Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227

Elara

I stared at him. He was gripping the doorframe so hard his knuckles were white, and there was something desperate in his eyes. He was pushing me away before he could pull me back. And somehow, that small gesture meant more than any of his declarations.

“Okay,” I said softly. I’ll wait for my mother in the lobby.”

He nodded, not looking at me, and stepped aside. I wheeled through the doorway, aware of how close we were in the narrow space. For a moment, I thought

he might reach out. But he kept himself still, and then I was past him, moving toward the elevators.

I didn’t look back.

The lobby was nearly empty. Just a security guard and a janitor mopping floors. I positioned my wheelchair near the automatic doors and pulled out my

phone.

My mother arrived exactly thirty minutes later, bursting through the doors with her coat half–buttoned and her hair mussed from sleep. When she saw me,

her face crumpled.

“Elara,” she breathed, rushing over to kneel beside me. Her hands fluttered over me, checking for injuries. “Are you okay? Did that woman-

“I’m fine, Mamá. I just want to go home.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes, and started to stand. But a voice from across the lobby stopped us.

“Mrs. Vance.”

Julian stood near the elevators. He’d changed his shirt–the bloodstained one was gone–and combed his hair, but there was a bruise forming on his jaw and a cut at the corner of his mouth.

My mother went rigid. She stood slowly, positioning herself between me and Julian.

‘Mr. Vane. Her voice was cold in a way I’d never heard. “I’m asking you–please, stay away from my daughter. Every time she’s with your family, something

terrible happens to her.”

Julian’s face flickered. “Mrs. Vance, I would never hurt her. I love-

“Love?” My mother’s voice rose. “You call this love? She’s in a wheelchair because of your fiancée!”

‘Ex–fiancée. I broke it off. I chose-

“You chose too late.” Her accent thickened with emotion. “You chose after she almost died. After she was pushed into a pool and held underwater. After three years of being treated like a servant while you looked the other way.” She was shaking. “My daughter has done nothing but love you for years, and what has it gotten her? Trauma, Humiliation. A wheelchair.”

“Mamá,” I said quietly. “It’s okay. Let’s just go.”

But she wasn’t finished. She turned back to Julian, tears streaming down her face.

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Chapter 227

“I cleaned your family’s toilets for years. I scrubbed your floors and washed your clothes and smiled while your grandmother told me I should be grateful. I let them treat me like nothing because I thought–I thought if I was good enough, if I worked hard enough, maybe they would see my daughter deserved better. That she deserved to be treated like family.”

Her voice broke. But you never saw her as family, did you? You saw her as what? A project? A charity case? Someone to play with when you got bored?”

“No,” Julian said, real pain in his voice. “That’s not–I never thought of her that way.”

“Then how? How did you think of her when you let your sister destroy her father’s watch? When you let your cousin choke her in the hallway? When you

stood by while your fiancée tried to drown her?”

Julian had no answer. He just stood there, his face getting paler.

“Mom, please.” I reached for her hand. ‘We should go.”

She looked down at me, struggling to control herself. Finally she nodded and moved behind my wheelchair, gripping the handles so tight I heard the plastic

creak.

As we headed for the doors, I glanced back once. Julian was still standing there, watching us with such raw devastation it made my chest ache. Our eyes met for just a moment, and I saw everything–the regret, the longing, the desperate wish that things could be different.

Then the doors slid open, cold air rushed in, and I turned forward and didn’t look back again.

My mother rented a car for work. The car was old, the heat sputtering as we pulled out of the parking lot. She drove in silence for several blocks, jaw clenched, hands gripping the wheel.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

“Mamá, stop.” I touched her arm. “You were perfect. You said everything I’ve wanted to say for years.”

She glanced at me, surprised. “I was so angry. When you called and said you were in the hospital again, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the times they’ve hurt you. All the times I stood by and let it happen because I was too afraid of losing my job.

‘You’re not afraid anymore?”

She laughed, sharp and bitter. “What’s the point? They’ve already taken everything. Our dignity, our peace, nearly your life. What else is there to lose?”

I didn’t answer. We were heading away from Manhattan now, crossing into Queens, and I could feel the knot in my chest loosening with every mile.

‘He really broke off his engagement?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

‘For you?”

“So he says.”

Silence. And you said no.”

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Chapter 227

I did.”

“Why?”

The question was simple. The answer wasn’t. I thought about the hesitation in Julian’s eyes, the years of being second choice, the way loving him had slowly

eroded me until I didn’t recognize myself. But it was too much, too complicated, and I was too tired.

‘Because I deserve better,‘ I said. ‘I deserve someone who doesn’t have to be forced to choose me. Someone who sees me and wants me, not because I’m

convenient or useful, but because I’m me.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. ‘Yes. Si, mija. You do deserve better. You deserve everything.”

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When we pulled up outside the garage apartment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: relief.

My mother helped me out and up the stairs. When we opened the door, the familiar smell of turpentine and old coffee greeted us. Home.

“Would you like to have a sleep?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, Mamá. I just need to sleep.”

She hesitated, then pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m proud of you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I am. You’re stronger than I ever was.”

“I learned from you. You taught me how to survive them.”

She pulled back, cupping my face. “No more surviving. From now on, we live. We don’t just survive–we live. Understand?”

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