why? How did it end up like this?

Kyle‘s hands find my face. Both of them. Cupping my cheeks. His palms warm against my skin. His thumbs moving. Trying to catch tears that won't stop falling.

"Hey," he says softly. So softly. "Hey."

His face is close. Close enough that I can see everything. The shadows under his eyes. The hollows in his cheeks. The way his skin looks almost translucent in the afternoon light coming through the window.

His thumbs keep moving. Keep trying to wipe away tears that keep replacing themselves.

"I know I fucked up. I know."

The light shifts. The sun moving behind clouds. The kitchen goes dimmer. Then brighter again as the clouds pass.

The light catches Kyle's face. Hits it at an angle. Makes his skin look almost golden. Makes his eyes look lighter. Gray-blue instead of just gray.

It makes everything look softer. Less real. Like we're in a photograph. Like this moment is something that's already passed. Already memory instead of present.

"Hey," he says again. His voice still soft. Still careful. "I remember you said you forgave me."

The way he says it. Like this is funny. Like any of this is funny.

"I can take it back," I say. "I can un-forgive you. That's allowed."

Kyle's mouth does something. Not quite a smile. But close.

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't sound very forgiving."

"I don't care."

"Okay."

His thumbs keep moving. Keep catching tears. But it's useless. The tears aren't stopping. They just keep coming. Like there's an endless supply. Like my body decided to empty itself of every tear I didn't cry for the past five years.

My eyes are going to be so swollen tomorrow. Puffy and red and horrible.

I try to turn my face away. To hide. But Kyle's hands hold me there. Gentle but firm. Not letting me retreat.

"Stop looking at me," I say. My voice sounds thick. Waterlogged.

"No."

"Kyle—"

"No," he says again. Firmer this time. "I've spent five years not looking at you. I'm done with that."

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