Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 573

Lately, Izabella had taken up knitting sweaters. Unlike her fairly proficient scarf-making skills, sweaters were a whole new ballgame. Bunny, her ever-patient neighbor, was sitting beside her on the couch, walking her through the process.

The baby’s due date was expected to be around mid-October, and by the time winter rolled in, the hand-knitted sweater would be ready to keep the little one warm.

Izabella was a quick study, her fingers nimble and adept. Bunny only had to demonstrate once before Izabella got the hang of it. Impressed by her speedy learning, Bunny even showed her a few intricate patterns.

The two women would sit together in the living room, the TV murmuring in the background as they worked their needles and yarn.

Typically, Izabella’s hands flew through the work, but today, for some reason, her fingers kept getting tangled in the yarn, and she dropped stitches here and there, forcing her to unravel and start over.

When Casey walked in, what he saw was Izabella, sitting peacefully on the sofa, her needles clicking rapidly as she concentrated on her knitting. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair cascaded down her back, and the sunlight filtered through the window, bathing her in a gentle glow.

He approached quietly, not wanting to disturb her, but Izabella sensed his presence and looked up, meeting his gaze.

“Back early today?” she remarked, noting the sun hadn’t yet set.

“Wanted to spend more time with you,” Casey replied, settling beside her. He glanced at the sweater in progress and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Wow, you’ve gotten this far already?”

Izabella grinned, proudly holding up the half-finished sweater. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Casey admitted, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “You never knit me a sweater.”

Izabella nearly burst into laughter. “Jealous of our unborn kids? Really, Casey?”

His wounded look told her he was half-serious.

“Alright, I’ll knit you one after I finish these,” she promised, though she added, “But don’t expect it to be as good as store-bought.”

“To me, anything you make will be the best in the world. I’d wear it every day.”

“Even in the summer?” she teased.

“Yep,” he said without hesitation, and Izabella knew that if she did knit him a sweater, he’d either never wear it for fear of ruining it, or never take it off.

Casey watched Izabella’s knitting technique, and after a few moments, he felt a surge of confidence. He thought he could do it too.

He moved over to the other side of the sofa, where a ball of yarn and a partially knit sweater lay. Without a second thought, he picked up the needles and started imitating what he had seen.

The result? A tangled mess. Bunny came back from the restroom to find her hard work in ruins, the sweater now barely recognizable.

Annoyed, she smacked Casey on the head. “What on earth have you done to the sweater I've been working on?”

Casey, taken aback by the sudden reprimand and rubbing his head, tried to explain. “I just wanted to learn. I thought I’d try to knit one for Bella.”

Bunny’s initial anger subsided when she realized his intentions, though she couldn’t help but think he could have just practiced with his own materials instead of ruining hers.

Casey’s explanation was, “I was trying to see the details, understand the process. I didn’t realize the yarn was that delicate. I just pulled and it all came undone.”

So now it was her fault?

Bunny was not letting him off easy, tugging at his ear until Casey called for Izabella to save him.

Izabella watched, laughing so hard she began to feel it in her stomach. Casey, noticing her discomfort, immediately rushed to her side, worried. It was just a case of laughing too hard, she assured him.

After making sure Izabella was okay, Casey became protective, almost obsessively so. He’d even started keeping a log of her weight, blood pressure, and heart rate.

Bunny left them to their evening, and Casey, aware of Izabella’s recent cravings for tangy and spicy foods, prepared a sour and spicy poached fish for dinner. It was a hit – Izabella didn’t feel sick afterwards and even let out a contented burp.

They had worked hard for their happiness, and it made it all the more precious.

As Izabella rested in Casey's arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she said, "We promised to stand by each other, this year, next year, or decades from now. When we're old and can't walk, we'll face whatever comes together."

Casey tightened his embrace, "Of course. And if we can't walk, our kids will carry us around. Speaking of which, I've thought of pet names for them: Annie and Benny. What do you think?"

Annie and Benny, a wish for their days to be peaceful and their years to be content. He didn't wish for wealth or fame, just for their happiness and safety.

"Sounds lovely," Izabella's voice was hoarse and sweet, signaling her drift into sleep. Casey glanced down to find her eyes gently closed.

That night, there were no nightmares for Izabella. She dreamt of giving birth to two healthy babies who grew up and learned to walk, clumsily running into her arms calling, "Mama."

At twenty weeks pregnant, Casey was the ever-attentive partner, accompanying Izabella to the hospital for check-ups. During the ultrasound, he couldn't take his eyes off the screen. The four-month-old twins were clearly visible, nestled together.

Helping Izabella up, the doctor reassured them, "Don't worry, the babies are healthy. Both are developing well, but you still need to be careful. Keep up with the check-ups and nutrition."

Casey took it to heart, instantly sharing the ultrasound images in the family group chat and his work chat with a proud caption: "Check out my little girl."

His agent, seeing Casey spamming the chat with emojis, facepalmed and sighed, "Mr. Dempsey is at it again. That's the eighth time this month."

Before love, Casey flaunted his crush on Izabella. After they became a couple, he boasted about their marriage, and now, about their children. If the chat wasn't discussing his wife, he was praising her.

And he required responses. If they ignored him, he'd just keep spamming until someone engaged, relentlessly inquiring if his wife wasn't incredible.

He seemed oblivious to the group's single members, who were forced to endure his daily dose of affection, showing not an ounce of sympathy for these "lonely hearts."

As the couple left the hospital, Izabella's phone buzzed. Thinking it was Casey's phone at first, she soon realized it was hers. Pulling out the device, her pupils darkened as she recognized the number calling her.