The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 464

Mia's POV

"And for the grown-ups?" The waitress looks at me.

"Just a water."

"You're not eating?" Kyle asks.

"I'm not hungry."

He orders for himself. Then changes his mind. Adds a second order of chicken. "In case someone changes their mind about being hungry."

The waitress writes it down. Walks away. Her sneakers squeak slightly on the linoleum floor. That sound old shoes make when the rubber sole is wearing thin.

The children are coloring on the paper menus with the crayons the restaurant provides. The crayons are broken. Stubby. The red one is just a nub. Alexander uses it anyway. Drawing what he claims is our new house but looks more like a rectangle with windows.

"Does the house have a name?" Madison asks.

"A name?" I look at her. "Houses don't have names, sweetheart."

"Some houses do. Big houses. Like on TV."

"This isn't that kind of house."

"But we could give it a name anyway." She's very serious about this. "We could call it something. Something special."

"Like what?"

She thinks for a moment. Her crayon hovering over the paper. "Happy House."

Alexander makes a gagging sound. "That's a terrible name."

"It's not terrible—"

"It is! It sounds like a place for babies!"

"Boys." I use my quiet voice. My serious voice. "Be nice."

Alexander sighs dramatically. Returns to his drawing.

Madison's bottom lip is trembling slightly.

Kyle's hand comes up. Gentle. Touches her hair.

"I think Happy House is a good name," he says quietly.

She looks up at him. "Really?"

"Really. Houses should be happy. Especially our house."

She smiles.

The food arrives faster than expected. The waitress carries three plates on one arm. Another server brings the rest. Young guy. Maybe twenty. Tattoo sleeve on his left arm. Dragons and flowers and geometric patterns all running together.

Plates and baskets cover the table. Steam rising. The smell intense and overwhelming. That specific Tony's smell—grease and cayenne and something sweet from the honey they put in the coating.

Alexander attacks his food immediately. Tearing into a chicken tender before it's fully cooled. He makes a sound of pain. Burns his tongue. His eyes water.

"Careful," I say automatically. "Let it cool."

He nods. Mouth still full. Continues eating anyway.

Ethan eats methodically. One fry at a time. Dipping each one in ketchup.

Kyle slides the extra chicken basket toward me.

"I'm not hungry," I say again.

"One piece. That's all I'm asking."

I take a piece.

It's good. Really good. The coating is crispy the way it's supposed to be. Not soggy. Not burnt. Just right. The chicken inside is juicy. Hot. The seasoning is perfect—that Tony's blend that's probably just paprika and cayenne and garlic powder but tastes like someone's grandmother's secret recipe.

I eat the whole piece.

Kyle doesn't say anything. Just smiles slightly and goes back to his own food.

The children demolish their meals. Alexander eats six chicken tenders. Ethan finishes his fries and most of his coleslaw. Madison eats four nuggets and half her fries. Which is actually good. A full meal by her standards.

They're covered in grease. Their fingers shiny. Their faces smudged. Alexander has honey mustard on his chin. Madison has ketchup on her cheek. Even Ethan has a spot of coleslaw dressing on his collar.

"Napkins," I say. Push the dispenser toward them.

Alexander grabs a napkin. Wipes his hands. Misses his face completely.

I reach over. Take a napkin. Lean across the table. Wipe his chin myself.

"Mama," he complains. But he holds still. Lets me clean his face.

The waitress comes back. Starts clearing plates.

"Anyone want dessert?" she asks. "We got pie. Apple. Pecan. Chocolate cream."

"YES!" Alexander's hand shoots up like he's in school.

"Alexander, you just ate a ton of chicken—"

"But there's a dessert stomach! That's different! The dessert stomach is separate!"

Kyle's mouth twitches. "I think there might be some scientific basis for—"

"Kyle. Don't encourage him."

"I'm just saying that the human digestive system is complex—"

"KYLE."

He grins. Actually grins. "What? I'm being educational."

The children are watching this back and forth like it's a tennis match. Their heads moving from me to Kyle and back.

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