Chapter 40
Ruhi is getting scary day by day.
She’s eight months pregnant now, and even breathing near her feels like inviting death. I’m not exaggerating.
Yesterday I asked her if she wanted soup, and she stared at me like I had personally offended her entire bloodline.
Apparently the soup smelled “aggressive.” I still don’t know what that means.
Right now she’s sitting on the couch in the living room, surrounded by at least six pillows like she’s building some kind of defensive fortress.
Leo is lying beside her like a loyal bodyguard. Meanwhile I’m standing a safe distance away, because apparently standing too close is “hovering.”
Pregnancy rules are confusing.
“Ruhi,” I say carefully.
She slowly turns her head and looks at me. The look alone could make grown men confess their crimes.
“Yes?”
I swallow. “Do you want anything?”
She thinks about it for a moment, tapping her fingers on her stomach thoughtfully. Then she nods.
“Yes.”
Relief fills my chest. Finally something I can do without accidentally offending her.
“What do you want?”
She points toward the kitchen without even looking. “Chocolate ice cream.”
“That’s easy.”
“With strawberries.”
“Also easy.”
“And mango.”
I pause. “Mango… with chocolate ice cream?”
Her eyes slowly narrow. “Are you questioning my pregnancy cravings?”
“No.” I immediately shake my head. “Never.”
“Good.”
Five minutes later I return with the bowl. Chocolate ice cream, strawberries, mango, and whatever strange creation this combination has become.
I hand it to her carefully like I’m presenting an offering to a very dangerous queen.
She takes one bite. Then another.
Then suddenly she frowns.
My body instantly goes on alert. “What?”
“It tastes wrong,” she says suspiciously.
I stare at her. “You asked for it.”
“You made it wrong.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. You just did.”
I rub my temple slowly and sit beside her on the couch, accepting my defeat.
A few minutes later she sets the bowl aside and picks up her phone. She scrolls through something lazily, half focused. Then the phone suddenly slips from her hand and lands beside me on the couch.
The screen lights up.
And unfortunately for her… my contact name is visible.
I pick up the phone slowly. My eyes narrow slightly as I read the screen.
“Ruhi.”
She hums absentmindedly. “Yes?”
I turn the phone toward her. “Why is my number saved as ‘Big Grape’?”
She freezes instantly. Completely. Slowly… very slowly… she turns her head toward me.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I repeat slowly.
She clears her throat and shifts on the couch. “Well…”
“Yes?”
“You kept calling the babies grapes.”
“That does not explain why I am the big one.”
She shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re the father grape.”
I stare at her in complete silence. Leo lifts his head from the couch and looks between us like even he’s questioning her logic.
“Father grape?” I repeat slowly.
She nods very confidently. “Yes.”
I lean back on the couch and drag a hand down my face. The most feared man in Italy has officially been reduced to a fruit.
Ruhi watches my reaction for a moment, trying to stay serious. Then suddenly she bursts into laughter. Real laughter. Her shoulders shake as she tries to breathe.
I stare at her for a few seconds.
Then despite myself… I start laughing too.
Because honestly, at this point, I probably deserve it.
The mansion is quiet when night falls.
Ruhi had finally fallen asleep after threatening to throw another pillow at me for “breathing too loudly.”
I was sitting in the armchair beside the bed, reading through another pregnancy article on my phone, trying to understand what exactly “Braxton Hicks” meant.
Apparently pregnancy has too many complicated words.
The room is silent.
Peaceful.
Until suddenly—
“Lorenzo…”
Her voice is soft.
Weak.
I look up immediately.
Ruhi is sitting up slightly on the bed, her hand pressed against her stomach.
Her face looks… wrong.
Pale.
Tight with pain.
I’m on my feet in seconds.
“What’s wrong?”
She takes a shaky breath.
“My stomach…”
Her fingers grip the bedsheet tightly.
“It hurts.”
My heart drops.
“How bad?”
Another wave hits her.
Her eyes squeeze shut and she lets out a quiet gasp.
“Lorenzo…”
That’s all she says.
But it’s enough.
Within minutes the mansion is in chaos.
Guards moving.
Cars starting.
Grandfather shouting orders somewhere behind me.
I carry Ruhi in my arms as carefully as possible while she clutches my shirt.
“Easy,” I murmur, though my own voice sounds tight.
Leo runs behind us barking anxiously as we rush out.
The car speeds through the dark streets of Italy toward the hospital.
Ruhi’s grip tightens every time the pain comes.
Each time it happens, my chest feels like it’s being crushed.
“Stay with me,” I tell her quietly.
“I’m here.”
Her breathing is uneven.
“I know.”
But her voice trembles.
The moment we arrive at the hospital, doctors and nurses rush toward us.
They place Ruhi onto a stretcher and wheel her inside quickly.
I walk beside them, refusing to let go of her hand.
Doctors begin checking monitors, speaking quickly to each other.
The room fills with machines and urgent voices.
A doctor studies the screen for a moment before looking at me seriously.
“Mr. De Romano”
My chest tightens.
“Yes.”
He takes a breath.
“She’s eight months pregnant with twins. The contractions have started early.”
I nod slowly.
“Is she okay?”
“For now, yes.”
But the doctor’s expression is still serious.
“However… we cannot risk complications.”
My stomach drops.
