Page 91 of Innocent Bratva Twins

The only thing bothering me about this appointment is that Nico isn’t here with me.

I didn’t invite him—he left it up to me to decide, and I couldn’t make up my mind. Now that I’m inside the doctor’s office, I wish I had made a different choice.

“Miss. Andreev. The doctor is a beautiful woman, around forty years old. She has a kind face, framed by gold glasses and pale pink lipstick.

“It’s Miss. Brown.” I smile.

“Oh. Ok. No, problem. I’ll just update that on the system for you—is Mr. Andreev—“ She doesn’t finish the sentence but just raises her brows at me and waits.

“He is the father, yes.” I nod. He made the appointment for me. This is apparently the best obstetrician in the city.

“Are we waiting for him?” She asks.

“No, not today.” I swallow away my regret.

“Alright, then let’s get started. Will you hop up onto the bed for me?”

She checks my blood pressure, my heart rate, and asks me a million questions. Finally, she asks me to lie down.

“You can lift your shirt up—yes—that’s great.”

Excitement tickles over me as I lift my t-shirt out of the way, and she chats while she rubs a cold gel over my stomach.

“Sorry, I should have warmed this up. You’re my first patient of the day, and this morning was a mad rush.”

“It’s ok,” I say, staring at the screen, waiting for my first glimpse of the little peanut.

She points at a white blur on the monitor and then gasps, her hand hovering above the screen.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, tense with worry.

The doctor giggles and shakes her head. “No, not at all, sorry—I didn’t mean to give you a fright—but I do have some pretty big news for you.”

“What?” I ask, my stomach knotting. “What is it?”

She moves the device over my tummy. “Let me just get a better view—“

My head is spinning with impatience. Why can’t she just tell me what she’s seen?

“Is my baby ok?” I squeal when I can’t take it anymore.

She points at the screen again. At two white blobs, the pulsing sound of heartbeats thrum through the room. “Twins.” She says happily.

“What?” I blurt out.

“Here. You can’t see much when they are this little, but there are definitely two of them. And you can hear their little hearts beating like drums.” She zooms in on the monitor and the images become clearer.

Two.

Two tiny babies.

All curled up like little beans.

“I’m having twins,” I whisper to myself.

Without any warning at all, I burst into tears.

Instead of being shocked, the doctor stands up and laughs lightheartedly.