How to Train Your Ex-Billionaire novel Chapter 49

Winifred rushed to her side. "Delia, you're awake! How are you feeling?"

"Okay." Delia turned her head. "My mommy…"

"Delia!" Winifred cut her off, her voice a little too loud. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Luckily, Delia said, "Yes."

"Okay, I'll take you."

Winifred took the IV stand in one hand and helped Delia out of bed with the other.

Delia saw Yvan and grinned. "You're still here."

"Of course. I was waiting for you to wake up." Yvan smiled and gently ruffled her hair. "How are you feeling now? Better?"

Winifred's heart was in her throat, terrified that Delia would say something to give her away.

Before Delia could reply, she quickly tugged her along. "Delia, we can talk later. Let's hurry to the bathroom."

"Okay, bye-bye!"

Delia waved to Yvan and followed Winifred to the restroom.

"Auntie, where's my mommy?" Delia asked.

"Your mommy is still in surgery with a patient. She'll be a little late. I'll take you home soon," Winifred explained, then knelt down to face her. "Delia, I need to tell you something. When we go back out there, I don't want you to call me 'Auntie.'"

"If I don't call you Auntie, what should I call you?" Delia asked.

"You don't have to call me anything. Just talk to me if you want to say something. But please, don't call me Auntie."

"Why?" Delia looked at her curiously.

"Because we're playing a game. And the rule of the game is, if you call me Auntie, I lose," Winifred explained. "So you can't call me Auntie, okay?"

"Okay." Delia looked a little confused, but she nodded anyway. "Don't worry, I won't call you that."

When they returned, Delia's IV drip was almost finished.

Nancy was still in surgery, so Winifred had the nurse remove the needle, ready to take Delia home.

She sent a quick text to Nancy, then lifted Delia into her arms. "Delia, let's go home."

"Okay," Delia agreed obediently.

It felt uncomfortably like they were a family of three.

"Delia, do you like me?" Yvan asked, taking her hand with a smile.

"Yes!" Delia launched herself into his arms.

A child's world was simple. He was handsome and gentle with her, so of course she liked him.

Yvan softly stroked Delia's hair. "Then I'll take you to play again soon, okay? I have a little boy at home around your age. You two could be friends."

Winifred froze. A little boy? Is he married?

She dug her nails into her palm, trying to ground herself with the sharp sting.

It had been seven years. It was only natural that he'd be married.

Delia, blinking her big eyes, asked the question for her. "Is he your little boy?"

"No," Yvan said. "He's my sister's son."

His sister's son. Winifred unconsciously relaxed, immediately ashamed of her reaction.