The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 117: The pressure

The days didn’t pass. They dragged. Each hour stretching into the next, heavy and suffocating, until time itself felt like something cruel, something designed to wear them down. For fourteen days, the Pedro estate became a quiet battlefield.

Amara moved through it like a ghost.

Every morning, without fail, Amira appeared at her door with the same porcelain cup filled with that bitter recovery tea. The smell alone was enough to make Amara’s stomach turn now, sharp and herbal, lingering long after the last sip.

"You need to finish it," Amira would say, her tone gentle but firm, watching closely as Amara forced it down.

Amara never argued. She didn’t have the strength to. And somehow... she trusted her.

Even now. Even when something deep inside her whispered that she shouldn’t.

—

Far from the estate, but never truly absent, Sebastian remained a constant shadow. His presence came in the form of short, precise messages. Is she pale? Is she eating? Any changes? No wasted words.

No concern for anything beyond the outcome. Amira always replied.

Sometimes quickly. Sometimes, after a pause that stretched just a little too long. But she replied. Because by now, she was too far in to turn back.

—

Inside the master bedroom, the silence was worse. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t explosive. It was quiet. Careful. And that made it unbearable.

The space between Amara and Julian had grown into something tangible, something that pressed against them even when they stood inches apart.

A distance neither of them knew how to cross anymore. Julian felt it the most. Every time he reached for her, Amara slipped away. Not dramatically.

Not coldly. Just... subtly. A shift. A step back. A quiet excuse.

"I have a headache tonight."

"I’m still not feeling well."

"I need to finish this call." Each one reasonable. Each one is believable.

And each one... another wall. At first, Julian had been patient.

Careful. He didn’t push. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He told himself she needed time. That her body was recovering. Whatever she was going through, he just had to stand beside her steady and supportive. But patience has limits.

And love, when it feels shut out, starts to ache.

—

That Tuesday night, the rain came down in soft, steady sheets, tapping against the windows like a quiet rhythm. The room was dim. Calm. Too calm.

Amara stood near the window, her arms wrapped lightly around herself, her thoughts distant. Julian watched her from across the room. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Just watched. Then he moved. Slowly. Carefully.

Closing the space between them like he had done so many times before, like it was instinct, like it was home. "Amara..." he said softly.

She turned slightly, her expression tired, guarded, but she didn’t step away. Not this time. That was enough.

Julian reached for her, his hand coming up to cradle her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek. There was something desperate in the way he looked at her now, something raw beneath the control.

"I miss you," he murmured. And before she could respond. He kissed her. Soft at first. Then deeper. Grounding. Like he was trying to remind both of them what they were.

What they still had. For a moment. Amara didn’t resist. Her breath caught, her body reacting instinctively, leaning just slightly into him. And then..

It hit her. The doctor’s warning. One month. No intimacy. Permanent complication. Her eyes widened. Panic flickered through her chest. She pulled back. Quickly. Too quickly.

Julian stilled instantly. The absence of her was immediate.

Sharp. Amara looked away, her gaze dropping to the floor, her hands curling slightly at her sides.

"I... I can’t," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The words landed harder than anything else.

Julian exhaled slowly, stepping back just enough to look at her fully.

"Amara..." his voice was tight now, controlled, but strained beneath it. "What is going on?" She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

"Nothing. I just... I told you, I’m not feeling well."

"That’s not it," he said, more firmly this time.

Silence. Rain against the glass. Amara said nothing.

Julian ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face now real, visible.

"You’ve been ’not feeling well’ for two weeks," he continued, his voice rising just slightly. "You won’t let me touch you. You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me half the time."

Each word was controlled. But barely.

"I’m your husband, Amara," he said, quieter now but heavier. "Not a stranger you need to avoid."

That hit. She flinched slightly, her breath catching. "I’m not avoiding you," she whispered.

"Then what are you doing?" he pressed, his gaze locking onto hers now. "Because it feels like you’re shutting me out." Amara’s chest tightened.

Because he wasn’t wrong. But she couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t explain something she didn’t fully understand herself.

"I just...," she said softly. Julian stared at her. Searching. Waiting. For something more. But nothing came.

And that. That broke something. He nodded once. Slowly.

"Fine," he said quietly. But there was distance in it now. A quiet resignation. He stepped back, creating space between them again.

This time. He didn’t try to close it.

"Julian, I’m just—"

"If I’ve done something to make you lose your desire for me, tell me," Julian said, his voice cracking with a rare vulnerability. "If you don’t want me in this bed anymore, I will gladly move to the guest wing. I won’t force my presence on you if you’ve grown cold to me.

The sight of Julian, the man who had shielded her from the Creeds and held her through her mother’s death, looking so defeated, was the final straw. Amara broke. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t quiet.

One moment she was standing there, holding everything in as she had for days... and the next, it all shattered.

The tears came all at once, hot, uncontrollable, spilling down her cheeks as her breath hitched violently. She tried to speak, but the words tangled in her throat, broken by sobs she could no longer suppress.

"Amara—" Julian stepped toward her instantly, alarm flashing across his face.

"I didn’t know what to do," she cried, her voice trembling, raw. "I thought...I thought I was failing you." His expression shifted.

Confusion. Then concern.