Chapter 112 He doesn’t deserve you.
Mia’s POV
“I thought Kyle told you,” I said, suddenly uncertain. “About what happened that day,”
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“He told me you fell,” Catherine said carefully, her voice tight with controlled emotion. “That there were complications, and you lost the babies.”
“That’s what he believed,” 1 clarified, not wanting to paint Kyle as deliberately deceptive. “Taylor convinced him I attacked her, that I fell during the altercation. But she pushed me, Catherine. Deliberately.”
The look that crossed Catherine’s face then was unlike anything I seen from her before, her elegant features turned into something almost frightening.
Before I could respond, the door opened, and Dr. Matthews swept in with her usual brisk energy. She paused briefly, noticing the charged atmosphere..
“Everything alright in here?” she asked, glancing between us.
“Fine,” I managed, trying to arrange my features into something resembling normal. “Dr. Matthews, this is Catherine Branson.
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“Mrs. Branson,” Dr. Matthews nodded, professional but warm. “Pleasure to meet you. Are you joining us for the ultrasound today?”
“If Mia doesn’t mind,” Catherine replied, her composure already restored though her eyes still held that cold fury.
“Of course not,” I said quickly.
“Wonderful,” Dr. Matthews smiled, moving to the ultrasound machine. “Let’s see how these babies are doing, shall we?”
The familiar cold gel made me flinch slightly as she spread it across my rounded belly. Catherine moved her chair closer, her expression softening into anticipation as the screen flickered to life.
“There we are,” Dr. Matthews said as grainy images appeared. “Twin A is right here–head, spine, all four chambers of the heart visible and functioning perfectly.”
The whooshing sound of my baby’s heartbeat filled the room, strong and fast. Catherine’s hand found mine, squeezing gently as we watched the screen.
“Perfect,” Dr. Matthews confirmed, moving the wand slightly. “And here’s Twin B, looking equally healthy. Good size for gestational age. The placenta is in excellent position, and–oh!”
“What?” I asked, anxiety spiking. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dr. Matthews assured me quickly. “Twin B just decided to give us a clear view. Would you like to know the sexes? I have a perfect angle here.”
I hesitated. I’d been debating this question for weeks. Part of me wanted to be surprised, but another part craved any information that might make these babies feel more real, more mine.
“Yes,” I decided suddenly. “I’d like to know.”
Dr. Matthews smiled. “Well, Twin A is being a bit shy, but Twin B is definitely a boy. A very proud boy, from this view.”
Catherine laughed softly beside me.
“And Twin A?” I asked, ignoring the pang that came with comparing my babies to Kyle.
Dr. Matthews moved the wand again, coaxing the more reluctant twin into a better position. “Based on what I’m seeing here… also a boy. You’ve got fraternal twin boys, Mia.”
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Chapter 112 He doesn’t deserve you.
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Boys. Two sons. The knowledge settled over me like a warm blanket, suddenly making everything more concrete. I wasn’t just carrying twins–I was carrying my sons.
“Congratulations,” Catherine whispered, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Boys are a handful, but worth every gray hair they give
you.”
Dr. Matthews continued the examination, pointing out various anatomical details–spine, brain, kidneys, heart–all developing normally. I heard her words through a haze of emotion, focusing instead on the rhythmic whooshing of two strong heartbeats.
My sons.
“Everything looks perfect,” Dr. Matthews concluded finally, handing me tissues to wipe away the gel. “They’re exactly the size they should be, and all developmental markers are right on track. You’re doing an excellent job growing these babies, Mia.”
“Thanks,” I managed, my voice thick with unshed tears.
“I’ll give you a minute to get dressed,” she said kindly, recognizing my emotional state. “Meet me in my office when you’re ready, and we’ll go over a few things before your Paris trip.”
After she left, I sat up slowly, tissue clutched in my hand, staring at the blank ultrasound screen. Boys. Two little boys who would someday have Kyle’s features, who might inherit his intelligence, his drive, his—
“Mia,” Catherine’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” I said automatically, then reconsidered. “No. I don’t know.
She studied me for a moment, then stood. “Take your time getting dressed. I’ll wait outside, and we can talk afterward.”
Grateful for the moment alone, I slid off the exam table and began pulling on my clothes with mechanical movements. Boys. Kyle’s sons. The reality of it pressed against me, both thrilling and terrifying.
After meeting with Dr. Matthews to review travel precautions and warning signs to watch for, Catherine and I made our way back to her car in silence. The valet brought it around promptly, and soon we were driving through midday traffic, neither of us speaking.
Finally, Catherine pulled over, guiding the Mercedes into a small park overlooking the river. She turned off the engine and
shifted to face me.
“Talk to me,” she said simply.
I stared out at the water, watching sunlight dance across the surface. “They’re boys,” I said finally, stating the obvious because I couldn’t articulate the complex emotions swirling beneath.
“Yes,” she agreed, waiting patiently for me to continue.
“Kyle’s sons,” I added, my voice catching slightly. “They’ll look like him, probably act like him. They’ll be Bransons, even if they have my last name.”
“They’ll be themselves,” Catherine corrected gently. “Yes, they’ll likely inherit some of Kyle’s traits–and yours. But they’ll be their own people, Mia. Unique and individual.”
“I know that,” I said, frustrated with my inability to express the fear gnawing at me. “Logically, I know that. But…”
“But you’re afraid,” she finished for me.
The perceptiveness of her observation startled me into looking at her directly. Her eyes held no judgment, only understanding. “Yes,” I admitted in a small voice. “Is that terrible?”
“It’s human,” she said simply. ‘Mia, I don’t think I expressed myself well enough just now. I just said, I don’t blame you for the divorce. I meant to say, I’m glad you got divorced. My son, he’s not good enough for you.
Tears welled in my eyes, unexpected and overwhelming.
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Chapter 112 He doesn’t deserve you
“I made the right decision, didn’t I?” I asked suddenly.
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Catherine hugged me for a long moment before answering. “Yes,” she said finally. And she pulled tissues from her purse and handed them to me wordlessly.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dabbing at my eyes. “Pregnancy hormones.”
“No need to apologize,” she assured me. “This is a lot to process, even without the extra estrogen.”
Her dry comment surprised a laugh out of me, breaking the tension
“Mia,” she hesitated. “What you said earlier, about Taylor. About the stairs.”
My stomach clenched, the memory still visceral despite the months that had passed. “What about it?”
“I’d like to hear the full story, if you’re willing to share it,” she said carefully.
And so I told Catherine everything. Catherine listened without interrupting, her expression growing colder with each revelation. When I finished, she was silent for a long moment, her hands perfectly still in her lap.
“I’ve been blind,” she said finally, her voice tight with controlled fury.
“You couldn’t have known,” I said, not wanting her to blame herself.
“And now she faces consequences, finally,” Catherine said with grim satisfaction. “The evidence in that case is irrefutable, I understand?”
I nodded. “Video footage, multiple witnesses. Even Taylor can’t manipulate her way out of this one.”
“Good.” The single word held years of accumulated distaste. “What about your father? Is he still supporting her?”
“Financially, yes, though from what Mom’s discovered, his resources are dwindling rapidly,” I said, thinking of Mom’s gleeful updates on Dad’s business troubles.
“Your mom’s resilience is remarkable.” Catherine said.
“Nobody messes with Sarah Williams and gets away with it.” I agreed, feeling a surge of pride.
“A trait she’s clearly passed to her daughter,” Catherine observed, starting the car again. “I’d say those boys are lucky to have such strong women in their family.”
As we drove back toward my apartment, my phone buzzed with a text.
It was from Mrs. Chen.
