The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 407

Mia's POV

"Mama!" His face lit up. "You came!"

Alexander saw me first.

The hospital's meditation room smelled like sandalwood. I stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, not quite committed to entering.

And there, arranged in a loose circle on yoga mats, were my children.

He started to jump up but Dr. Norbu's hand—gentle but firm—touched his shoulder.

"Finish the pose first, small warrior," the doctor said. "Then greet your mother properly."

Alexander's face scrunched with effort. He was attempting what looked like tree pose. One foot pressed against the inside of his opposite knee. Arms stretched overhead. Wobbling.

Ethan was beside him in the same pose. Not wobbling. Perfectly still.

Madison was on his other side. Her tree pose was less certain than Ethan's but more stable than Alexander's.

And Kyle.

He was in downward dog.

His hands were flat on the mat, fingers spread wide. His hips were lifted, forming an inverted V with his body. His heels reached toward the floor but didn't quite touch.

The hospital-issue yoga pants hung on his frame. I saw his back stiffen.

Just slightly.

He'd heard me. Knew I was there.

He didn't turn around.

"Mrs. Williams," Dr. Norbu said. Not looking at me. His attention was on the children. "You are just in time for the closing sequence."

He was sitting cross-legged at the front of the circle. Burgundy robes pooled around him. Prayer beads wrapped around one wrist. His white hair caught the morning light.

"Mama's here!" Alexander announced unnecessarily, finally abandoning tree pose to bounce on his toes.

"Alexander," Ethan said without moving from his perfect stillness. "We're not done yet."

"But Mama—"

"After," Madison said softly. Her tree pose had started to wobble.

Dr. Norbu smiled. "The small ones are learning discipline. This is good. Very good." He patted the empty space beside him. "Mrs. Williams, please join us. Unless you prefer to watch?"

I looked at the mat. At the empty space.

My body ached. Not from exercise. From sitting hunched over blueprints for three days straight. From sleeping maybe four hours total this week. From stress compressing my spine into something that felt like it might snap.

"I don't do yoga," I said.

"Neither do I," Kyle said.

His voice came from the corner where he was still holding downward dog. Still not looking at me.

"And yet here you are, Mr. Branson," Dr. Norbu observed cheerfully. "Doing yoga quite nicely."

I nearly laughed out.

Alexander giggled.

"Mama's doing yoga!" Alexander's joy was disproportionate to the event.

"I'm just sitting," I corrected.

"Sitting is the beginning of all yoga," Dr. Norbu said. "First we learn to sit. Then we learn to breathe. Then we learn to move. You are already one-third of the way there."

Gas appeared from somewhere behind Kyle. The dog had been lying so still I hadn't noticed her.

Who let the dog out?

She padded across the room toward me. Her tail wagged in that slow, lazy way that said she was content.

When she reached me, she circled once, then lay down. Her head rested on my knee.

"Gas does yoga too," Madison said. "She knows downward dog."

"She's a dog," Ethan pointed out. "That's just how she stretches."

"It still counts," Madison insisted.

Gas lifted her head and yawned. Her pink tongue curled. Then she lowered herself into what was unmistakably a downward dog stretch.

Front legs extended. Chest lowered. Hips up. Back legs straight.

She held it for three seconds, then relaxed back down.

"See?" Madison said triumphantly.

"Okay," Ethan conceded. "Gas knows downward dog."

I found myself smiling despite everything.