Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 210: Chapter 210

"Thanks," I said, taking the towel and drying the water from my hair.
Rose poured a cup of hot water and set it on the coffee table in front of me. She said matter-of-factly, "Aiden ended up like this because of a medical malpractice incident half a month ago."
My hand froze around the cup. I looked up at Rose in disbelief. "Medical malpractice?"
"Right," Rose said. "Aiden hurt his hand, and his parents and I searched everywhere for a cure. About two months ago, I heard about a renowned traditional doctor. He confidently assured me that acupuncture might heal Aiden's hand. Hoping for the best, I persuaded him to give it a try.
"At first, the treatment worked wonders—Aiden could even perform delicate tasks with his hands. We were all overjoyed," Rose said, her voice tightening. "But then... just half a month ago, during an acupuncture session, the traditional doctor hit the wrong acupoints. Aiden passed out right there. When we rushed him to the hospital and he finally woke up... he became what he is now." As she finished, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
If I remember correctly, that was right around the time when Aiden came looking for me outside the villa.
Back then, Aiden said something cryptic to me. Later, when I wanted to follow up, I just couldn't reach him no matter how hard I tried.
Due to acupuncture malpractice, Aiden suffered neurological damage, leaving him with the mental capacity of a seven- or eight-year-old child.
Rose was consumed with guilt—she had recommended the traditional doctor, and now Aiden was like this.
My heart clenched with pain as I remembered Aiden standing in the rain, and my nose stung with unshed tears.
I pressed my lips together as painful memories flooded back. Looking at Rose, I said softly, "Rose, none of this is your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me."
I took a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed by my own helplessness.
All I could do was keep saying sorry—nothing could ever make up for this.
Rose sniffled but didn't cry. After glancing at me, she said solemnly, "Natalia, I hated you after what happened to Aiden. But now I understand—it was his choice."
"Rose..." My voice came out hoarse.
"Now, I don't hate you anymore, Natalia, but I can't bring myself to forgive you either," Rose said honestly. "Today, when I saw that even Aiden couldn't recognize you, I felt heartbroken... yet, at the same time, strangely relieved." She gave a self-deprecating smile. "It's all in the past now. No matter what happens to him, I'll always stay by his side. I just need to follow my heart."
She had let it go, but my heart was in turmoil—a whirlwind of emotions.
Guilt, regret, sorrow, anguish—a whirlwind of emotions churned within me.
I wanted to say something—to comfort or encourage Rose—but the words caught in my throat.
I choked on my words, and in the end, silence prevailed.
The water in the bathroom went quiet, and I caught the faint sound of Aiden's carefree, childlike laughter.
"You should go now," Rose said, glancing toward the bathroom.
I nodded. As I stood up, I forced myself to say, "Rose, if there's ever anything I can do for you..."
"No need." Rose cut me off, grabbing a thick coat as she headed toward the bathroom.
I hung my head—it was clear Rose didn't want Aiden to see me when he came out.
I couldn't face her any longer. Turning away, I hurried out of her apartment.
On the way home, my mind was in turmoil—I ran several red lights in a row without even realizing it.
It was late at night when I got home. Benedict was already fast asleep.
The nanny told me, "Benedict thought you'd be coming home with Shirely tonight. He's been waiting for you both all evening..."
It hit me then—I'd broken my promise to Benedict before leaving.
"I'll explain to Benedict myself tomorrow," I said.
The nanny nodded and said to me, "Natalia, Benedict is at the age for kindergarten now. Lately, he's been wanting more social interaction—he's at that curious stage when kids want to explore the world and meet new friends. I suggest letting him play with children his own age."
She was professionally trained, deeply understood child psychology, and always took excellent care of Benedict.
"I appreciate your advice," I said. "Thank you, I'll give it serious consideration."
Early the next morning, after I personally fed Benedict his breakfast, I made a video call to Shirley.
Benedict was thrilled to see his grandma. They chatted affectionately for a good half hour.
Finally, after Shirley personally promised Benedict she would visit him once she finished her work, the little boy finally agreed to end the call.
Keeping the nanny's advice in mind, that afternoon I took Benedict to check out the kindergarten in our gated community.
The kindergarten was compact, but since enrollment was limited exclusively to residents of our gated community, it boasted exceptional faculty.
"Hello, Mrs. Madden." To my surprise, the kindergarten principal recognized me. She greeted me warmly, introduced the kindergarten's curriculum, and invited Benedict and me to spend an afternoon experiencing it together.
The afternoon flew by in a blink. After school, Benedict excitedly told me he made a new best friend.
"Mommy, can I come back here tomorrow?" Benedict asked me.
"Sure!" I ruffled his hair, and Benedict was so happy he started bouncing with excitement.
That evening, I told Quinn about Benedict starting kindergarten.
Quinn didn't object. Then he added, "Next weekend, let's take Benedict back to the Madden family estate for dinner."
"Is next weekend a special occasion?" I checked the calendar, but nothing came to mind.
Quinn told me, "Lindsey is coming back from abroad next weekend."
I suddenly thought of someone and asked Quinn curiously, "Will Georgia be coming back too?"
It had been ages since I last heard from Georgia. Now that Lindsey was back, I couldn't help but wonder—what move Georgia would make next.
Quinn shook his head. "I'm not sure either, but according to Drake, he's already let Georgia know."
In the following days, I personally took Benedict to and from kindergarten every day.
Benedict thoroughly enjoyed kindergarten, and every day when he came home, he'd excitedly chatter to me about his day.
That day, I got a call from York. He asked, "Are you free now?"
"What is it?" I asked him.
"If you're free, come by Maple Media. I'd like to discuss company matters with you," York told me.
Maple Media wasn't doing well. Despite York's best efforts to turn things around, the company was still in crisis. "He probably needs my help," I thought, and immediately agreed.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived at Maple Media's office building.
I walked into the CEO's office at Maple Media. York was buried in paperwork, dressed in a crisp white shirt. Even in such a simple outfit, he carried himself with an effortless, aristocratic elegance.
Hearing my voice, he looked up and met my gaze with a deep, lingering glance. Cutting straight to the point, he said, "Natalia, I want you to join Maple Media."