Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 570

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Izabella's blissful pregnancy, unmarred by morning sickness, was abruptly disrupted. Casey, with worry etched across his face, feared something might be wrong and swiftly took her to the hospital for a prenatal check-up.

The process was thorough and time-consuming, but thankfully, they didn't have to wait in line. They spent the entire morning running from one test to another—blood work, urinalysis, blood pressure and weight checks, trace mineral screenings, and the all-revealing ultrasound…

After the battery of tests, Casey sat with Izabella in the waiting area, anticipating the results.

Izabella had been pregnant before, but neither experience lasted long. The second time, she lost her baby at four months, just when the flutters of life were becoming kicks, ending in a heartbreaking C-section.

Those days, Izabella endured the prenatal visits alone, battling severe nausea, struggling to eat, coping with swollen ankles, and feeling utterly exhausted.

The tedium of check-ups was enough to make anyone drowsy, and silence only deepened the urge to sleep. But this time was different; she wasn't alone—Casey was by her side.

Instinctively, Izabella glanced at Casey, and as he turned to meet her gaze, he noticed the redness in her eyes. Without a word, he drew her into his embrace.

"Get some rest. I'll wake you when the results are in."

"Mhm," Izabella murmured, nuzzling into his chest to find a comfortable spot before closing her eyes.

The hospital's faint antiseptic odor usually made her uneasy, but nestled in Casey's arms, the smell vanished, replaced by an unprecedented sense of security.

Casey held her tight, stiffening his body to provide her with a stable place to sleep.

His gaze wandered to the propaganda posters on the walls, promoting healthy pregnancies, showcasing chubby, cherubic babies with grape-like eyes. He was mesmerized, wondering whether their child would be a boy or a girl.

Old sayings claimed boys took after their mothers and girls their fathers. Casey found himself torn between the two, fearing the vulnerability of a daughter and the thought of her eventual departure. Yet, he couldn't help but lean toward the idea of a girl—a mini-Izabella would be adorable.

Ideally, twins—a boy and a girl—would be perfect. That way, they'd have their own little Boris and Celeste.

Gender could be determined at four months, but they'd have to wait until the next appointment.

Izabella, half-sitting, half-lying in Casey's arms, didn't seem to sleep peacefully. She felt like she'd been asleep for ages, but it had only been ten minutes.