Billionaire Boss Went On A Blind Date — Unaware He Was The One Who Left Her 10 Years Ago

Meeting Abigail

The emergency room at Children’s Hospital pulsed with controlled chaos: worried parents, efficient medical staff, and the occasional cry of a child. Nathan followed Audrey through the automatic doors, feeling strangely disconnected from reality.

He said as they approached the registration desk, suddenly uncertain of his place in this unfolding situation. “I’ll wait here,”

“Unless you want me to—”

Audrey agreed, her focus already shifting to the crisis at hand. “No, this is better,”

“I’ll come find you once I know what’s happening.”

Nathan nodded, watching as she approached the desk with the practiced efficiency of a mother. He found a seat in the waiting area, conspicuously overdressed in his Tom Ford suit among the weary parents.

The surreality of the moment wasn’t lost on him. Twelve hours ago, his biggest concern had been finalizing the Mitchell merger.

Now he sat in a pediatric emergency room waiting for news about a daughter he hadn’t known existed this morning. Across the room, a father paced with an infant on his shoulder, murmuring soothing nonsense.

The simple everyday intimacy of the gesture made Nathan’s chest tighten. He felt a sudden acute awareness of all he had missed, all the moments of ordinary parenthood that had continued without him.

His phone remained powered off in his pocket, a tangible reminder of the choice he’d made tonight. By now, the board would be in full crisis mode.

The Mitchell merger, his legacy project, was likely collapsing in his absence. Shareholders would demand accountability; the business press would speculate about his sudden disappearance.

For the first time in his career, Nathan found he didn’t care. Nearly 40 minutes passed before Audrey returned, her expression slightly less tense than before.

“They’ve admitted her for IV antibiotics and fluids. The fever’s starting to respond, but they want to monitor her overnight.”

Relief washed through him. “That’s good news, right?”

Audrey confirmed, sinking into the chair beside him. “Better than when we arrived,”

She looked exhausted, the composed woman from dinner replaced by a worried mother running on adrenaline and fear. “They’re running more tests to identify what’s causing the infection.”

Nathan asked, the need to take action nearly overwhelming. “What can I do?”

Audrey considered him for a long moment. “They’re settling her in a room now. Once she’s comfortable, if you want to meet her—I told her you’re here.”

The simple statement sent Nathan’s heart racing. “You did? What did she say?”

A tired smile briefly lifted the corners of Audrey’s mouth. “She asked if you were wearing a suit.”

Nathan observed, glancing down at his formal attire with a self-deprecating grimace. “Apparently, every picture she’s seen of you has been from business magazines. And I didn’t disappoint,”

“She also asked if you were angry about not knowing about her.”

The question pierced him. “What did you tell her?”

“The truth. That you just found out, that you weren’t angry at her, and that you wanted to meet her if she felt up to it.”

Audrey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture he remembered from years ago. “She said yes.”

A nurse appeared at the waiting room entrance. “Miss Campbell? Abigail’s room is ready. You can come back now.”

Audrey stood, then looked at Nathan with a question in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he rose to follow her.

The walk through the hospital corridors seemed both endless and too brief. He had barely enough time to process the magnitude of what was about to happen.

He said suddenly as they approached the room. “Wait,”

“I should know—what does she call me when she talks about me?”

Audrey replied softly. “Just ‘my dad’,”

“Or ‘my father’ when she’s being formal. But she’s never met you, so she might be more comfortable using your name at first.”

Nathan nodded, trying to swallow past the tightness in his throat. “Anything else I should know before we go in?”

Audrey considered the question seriously. “She’s feeling pretty awful right now, so don’t expect too much conversation.”

“And she might fall asleep; the medications make her drowsy.”

She paused, then added: “She has your smile, just so you’re prepared.”

With that final piece of information settling like a weight in his chest, Nathan followed Audrey into the hospital room. The first thing he noticed was how small she looked in the standard hospital bed.

Her honey blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, framing a face flushed with fever. An IV line snaked from her arm to a pump beside the bed.

Abigail Campbell was immediately, unmistakably his daughter. The shape of her eyes and the thoughtful furrow between her brows reflected the face he saw in the mirror each morning.

Audrey said, moving to the bedside and brushing hair from Abigail’s forehead. “Hey, sweetheart,”

“How are you feeling now?”

Abigail replied, her voice smaller and more subdued than Nathan had imagined. “Better,”

“The nurse says my temperature is down to 101.”

Audrey smiled, though Nathan could see the lingering worry in her eyes. “That’s good news. Abby, there’s someone here who wanted to meet you.”

She turned slightly, gesturing toward where Nathan stood frozen in the doorway. “This is Nathan Reed.”

Abigail’s eyes—his eyes—met his with a directness that was startlingly adult. “You’re my father,”

Nathan managed, finding his voice. “Yes,”

“I am.”

He approached the bed slowly, hyper-aware of both Audrey’s watchful gaze and the momentous nature of this first meeting. Up close, the resemblance between them was even more pronounced.

Abigail continued, studying him with analytical intensity. “Mom says you didn’t know about me until tonight.”

Nathan confirmed, settling carefully into the chair beside her bed. “That’s right,”

“If I had known, I would have been there. I want you to understand that.”

Abigail considered this with a slight tilt of her head. “Would you really? Mom says,”

“‘You’re very busy being important’.”

The innocent repetition of Audrey’s diplomatic explanation struck him like a physical blow. He glanced at Audrey, who had the grace to look slightly abashed.

He acknowledged, turning back to his daughter. “I am busy,”

“But never too busy for you. Not anymore.”

Skepticism flickered across her young face. “Your company is having an emergency tonight. Mom got a text about it at dinner.”

Surprise momentarily silenced him. Of course, Charlotte would have kept Abigail informed about her setup attempt.

The realization that his daughter had been aware of the dinner added yet another layer to the evening’s revelations. Nathan said finally, echoing the words he’d spoken to his assistant. “Some things are more important than work,”

“You’re more important.”

Abigail studied him for a long moment, then asked with the abrupt subject change characteristic of children: “Do you really have a helicopter?”

The unexpected question startled a laugh from him. “I do, actually. For business travel.”

She declared, then immediately looked to Audrey as if checking whether she’d overstepped. “I want to ride in it someday.”

Audrey said carefully. “Maybe when you’re feeling better,”

“We can discuss appropriate father-daughter activities.”

The phrase ‘father-daughter activities’ sent a jolt of both elation and fear through Nathan. Building a relationship with this child was daunting in its complexity.

He said softly, then added with more confidence: “I’d like that,”

“In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Abigail’s eyelids were growing heavy; the medication and her illness were clearly taking a toll. She asked suddenly, her voice drowsy. “Are you going to disappear again?”

Nathan promised, the word carrying the weight of absolute conviction. “No,”

“I’m not going anywhere, Abigail. I’ve missed too much already.”

Satisfied with this answer, she allowed her eyes to close. Within minutes, her breathing had deepened into sleep.