Chapter 128: It’s on me
"Your wife," Sebastian continued, almost conversationally, "is pregnant. She’s distressed. Probably terrified out of her mind, trying to make sense of how this even happened..."
He tilted his head slightly, studying Julian. "And instead of holding her... instead of grounding her..." His smile sharpened.
"You demanded a DNA test." The words landed harder this time. Slower. Deliberate.
"Right there. In front of the doctor. The nurses." He let out a low chuckle. "Like she’s some kind of liar who’s been juggling her ex and her husband and just couldn’t keep track of who got her pregnant."
Julian’s fists clenched. "Stop." But Sebastian didn’t.
"If you know Amara at all," he went on, voice quieter now, but more cutting, "you know exactly where her mind is right now. Spinning. Breaking. Wondering how everything she thought was certain just... isn’t."
A pause. Then, softer... "And you just confirmed her worst fear." Julian swallowed hard because the worst part wasn’t Sebastian saying it.
The worst part was. He was right. "Perfect man," Sebastian added with a short, humorless laugh. That did it. Julian’s gaze snapped up, sharp and burning.
For a moment, it looked like he might actually swing at him. But he didn’t. Because anger... wasn’t the strongest thing he felt right now. Regret was.
And it was heavier. Without another word, Julian turned away. Sebastian didn’t stop him this time. Didn’t need to.
Julian walked to his car, each step faster than the last, his mind already racing ahead, to her, to where she could be going, to what he needed to say when he found her. If he found her.
He got into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel tightly before starting the engine. Then he drove.
Not away. But after her. Meanwhile. Inside the taxi, Amara sat quietly by the window. The city blurred past her in streaks of light and motion, but she wasn’t really seeing any of it.
Her reflection stared back at her in the glass. Calm. Too calm.
Her hand rested gently over her stomach again, fingers curling slightly as if grounding herself in the only truth that didn’t feel uncertain.
A child. Her child. No matter what. Her lips parted slightly as she took a slow breath. Behind her, everything was unraveling. But ahead... Ahead was unknown.
And for the first time in a long time. That didn’t scare her as much as it should have.
–
At home, the silence wasn’t calm. It was restless. Amira paced the length of the hall, her steps quick, uneven, like she was trying to outrun her own thoughts. Every few seconds, she would glance toward the door, then away again, her fingers twisting together.
Leo stood a few feet away, watching her quietly. He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t try to calm her. There were some storms you just had to let pass. Then. The door opened. Softly. Amara stepped in.
Her presence didn’t fill the room the way it usually did. No warmth. No quiet strength that held everything together.
Just... stillness.
Her footsteps were light, almost careful, as if she didn’t want to disturb anything, even the air. Amira saw her.
"Amara—" Relief flooded her face instantly. She rushed forward without thinking, her arms already opening as she reached her sister and wrapped them around her tightly.
"I’ve been—" But Amara didn’t hug her back. She stood there. Still. Unmoving. And slowly... gently... she pulled away. That was when Amira’s words died in her throat. Amara looked at her. Really looked.
Her face was composed, but it wasn’t calm. It was the kind of control that came from holding too much in for too long. Her eyes shimmered slightly, like tears were waiting, but refusing to fall.
Her hand lifted. Softly. She brushed her fingers through Amira’s short red hair, a familiar gesture, tender, almost protective.
It made Amira’s chest tighten. "Amara... are you okay?" she asked quietly. Amara’s lips parted, then pressed together again before she spoke.
"I’m only going to ask once," she said, her voice low but steady. "And whatever you tell me... I’ll believe you." Something in her tone made the room feel smaller. Heavier.
Amira instinctively took a small step back. Nervous. "W-what do you mean?" Amara held her gaze. Unblinking.
"Dear sister..." she began softly, and somehow that made it worse. "Did you know... that the hospital you took me to..."
A pause. "...Seb goes there too?" Amira’s heart skipped. Just for a second. But it was enough.
Her mind raced instantly, words already forming, the perfect, easy lie. It was a coincidence. I didn’t know. You’re overthinking it. And the worst part?
It wouldn’t even be entirely false. She hadn’t known he would be there that day. She could say it. She should say it. But...
"Wait." Amara’s voice cut through her thoughts. Quiet. Sharp. "Think before you answer, sister."
Amira froze. Amara tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable now.
"Or maybe..." she continued, softer, but more precise. "I should be asking... did Seb ask you to bring me there?"
Silence. Heavy. Unforgiving. Amira’s throat went dry.
It felt like being a child again, standing in front of Amara after breaking something, knowing she already knew the truth. Because Amara always knew. She always had.
Amira tried to steady herself, squaring her shoulders, forcing her voice to stay calm.
"I—" But the words didn’t come out right. They never did when she lied to Amara.
And in that moment... She realized it was already too late. Amara saw it. In her eyes. In the hesitation. In the way her voice failed her. A quiet breath left Amara’s lips. Not angry. Not loud.
Just... disappointed. "Of course he did," she murmured. It wasn’t a question. It was acceptance. Slowly, she nodded to herself, like pieces were finally falling into place.
"Now it makes sense." Amira’s chest tightened. "Amara, I..."
"Thank you." The words stopped her. Amara stepped back, creating distance between them, physical, but also something deeper.
"Thank you for failing me... once again." Each word landed gently.
And somehow, that made it hurt more. "This time," Amara added, her voice thinning just slightly, "it’s on me. Because I let you. I trusted you again." Amira shook her head quickly, panic rising. "No, it’s not like that, I didn’t..."