The Billionaire’s Regret After His Daughter Died

Elara’s POV

When my daughter was lying in the hospital suffering from heart disease, my husband was grandly picking up his ex-girlfriend at the airport.

I looked at the photo on my phone, a handsome man and a beautiful woman, truly a perfect match. They standing together actually look like a real couple. And I am just futilely holding the title of Mrs. Blackwood. Six years have passed, it's time for this loveless marriage to end.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?"

Lily's voice was barely a whisper. Her usually bright eyes were dim with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed her pale face.

"Daddy is working, sweetheart," I said, forcing a smile as I sat beside her bed. "He'll be here soon."

The lie came easily now. I'd been telling variations of it for weeks.

Lily had been calling for her father since she woke up this morning. Her small voice, growing weaker each time: "Daddy... I want Daddy..."

It broke my heart every single time.

Damien, my husband, had never taken Lily to an amusement park, barely held her in his arms since she was a baby.

Because of his resentment toward me - toward this marriage his grandmother had forced upon him - he kept his distance from our daughter too.

But Lily was innocent in all of this.

She didn't deserve to pay for the circumstances of her parents' loveless union.

"Mommy, will you call Daddy again? I want to tell him about my dream."

I squeezed her tiny hand. "What did you dream about, sweetheart?"

"Mickey Mouse! He was wearing a big yellow hat, and he wanted to be my friend." Her eyes lit up with the first genuine smile I'd seen in days. "Daddy promised to take me to Disneyland when I get better. Do you think Mickey will remember me?"

My chest tightened. "Of course he will, baby. Mickey Mouse never forgets his special friends."

"Jenny at school said her daddy took her on the teacup ride five times. Do you think Daddy would go on it with me? Even if it makes him dizzy?"

"I'm sure he would ride anything you wanted."

Lily's eyelids grew heavy. "Will you ask him? When he comes?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I'll ask him."

But first, I had to reach him.

I stepped into the hallway and pulled out my phone. Twelve missed calls to Damien. All unanswered.

I dialed again, my hands trembling slightly.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Finally, someone picked up.

"Blackwood Enterprises, Marcus speaking."

Relief flooded through me. "Marcus, thank God. It's Elara. I need to speak with Damien immediately. It's urgent."

"I understand, Mrs. Blackwood, but his instructions were explicit. I can take a message and ensure he receives it the moment his meeting is over."

My relief turned to frustration. "This is about Lily. She's been asking for him all morning. She's getting weaker—"

"I can certainly take a message and make sure he gets it as soon as his meeting concludes."

A message. My daughter was dying, and I was supposed to leave a message.

"Please just tell him that Lily needs him. That I need him to call me back."

"Of course, Mrs. Blackwood. I'll make sure he gets the message immediately."

I hung up and stared at my phone. What meeting could possibly be more important than this?

My phone buzzed with a text from my friend Sarah: OMG girl, have you seen the news? Your husband is trending!

She'd attached a link to an entertainment website. My blood turned to ice as I read the headline: "Billionaire CEO Damien Blackwood's Airport Reunion - Romance Rekindled?"

The photos loaded slowly, each one feeling like a knife to my chest.

Damien stood at the international arrivals gate, looking devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored suit. His dark hair was styled to perfection, his piercing gray eyes focused entirely on the woman beside him.

Isabella Reed.

Even after six years, I recognized her immediately. She was still breathtakingly beautiful, with platinum blonde hair that seemed to glow under the airport lights. Her designer dress hugged her perfect figure. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover.

In the photos, Damien's arms were wrapped around her, pulling her close. They were both smiling - genuine, radiant smiles that I hadn't seen on Damien's face in years.

They looked like lovers reuniting after a long separation.

Which, I realized with growing horror, was exactly what they were.

While I sat in a children's hospital, desperately trying to reach my husband about our dying daughter, he was playing romantic reunion with the love of his life.

Isabella Reed. The name that had haunted every day of our six-year marriage. The ghost I could never compete with.

