My Surrogate, My Love... (Mafia Romance, 18+)

Chapter twenty three.

I'm sat next to Leandro in the hospital lobby, here for the ultrasound. I'll actually get to see the little human growing inside of me, my baby. I'm actually...I don't know...excited, nervous maybe?

"Mr and Mrs Leone, your next," the nurse informs.
I'm Mrs Leone now, huh? I like.
Standing, she walks us down white-tiled floors, and finally, into the intended room.

"Welcome, Mr and Mrs Leone, my name is Doctor Andrez. Mrs Leone, please, go ahead and lie down right over there," the doctor, male, short, and grey-haired, directs, and I do as told.
He treads up to me, asks that I uplift my cropped hoodie slightly, and I do.

Leandro is sat beside me on a wooden stool, arms folded, feet crossed, one over the other, eyes piercing into the flesh on my stomach, watching in complete silence. The doctor holds up a small device, and some colourless tin of what appears to be gel.
"This, Mrs Leone, is a probe called a transducer," Andrez begins, before proceeding to rub the gel over my lower stomach.

Oh, this shit is cold!
"I will place it over the part covered in gel, then the high-frequency sound waves will travel from this probe, through the gel, and into your body. The probe will collect any sound that bounces back from your womb," he explains further, running the scanner over the part he just gelled.
I look at the little screen on my left, only to make out not one, but two images.

"Doctor, why are there two images on the screen?"
Leandro's hand reaches for mine, fingers intertwining, slightly squeezing, and causing my attention switch to him instead. That's when realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning. I am carrying...
"You are expecting twins, Mrs Leone. Congratulations ," Andrez announces, smiling down at me.

"I am carrying twins? I am carrying twins! Oh my goodness, bless the heavens!" I exclaim, palming my mouth, with eyes growing teary.
Leandro stands, embraces me gently, then presses a kiss against my forehead.
"Àmórè, thank you. Thank you so much. I am going be the father of two all at once."

After the ultrasound session, Andrez gives me some instructions, simple dos and don'ts, because apparently, I've been stressing out a lot, and it's not healthy for the babies. After sitting in the room for goodness knows how long, we match down halls, in and out elevator doors, and out of the building. Some lady nurses, back there, repetitively stared at Leandro, and even now, I can't help the pang that slices my chest.

Leandro is one fine specimen, yes. His choice of dressing, is a bonus. He knows it, I know it, every fucking body that's had the privilege of seeing or meeting him, knows it. I can only roll my eyes at the ridiculous emotions of envy, as we continue towards the black sports car. I've noticed that he is a crazed lover of black, must be his favorite color.

"You appear troubled by their glances, àmórè. Don't be."
"When I say you belong to me, I mean you belong to me, and I ain't sharing or none of that shit," calmly, I explain.
His only response is a low, throaty chuckle, as he walks over to his side of the car, and climbs in.

"Do you want to grab something to eat before we head back, àmórè?"
"What kinda question is that? Of course we have to stop over at some food place. I am freaking starved."
He ignites the engine, drives off without another word, and that makes me think back to my response, makes me question myself.
Guilty, I feel extremely guilty for snapping at him.

"Leo, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I don't know what's wrong with me."
He keeps silent for a minute or three,  focus drawn on the roads ahead, causing me to chew on my bottom lip.
"Pregnancy does come with a bonus package of mood swings, so you need not worry, àmórè."

Driving to some classy restaurant, we order ourselves something to eat. For me, some french fries, two chicken burgers, a chicken burrito and blended juice, while Leandro only orders some french fries with ketchup, salad and a Coke. As we eat, we ponder and converse on the names we'd like to call our twins.
"How about Nathan and Daniel," I suggest, and that only earns me a stoic expression.