The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 115: The Wall Between Husband and Wife

Behind the observation glass, the room felt colder. Clinical. Detached.

Amara lay still beneath the harsh surgical lights, her body motionless, vulnerable in a way she had never been before. The steady rhythm of machines filled the silence, beeping, humming, indifferent.

And behind it all... Sebastian stood watching. Unmoving.

His gaze was fixed on her pale form, his expression unreadable to anyone who might have looked his way. But there was something unsettling in the stillness of him, something deliberate.

This was never just about a simple procedure. Never just about one egg.

His jaw tightened ever so slightly as the doctors worked with quiet efficiency, their movements precise, practiced... rehearsed.

He wanted certainty. Control. If Amara was going to build a future and a legacy, then he would make sure it carried him within it.

Not by chance. Not by hope. But by design. His design. He said nothing. Just watched. Until it was done.

—

When Amara began to wake, it wasn’t sudden. It came in fragments.

A slow, heavy pull back into awareness, like she was dragging herself through thick water. Sound returned first muted, distant, then sensation.

Pain. A dull, dragging ache deep in her abdomen.

It spread slowly, settling into her bones, making her shift instinctively with a soft, strained breath.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Used. And strangely. Empty.

Her lashes fluttered, vision blurry as the ceiling came into focus in pieces. The light above her felt too bright, too sharp, forcing her to squint.

"Easy," a voice murmured beside her. A hand steadied her shoulder as she tried to sit up.

"Take your time." Amara swallowed, her throat dry, her head spinning slightly as she pushed herself upright with effort.

"What..." her voice came out faint, barely there. "What happened?" The doctor, still calm, still composed, offered her a reassuring smile.

"It’s just the standard reaction to the hormonal shift," he said smoothly. "Your body is adjusting. Soon, if you continue the treatment, you will be able to conceive."

Amara frowned faintly, her hand drifting unconsciously to her abdomen.

It hurt. More than she expected.

"Everything went perfectly," he continued, his tone gentle, controlled. "There’s nothing to worry about." Perfectly.

The word echoed strangely in her mind. "Listen carefully, though," he added, his voice lowering slightly, drawing her full attention. "Your system is in a very delicate state right now; your eggs are boosted."

Amara blinked slowly, trying to focus. "You must abstain from any intimacy for at least one month," he said firmly. "No exceptions."

Her brows knit together slightly. "A month...?" she repeated weakly.

"If you don’t," he went on, his expression turning serious, "you risk a permanent complication."

That word. Permanent. It settled heavily in her chest.

Amara swallowed again, a flicker of unease passing through her fogged thoughts. "I... understand," she murmured.

"Good," the doctor said, nodding once. "Come back in four weeks for your review. We’ll make sure everything is progressing as it should, that your eggs are strong enough."

Progressing. Another word that felt... misplaced. But her mind was too slow, too clouded to question it. She nodded faintly.

The room felt too quiet again. Too controlled. As if everything had already been decided... and she was the last to know.

—

Somewhere beyond those walls. The plan had already been set in motion. And Amara? She was just beginning to feel its consequences.

The doors of the clinic slid open, and Amara stepped out slowly, each movement carefully measured, as if her body no longer fully belonged to her.

The light outside felt too bright. Too sharp. She paused for just a second, steadying herself.

"Amara!" Amira rushed toward her almost immediately, her expression tight with nervous anticipation. Her eyes scanned Amara’s face quickly, too quickly, searching for something.

"How did it go, sister?" she asked, her voice light, but strained beneath the surface.

Amara blinked, still trying to gather her thoughts, her body heavy with that lingering, unnatural fatigue.

"I... I don’t know," she admitted softly. "He said we need to come back in a month... to see if my eggs are strong enough to be fertilized or..." She shook her head slightly. "Something like that."

Her hand moved unconsciously to her abdomen again, her brows knitting faintly.

"But it feels strange," she added, quieter this time. "More than I expected."

Amira’s lips parted, then pressed together as she forced a small smile.

"Well... at least it’s worth the try, right?" she said, her tone carefully optimistic. "Who knows... soon, you might be able to give Julian a child."

The words lingered in the air. Heavy. Amira bit her lip slightly, turning away before Amara could study her too closely.

"Let’s go," she added quickly.

—

The ride home was agonizing.

Every small bump in the road sent a dull, sharp ache through Amara’s body, forcing her to wince despite her efforts to stay composed. She sat stiffly in her seat, her fingers gripping lightly onto the edge, her breathing shallow.

Beside her, Amira talked. Too much. About nothing. About everything.

Her words filled the silence in rushed waves, forced laughter, unnecessary details, and questions that didn’t need answers. It was a distraction.

Obvious. Desperate. Amara noticed. But she didn’t have the strength to question it. She simply nodded when needed, her focus slipping in and out as her body demanded all of her attention. Something wasn’t right.

She could feel it.

—

By the time they pulled into the estate, exhaustion had settled deep into her bones. The car barely came to a full stop before Amara spotted him. Julian.

Standing on the porch. Waiting.

The moment he saw her, something in his posture shifted sharply, immediately. His gaze locked onto her, scanning her from head to toe in a second. Her pale face. The way she moved. The tension she couldn’t hide. And just like that. His instincts flared.

He stepped forward quickly as she got out of the car.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his voice low but there was an edge to it now, something tight with concern. "I’ve been calling for three hours." Amara’s heart tightened.

Guilt. Sharp. Immediate. "Just... a long day at the Foundation with Amira," she said softly. The lie came out smoother than she expected. And it hurt. It hurt more than the ache in her body.

Because the moment she said it. She stepped into him. Into his arms. Seeking comfort.

Needing it. Julian didn’t hesitate. He reached for her instantly, one arm wrapping around her, pulling her close like he had been holding himself back from doing exactly that.

"Hey..." he murmured, his voice softening immediately. "What’s wrong?" His hand moved gently along her side. And Amara flinched. A sharp, involuntary reaction. Her breath caught.

Julian froze.

His grip tightened slightly, but not in force in alarm. "What happened?" he asked, his tone changing instantly, sharper now, more focused.

Amara shook her head quickly, pulling back just enough to avoid his touch on her waist again.

"I... I think I caught a stomach bug," she said, her voice weaker now, more believable because part of it was true she did feel unwell. "I’m just... exhausted, Julian."

His eyes searched hers. Carefully. Too carefully. Like he was trying to see past the words. Past the explanation. To something else. Something that didn’t sit right.

"You don’t look okay," he said quietly. Amara offered a faint, tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I just need to rest," she whispered. For a moment, Julian didn’t respond.

Didn’t move. Then, slowly, his hand came up gentler this time, brushing lightly against her arm instead, avoiding the place that made her flinch.

"Alright," he said finally, though it didn’t sound like he believed it. "Let’s get you inside." He kept close to her as they walked, his presence steady, protective. But his gaze?

It darkened. Because something about this. Didn’t feel right at all. And Julian was starting to sense it.