Chapter 290 The Treatment Plan

Chapter 290: Chapter 290 The Treatment Plan

Emilia’s POV

Once Dr. Vogel finished every test, all I could do was wait. My palms were damp, my knee was bouncing, and I kept telling myself to breathe. I wanted the results now, this second. And at the same time I dreaded them like nothing else. It’s a strange kind of torture, wanting and fearing the same thing.

An hour later the nurse called us in. Mila took my hand and squeezed it so hard it almost hurt. I glanced at her and realized she was more nervous than I was. She just hid it better.

I understood why. In a pack like Silver Moon, an heir wasn’t a wish, it was an expectation. A bloodline to carry. All her talk about "it doesn’t matter, sweetheart" had been for my sake, to take the weight off my chest. But we both knew the truth sat there anyway.

"Vogel," Mila said, and her voice cracked halfway through. "Just tell us. Can Emilia have children or not?"

Dr. Vogel gestured at the two chairs by her desk. "Sit down first, both of you."

We sat. I leaned forward, listening like my life depended on it.

"Based on the five main tests," she began, "Emilia does not have primary infertility. But that doesn’t mean everything is fine either."

Mila and I exchanged a look. Good news dressed up as bad news, or the other way around. I couldn’t tell.

"The issue," Dr. Vogel went on, "is that your uterus is underdeveloped. Slightly smaller than it should be for a woman your age."

"Underdeveloped?" Mila frowned. "The two clinics back home told her it was primary infertility. Permanent."

"They may have been quick to write her off. Primary infertility, yes, there’s very little we can do. But an underdeveloped uterus is another matter entirely. Unless there’s a genuine congenital defect, most patients respond well to treatment."

Mila’s hand came down flat on the desk. "So those idiots lied to Emilia’s face. Wait until I get home. They’ll wish they’d never opened."

"Mila." Dr. Vogel’s tone was calm. "They likely said it to cover themselves. Less liability that way."

"Why would they need to cover anything?"

"Because we still have to confirm the cause. If it’s a developmental disorder, then technically their diagnosis wasn’t wrong."

Mila turned to me, then back to her friend. "Does Emilia have a disorder?"

"I can’t say yet. We’ll only know once treatment begins and we see how her body responds."

"And the treatment?" I asked.

"First we identify what caused the underdevelopment. Then we stimulate ovulation with injections to encourage the uterus to grow. You’ll come back in a month. If it’s clearly responding, we can rule out a disorder. From there, with medication, you could conceive within two months."

"Two months," Mila breathed. And then, I swear, this dignified Luna of the Silver Moon Pack practically bounced out of her chair like a teenager. "Did you hear that, Emilia? Two months!"

I gave her a small smile. Then I asked the question she clearly didn’t want to hear. "And if the uterus doesn’t grow, even with the medication?"

That landed. Mila sank back down, all the joy draining out of her face. She’d only let herself imagine the good ending.

"Then we prepare for the worst," Dr. Vogel said gently.

"The worst?" Mila’s voice climbed. "Even you can’t fix it? Vogel, you were my last hope."

"Mila, breathe. Give me one month. I’ll do everything I can for her, you have my word."

I reached over and took Mila’s hand this time. "Mom, it’s okay. Honestly, this is more than I expected. Let’s do the treatment and trust Dr. Vogel."

Mila nodded slowly, then squeezed my fingers. "Thank you, Vogel. Truly."

"She’s fighting for us," Eve murmured somewhere deep in my chest, quiet and warm. "So we fight too."

We stayed in Zurich six more days before flying home. The moment we landed, I locked every last pill Dr. Vogel had given me inside a small safe with a code only I knew. If Sebastian ever found them, he’d have every question I couldn’t answer.

He knew I was coming back, and apparently that was reason enough to show up at the airport two hours early. I spotted him from across the arrivals hall, a ridiculous bouquet in one hand, that impossible face of his scanning the crowd. When his eyes found mine, something in my chest went soft.

I walked faster.

He opened his arms and I dropped straight into them, and we held on like it had been a year instead of a week.

"Excuse me," Mila said dryly. "Only Emilia gets flowers? Where’s mine?"

She knew perfectly well he’d only brought one bouquet. She just enjoyed watching him squirm.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and took her suitcase. "What’s this? Are you jealous of your own daughter-in-law?"

"They say a man forgets his mother the day he takes a mate. And here’s the proof, standing right in front of me."

I laughed and pressed the flowers into Mila’s hands. "Here. Pretend your son bought them for you."

"Absolutely not. I have my pride." She lifted her chin and marched off toward the doors.

Sebastian and I looked at each other and grinned, then trailed after her like two scolded pups.

The second we stepped through the front door, Tiffany’s jaw dropped. "Okay, how? How did you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, genuinely lost.

"Get my mother home in one week without a single meltdown? That’s black magic. Teach me."

Sebastian leaned down near my ear. "See? I told you what my mother’s like."

"Stop," I whispered back. "She’s lovely."

"I didn’t do anything," I told Tiffany. "She just missed all of you."

"Ugh." Tiffany clutched her chest and staggered. "Say something that sweet again and I’m moving out. Goosebumps everywhere."

The whole house cracked up. I’d walked in with a knot in my stomach, but watching Tiffany dramatize her way across the living room, I felt some of it loosen. She was still bruised over the whole Fynn situation, anyone could see that, but she’d stopped drowning in it. She’d finally accepted he didn’t feel the same. And she was healing, which was more than I could say for myself some days.

That night, fresh out of a hot shower, I barely had time to towel my hair before a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind.

Sebastian’s mouth found the curve of my neck and bit down, slow and deliberate.