“What are you saying?”
He glances briefly at Ruhi before looking back at me.
“We need to perform a C-section.”
The words echo in my head.
Ruhi’s eyes slowly open.
She looks at me.
And for the first time in a long time…
I feel something dangerously close to fear.
The doctor’s words echo in my head.
A C-section.
For a moment the entire hospital corridor feels too quiet. Too still. I stare through the glass window where Ruhi is lying on the hospital bed while nurses move quickly around her.
Machines beep softly and doctors speak in low, urgent voices. Everyone seems to know exactly what they’re doing.
Everyone except me.
My chest feels tight as I watch them prepare her. She looks small on that bed, her hand resting on her stomach, her face pale from the pain. A wave of fear rises in my throat before I can stop it.
What if something goes wrong?
What if I lose her?
“Lorenzo.”
A hand lands firmly on my shoulder. I look up and see Grandfather standing beside me, his sharp eyes studying my face. Alexander stands on my other side, calm but serious.
The doctor walks toward me and holds out a clipboard. “Mr. De Romano, we need your consent to perform the surgery.”
My eyes drop to the paper. The words blur slightly as I read them. Consent. Surgical risks. Possible complications. My fingers tighten around the clipboard but my hand refuses to move.
For the first time in years, I hesitate.
Alexander notices immediately. He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “Lorenzo, you need to sign it.”
“I know,” I mutter, but my hand still doesn’t move.
Grandfather exhales quietly beside me. His voice softens in a way it rarely does. “You think she would forgive you if you stood here all night doing nothing?”
His words hit harder than anything else.
I don’t answer, because the truth is obvious. Ruhi would absolutely yell at me for this. Probably throw a pillow too.
Grandfather squeezes my shoulder once. “She’s strong,” he says calmly. “Stronger than you think.”
Alexander nods beside him. “And she’s not alone in there.”
I close my eyes for a brief second. Ruhi’s face flashes through my mind. Her stubborn glare when she’s angry.
The way she laughs when she thinks something is ridiculous. The way she called me Big Grape without even feeling guilty about it.
And the ultrasound. Two tiny heartbeats on the screen.
Two babies.
Ours.
Slowly I take the pen from the doctor. My hand finally moves across the paper as I sign my name at the bottom.
The doctor nods once. “Thank you. We’ll take good care of her.”
Within seconds the nurses begin moving faster. They wheel Ruhi’s bed toward the operating room doors while adjusting the monitors and speaking quietly to each other.
I walk beside the stretcher instinctively, not letting myself fall behind. For a brief moment Ruhi’s eyes open and meet mine.
I move closer and gently take her hand. “I’m right here,” I tell her quietly.
Her fingers squeeze mine weakly before the nurses push the bed through the double doors.
The doors close.
And suddenly the hallway feels unbearably silent.
For the first time in my life, there is nothing I can control.
The hallway feels endless.
Grandfather and Alexander sit beside me, trying to act calm, but I can feel the tension around all of us. The surgery doors remain closed, the small red light above them glowing steadily.
Time moves strangely.
Too slow.
Too fast.
I don’t even realize how tightly my hands are clenched until Alexander nudges my arm lightly.
“You’re going to break your own fingers at this rate,” he mutters.
I ignore him and keep staring at the doors.
Minutes pass.
Or maybe hours.
I honestly can’t tell anymore.
My mind keeps replaying the same thoughts over and over. Ruhi on the hospital bed. Her pale face. Her hand squeezing mine before the doors closed.
What if something goes wrong?
What if—
The floor suddenly tilts.
A strange ringing fills my ears.
Alexander’s voice becomes distant.
“Lorenzo?”
Grandfather’s voice follows immediately.
“Sit down, boy—”
The world spins.
And everything goes black.
When I wake up, the first thing I hear is Alexander’s voice.
“Well, look who decided to return to the land of the living.”
I blink slowly, trying to focus. The hospital ceiling comes into view above me. I’m lying on a couch in the waiting area.
My head throbs slightly.
Grandfather stands nearby with his arms crossed, watching me with clear disapproval.
“You fainted,” he says flatly.
I sit up immediately.
“Ruhi.”
My voice comes out rough.
Alexander pushes my shoulder lightly. “Relax. She’s still in surgery.”
The words barely settle in my mind before—
A sound cuts through the quiet hallway.
A baby’s cry.
High.
Loud.
My heart stops.
Another cry follows almost immediately.
Two voices.
Two babies.
Grandfather’s serious expression suddenly softens.
Alexander looks toward the surgery doors with wide eyes.
“Well,” he mutters.
“Sounds like your grapes arrived.”
The surgery doors swing open a moment later.
A nurse steps out with a bright smile.
“Congratulations,” she says warmly.
“You have two healthy boys.”
For a second I just stare at her.
The words echo in my head.
Two.
Healthy.
Boys.
My legs move before my brain catches up.
“Ruhi?” I ask immediately.
The nurse nods reassuringly.
“Your wife is doing well. The surgery went perfectly.”
The tight knot in my chest finally loosens.
Somewhere behind me Alexander lets out a low whistle.
Grandfather pats my back once, much harder than necessary.
“You did it,” he says gruffly.
But I barely hear them.
Because all I can think about now is one thing.
Ruhi.
And the two tiny lives we just brought into the world.