Mummy should Remarry
Remi's POV
I leaned over my desk, eyes half-closed, staring at the endless stream of numbers on the screen. My mind wasn’t in it. The calculations blurred, and all I could think about was how stupid I’d been. I should’ve charged Rowan. He had more than enough to spare, and I’d saved his life. Twice, if you counted the surgery and the fact I hadn’t let him rot in the mess of his own arrogance.
But, no. I’d done it for free. And now here I was, trying to figure out how to make ends meet as a rising surgeon with barely any cash in hand. It didn’t matter how many people praised me, called me a genius, or said I was one of the most promising surgeons in the country. At the end of the day, I still had bills to pay, mouths to feed, and research projects draining every dollar I’d ever saved.
I sighed heavily, leaning back in my chair, rubbing my temples. It was ridiculous. Everything was going into this new research facility, a dream I’d been building for years. It was supposed to help other people, other lives. But now it felt like I was sinking into a financial black hole.
I glanced at the government funds coming in. They’d been helpful—barely enough to keep the project alive—but it wasn’t enough to stop me from losing sleep. My gaze shifted to the little income I was still getting from taking care of Mrs. Isolde, Rowan’s grandmother. She was the one lifeline I could still count on, though I hated to think of her that way.
I calculated again, double-checking the numbers. Between the government grants and Mrs. Isolde’s payments, I’d be good to go. I could make it through the next few months. Heck, maybe I could even squeeze in that trip to Paris for the medical conference I’d been eyeing. That would be a good distraction. A much-needed break.
I glanced at the property documents sitting on the side of my desk. The beach house. Selling it would bring in enough cash to keep the facility afloat for another year. It was a tempting idea, but it felt too much like giving up. That beach house had been a rare piece of happiness for the twins and me. Letting it go would be... hard.
I stood up and shook off the thoughts. There was no use sitting here and wallowing in regrets. It was time to visit Mrs. Isolde anyway.
---
The air in Mrs. Isolde’s private room was calm, with only the faint hum of medical equipment in the background. The elderly woman lay peacefully in her bed, her sharp eyes watching me as I entered. Despite her age, she had a kind of quiet strength, something Rowan must’ve inherited.
I offered her a warm smile as I set down my bag and checked her vitals, my fingers working automatically while my mind wandered. She’d been improving steadily since her last treatment, but I liked to make sure everything was as it should be. No room for mistakes.
“How are we feeling today, Mrs. Isolde?” I asked, flipping through her chart.
“Better, thanks to you,” she said, her voice soft but clear.
I smiled, adjusting her pillow slightly. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
She looked at me for a long moment, something thoughtful in her expression. I started packing away my things when she suddenly spoke again.
“I’m sorry, Remi.”
Her words made me pause. I looked up, frowning slightly. “Sorry for what?”
“For the way Rowan treated you,” she said quietly, her eyes studying me with a kind of sadness that made my chest tighten.
I blinked, trying to keep my face neutral, but the words stung more than I expected. It had been years, but somehow hearing them from his grandmother made it feel... real. I forced a small smile, shaking my head.
“It’s in the past, Mrs. Isolde. Don’t worry about it.”
She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze still locked on mine, as if searching for something. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice even softer than before.
“Are Larry and Laura his grandchildren?”
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart stopped for a second, and I stared at her, trying to keep my face composed. I hadn’t expected her to ask. I didn’t even know she suspected.
I hesitated, my mind scrambling for an answer. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t drag her into this mess, not after everything she’d been through.
“No,” I said, forcing the lie out, my voice steady even though my heart raced. “They look like him, I know. But it’s just a coincidence.”
She frowned slightly, not convinced. I could see the doubt in her eyes, but I wasn’t going to back down.
“Their father is dead,” I added, swallowing hard. “Yes, I was once married to Rowan, but... he never touched me. Not that way.” I shifted, hating how the lie felt on my tongue. “I dated someone back in university. We were together for a while, but... he died in a car crash.”
Mrs. Isolde’s eyes softened, sympathy replacing the doubt. She reached out a frail hand and gently patted mine.
“I see,” she said quietly, though there was still something in her gaze that made me feel exposed. Vulnerable.
I cleared my throat, straightening up and trying to shake off the unease. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Isolde. The twins are doing fine, and everything’s under control. You just focus on getting better.”
She smiled faintly, though the sadness in her eyes remained. “You’re a strong woman, Remi. Stronger than you know. But sometimes... it’s alright to let others in. Even Rowan.”
I froze at the mention of his name, but I quickly forced another smile, nodding as if I agreed. I didn’t. Letting Rowan in again was the last thing on my mind.
“Well,” I said, packing up the last of my equipment, “I’ll be back next week for another check-up. But if you need anything before then, don’t hesitate to call.”
Mrs. Isolde nodded, but as I left the room, her words echoed in my mind. Are Larry and Laura his grandchildren?
It was a question I had to keep burying, but every time it came up, the weight of it felt heavier. How long could I keep this secret? How long before the truth slipped out—whether I wanted it to or not?
****
I stepped into the house, the familiar sounds of Larry and Laura’s laughter greeting me instantly. The tightness in my chest, the heaviness from the day, all of it melted away as soon as I saw them. They were in the living room, sprawled on the floor, surrounded by Legos, their faces lit up with joy. It was impossible not to smile.
“Mummy!” Laura called out, springing to her feet the moment she noticed me. She ran over and hugged my legs tightly, looking up at me with those wide, curious eyes of hers. Larry followed, grinning ear to ear. They were always like this—full of life, full of questions.
“Hey, you two,” I said, ruffling Larry’s hair before leaning down to kiss Laura on the top of her head. “How was school?”
They exchanged a quick glance, and for a second, I felt like I missed something, but before I could ask, Laura spoke up.
“School was good,” she said quickly, then tilted her head. “But we’ve been thinking about something, Mummy.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. I made my way into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water to keep myself hydrated after the long day. “Oh yeah?” I asked, taking a sip. “What’ve you two been scheming about now?”
Larry grinned mischievously, plopping down on the couch. “Nothing bad. Just something we wanted to ask.”
Laura jumped in right after him, her face serious in that way only seven-year-olds can manage. “Yeah, Mummy. We were just wondering... what do you think about remarrying?”
The question hit me mid-sip, and before I knew it, water sprayed from my mouth, soaking the front of my shirt and a little bit of the counter. I coughed, trying to recover, and the twins burst into laughter, rolling around on the floor like they’d just pulled the best prank ever.
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