Page 13 of The Billionaire's Baby Betrayal

Andrés’ thoughts were suddenly far away, and he didn’t hear the click of the door as it closed behind Eleanor.

When he met Lily, he was a Harvard student on a soccer scholarship and studying finance. She was in the undergraduate music program, but they met during their sophomore year off-campus at a student hangout where she sang and played acoustic guitar. Andrés fell in love with her clear, passionate voice before he saw how beautiful she was. Someone once compared her to Snow White, with her delicate skin as white as snow, black hair, and brown eyes. One of the guys he hung out with introduced them after she sang two songs and left the small stage to join their group.

From that night until they graduated, Andrés and Lily were inseparable. Andrés was set on a postgraduate degree from the London School of Business and Finance, so Lily decided to get a job teaching music while considering where to do her postgraduate study.

Two weeks after graduation, they were on their way to London to find a place to rent and a job for Lily, and spend the summer getting familiar with the city. They found an apartment central to the London School, which they rented from a proper English matron, Miss Eleanor Chambers, for a reasonable amount. Miss Chambers inherited her large home and had converted what used to be the third-floor servants’ lodging into a two-bedroom apartment with modern appliances and plenty of room. Andrés and Lily felt lucky to find such space in the city, and they both adored their landlady.

London had been home for seven months when Lily told Andrés she was pregnant. While it was a surprise, they both embraced the idea. The baby would be born after Andrés’ first year and during Lily’s summer break from her job teaching music at the local primary school. He was raised to be a gentleman, so Andrés asked Lily to marry him. She, of course, said yes, and they had a simple ceremony at a quaint wedding chapel with Miss Chambers as a witness. They knew they would be in London for at least another year after the baby was born, so Lily transformed the second bedroom into a nursery. Miss Chambers presented them with a complete layette and informed her tenants that she could be available for babysitting.

The late July day Lily went into labor was sunny and hot. Andrés left a note for Eleanor—she had insisted they cease referring to her by her surname. Lily was assigned a room at the hospital, and in between the contractions, she complained of a headache. She couldn’t be given anything, so her anxious, loving husband sat by her side to massage her head, keep a warm pack on her forehead, and hold her hand. By the time Lily was ready to be taken to the delivery room, Eleanor had arrived and assured the soon-to-be parents she would be there if needed. Only thirty minutes later, a nurse came to her and asked if she would please follow her. Eleanor was led to a room next to the nursery and knew there had been a catastrophe the minute she saw Andrés.

He was sitting in a rocking chair and holding a fussy baby. He looked up at her with glazed-over eyes.

“She’s dead. Our baby boy is alive, but she’s dead.” His gaze returned to his son.

Eleanor looked at the nurse, who nodded her head. “I’ll be in the nursery,” she said softly, and left the room.

Eleanor was stunned. She wasn’t one to show emotion, but knowing that lovely young woman would not be in her son’s life made a rush of tears fall from her eyes. She fumbled for a handkerchief in her handbag and quickly wiped her face; she didn’t want Andrés to see her upset. She pulled a straight-back chair next to the rocker.

“Andrés, may I hold your son?”

“He won’t know his mother,” he monotoned as he put the child in Eleanor’s arms.

“Of course he will. You will tell him stories about Lily and not let him forget how much she loved him and couldn’t wait to be his mother.” The baby stopped fussing and was staring at her with the brown eyes of both his mother and father. Eleanor hugged him close to her.

Andrés was hunched over in the rocker, and Eleanor could see the front of his shirt was getting wet from his tears. The door opened, and a doctor, still in his scrubs, came in, followed by the nurse. He introduced himself to Eleanor and sat next to Andrés.

“Mr. Olivera, your wife…”

“Lily,” interrupted Andrés, straightened to listen and unashamed of his tear-stained face.

“Yes, Lily. I apologize that we had to get you out of the delivery room. We needed to get to Lily and the baby the minute she went into stress. She suffered a stroke during labor, and we delivered the baby by Caesarian section. The young lad is healthy and quite handsome, I must say.”

“He looks like his mother.”

Eleanor was confused about a young, healthy woman like Lily having a stroke. “Doctor, I’m sorry to question you, but I’m sure Mr. Olivera would like to know why his wife had a stroke at her age.”

Andrés had been too much in anguish to have asked the question, and he silently thanked Eleanor and turned to the doctor.

“Of course, I can give you a possible explanation, Mr. Olivera. The labor nurse mentioned Lily complained of a headache in the labor room. While headaches are not uncommon during labor, my thought is that she might have had an aneurysm that burst under the strain of labor once in the delivery room. Her history doesn’t indicate blood pressure problems, but we will know more after the autopsy.”

“I see,” whispered Andrés. He reached to take his son from Eleanor and spoke to him. “Tu madre te quiere, Luis Alexander.”

Eleanor knew enough Spanish to recognize that Andrés told his son his mother loved him. And he gave him the name Lily had wanted. She watched, as much in pride as in sorrow, as Andrés transformed from a grieving husband to a caring father. He stood and faced the doctor.

“Thank you, doctor. I await the final word on why my son is without his mother.” He then turned toward the nurse. “I expect Luis will need feeding soon and get the best care in your nursery until it’s time for me to take him home.” Andrés placed the baby in her outstretched arms.

“Most certainly, Mr. Olivera,” she assured him and left the room.

The doctor laid a comforting hand on Andrés’ shoulder. “We are all deeply sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

There was silence after the doctor closed the door behind him. Andrés sat once again and rubbed his face. He met Eleanor’s eyes and grasped her hands in his.

“I’m glad you are here, Eleanor. You’re correct that Luis will know Lily through my memories. And thank you for your presence of mind to question the doctor about… well, about what happened.”

Eleanor swallowed the lump in her throat. “Lily would expect nothing less of me.”

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