The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 119: The shadow’s Anxiety

The next morning felt... lighter. For the first time in weeks, Amara woke without that dragging weight in her body. The dull ache had faded, her mind felt clearer, and there was a quiet kind of energy beneath her skin, something warm, something alive.

She was sitting by the window when Amira walked in, carrying the usual tray. The tea. That same bitter, herbal scent filled the room instantly.

Amara’s nose wrinkled. "I can’t drink that anymore," she said, almost immediately, shaking her head as she pushed the cup away gently. "It’s been making me nauseous."

Amira paused. Just for a second. Her fingers tightened slightly around the tray.

"It’s part of your recovery," she said carefully. "You should..."

"I feel fine," Amara cut in, her tone soft but certain. She stood, smoothing her dress as she moved past her. "Actually, I feel great." And it was true.

There was a glow to her now, subtle but unmistakable. The heaviness that had clung to her for weeks had lifted, replaced by something lighter... freer.

"I have meetings lined up today," she added, grabbing her bag. "I can’t keep taking something that makes me feel worse." Amira studied her.

Closely. Too closely. There was color in Amara’s cheeks now. Life in her eyes. No weakness. No suspicion. Just... normalcy.

Amira forced a small smile. "Alright," she said finally, setting the tray down. "If you’re feeling better, then... that’s what matters."

But as Amara walked past her, something twisted in Amira’s chest. It’s just her egg. That’s what she told herself. That’s all they took. She should be fine. She is fine.

So why did it feel like something was slipping?

—

A month passed. And everything changed.

The heavy, suffocating atmosphere that had once filled the estate was gone, replaced by something vibrant, almost electric. Laughter returned. Light returned. And at the center of it all. Amara.

She moved through the house as she belonged there again, her presence warm, grounded, alive. The grief hadn’t disappeared, but it had softened, woven into something quieter, something she could carry without breaking.

And Julian? He never strayed far from her. Not out of fear this time. But out of love.

The distance between them had disappeared completely, replaced by a connection that felt deeper than before, tested, broken, and rebuilt into something stronger.

Amara felt it in everything. In the way he looked at her. In the way he touched her. In the way he chose her, every single day. She felt whole again.

—

Amira did not. Every time she saw her sister. Healthy. Radiant. Happy. Her chest tightened. Her heartbeat quickened in a way that had nothing to do with joy. Because she knew something Amara didn’t.

And that knowledge was starting to feel like a weight she couldn’t carry much longer. Her phone buzzed constantly. Short messages.

Sharp. Demanding. Sebastian didn’t stop.

Any changes? Has she returned for review? Is everything progressing?

Progressing. The word made her stomach twist every time she saw it. Because only he knew what had really been done.

And the more time passed. The less control she felt she had. Over him. Over the situation. Over everything.

—

"Amara." Amira’s voice cut through the hallway one morning, sharper than usual.

Amara turned, surprised to find her standing there, car keys already in hand, her posture tense.

"It’s been four weeks," Amira said, stepping closer, her tone insistent now. "The specialist is waiting for your review." Amara blinked, slightly caught off guard.

"We need to make sure your eggs are healthy," Amira continued quickly. "You can’t just skip the follow-up." There was urgency in her voice.

Too much. Amara frowned faintly.

"I feel fine," she said slowly. "That’s not the point," Amira pressed, her grip tightening around the keys. "You don’t know what’s happening internally. We need to confirm everything."

Amara studied her now. Really studied her. Her sister looked... off. Tense.

Almost anxious. "Why are you so tense about it?" Amara asked softly.

The question landed. Amira hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second.

Then she forced a small, tight smile. "I’m not tense," she said quickly. "I just want to make sure everything is okay. I want to see you happy, and I know a baby will make you happy."

But her eyes betrayed her. Because this wasn’t a concern. This was something else. Something closer to fear. And for the first time. Amara felt it too.

Amara paused, adjusting the sleeve of her silk blazer. She looked at her twin with a calm, steady gaze. "Thank you, Amira, but I’ve changed my mind. There’s no need. I feel better than I ever have. Julian loves me with or without a child, and... we’re handling things our way now. Tell the doctor thank you, but I’m done with that clinic."

"Amara—"

"Let it be, sister," Amara replied, not stopping this time. Her tone wasn’t sharp. But it was firm. Final. Amira stood there, the keys still in her hand, watching her sister walk away, calm, steady, untouched by the urgency that was slowly unraveling her.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Then her fingers tightened around her phone. What was she supposed to tell him now?

—

Across town, Sebastian was pacing. The glass walls of his office reflected his movement over and over again, restless, controlled energy threatening to break through. On his desk sat the ivory rattle.

Still. Mocking. A symbol of something that should already be secured... but wasn’t. His jaw tightened as his phone buzzed. Amira. He answered immediately.

"Well?" he demanded. There was no greeting. No patience. On the other end, Amira hesitated before speaking.

"She refused," she said. Silence. Then.. "She refused?" Sebastian repeated, his voice dropping dangerously quiet. He stopped pacing.

Completely. "After everything we did?" he continued, the calm in his tone far more unsettling than anger. "If she’s resumed intimacy with Julian, the timeline gets blurred, Amira." His hand curled slightly at his side.

"I need to know," he said, sharper now. "Is she carrying my legacy... or his?" Amira pulled the phone away slightly, her brows knitting in confusion and irritation. "What are you even talking about?" she snapped. "What timeline?"