I scrolled through more photos, each one twisting the knife deeper. Damien helping Isabella with her luggage. Damien leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Damien looking at her like she was his entire world.

The way he'd never once looked at me.

"Mrs. Blackwood?"

Dr. Harrison's voice made me jump. I quickly closed my phone, trying to compose myself.

"Doctor, please tell me you have good news."

His expression made my stomach drop. "Could we speak in my office? Privately?"

My legs felt unsteady as I followed him down the corridor. His office was small and cramped, filled with medical journals and family photos of patients who'd made it through.

"Mrs. Blackwood, I'm afraid I have some very difficult news regarding Lily's transplant."

The words seemed to echo strangely. "What kind of news?"

"The donor heart that was allocated for Lily... it's been redirected to another patient."

I stared at him, not comprehending. "Redirected? What does that mean?"

"Another hospital made a priority claim. The donor family specifically requested that the heart go to a different recipient."

"But Lily was first on the list. You promised me—" My voice cracked. "You said she was a perfect match."

Dr. Harrison looked deeply uncomfortable. "These decisions involve many complex factors. Hospital politics, donor family preferences, and sometimes..." He paused. "Sometimes... well, influence and significant financial contributions can play a role."

"Who?" I demanded. "Who was it given to?"

"I can't disclose patient information. But Mrs. Blackwood..." His voice grew gentle. "Without a suitable donor, Lily's condition is critical. We're looking at a very limited timeframe."

"How long?"

His silence stretched too long. "Days. Maybe a week or two at most. I'm so very sorry."

The room spun around me. Days. My baby had days.

I somehow made it back to Lily's room. She was sleeping peacefully, her small chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

I sat beside her bed and took her tiny hand in mine. It felt so cold, so fragile.

"Daddy will come see you soon," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I believed it anymore. "And when you're better, he'll take you to see Mickey Mouse. I promise."

Hours passed. I called Damien again and again. Every call went straight to voicemail.

Finally, I couldn't stand the hospital's suffocating atmosphere anymore. I kissed Lily's forehead and whispered, "Mommy will be back very soon, sweetheart. Sweet dreams."

The drive home was a blur of tears and growing anger.

Our mansion looked as imposing as ever in the evening light. Beautiful and cold, like everything else in my life with Damien.

I parked and walked through the front entrance. The house was eerily quiet except for the steady tick of the antique grandfather clock in the foyer.

Light spilled from Damien's study upstairs. The door was slightly ajar.

As I climbed the staircase, I heard voices.

Male voices, engaged in quiet conversation.

I should have announced myself. Should have walked right in. But something in their tone made me freeze on the stairs.

"So how are you really feeling about Isabella being back?" The voice belonged to James Morton, Damien's best friend since college.

My heart stopped.

"It's complicated, James." Damien's voice carried an emotion I rarely heard anymore. Uncertainty. Vulnerability.

"Complicated how? You two were inseparable before your grandmother forced you into this marriage. Everyone knew you were going to propose to Isabella."

"That was six years ago."

"Was it though? Because I saw those airport photos, man. The way you looked at her... it's like no time passed at all."

A pause that felt like an eternity.

"She hasn't changed," Damien said quietly. "Still beautiful. Still everything I remembered."

"And now she's divorced. Free. Back in your life." James's voice dropped. "What are you going to do about it?"

I pressed myself against the wall, barely breathing.

"I don't know what you're asking me."

"I think you do. Look, you've done your duty. You married Elara like your grandmother demanded. You've been a responsible husband for six years. But why should you spend the rest of your life trapped in a loveless marriage when the woman you actually want is finally available?"

Trapped. The word hit me like a physical blow.

"Isabella loved you six years ago, and from what I can tell, she still does. She left her husband. She came back. Don't you think that means something?"

"James..."

"I'm just saying, maybe it's time to think about what you really want. Give Elara a generous settlement, shared custody of Lily, and you could finally be with Isabella. The way it should have been from the beginning."

The silence that followed was deafening. I held my breath, my entire world hanging on Damien's next words.