The Billionaire’s Unexpected Proposal (Evelyn and Derek) novel Chapter 191

Chapter 191
Sandra sat on the cold, hard floor in the small holding cell. The room was dim, lit by a flickering lightbulb above her head.
Shadows stretched along the walls, but none of it mattered.
Sandra's world had collapsed.
Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, but no amount of holding could stop the shivers running through her body.
She pressed her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them, as tears spilled down her face. Her sobs echoed through the empty cell, raw and jagged, breaking the heavy silence around her.
Her mind was a storm, filled with the memory of her mother's voice- so soft, so patient, always trying to correct and guide her, but she never cared to listen.
"I'm sorry," Sandra whispered, her voice cracking. She pressed her fists against her eyes, as though trying to stop the tears, but they kept coming.
Her chest ached, and the weight of the news felt unbearable. Her mother was gone. Dead. Because of her. Because of her senseless jealousy and greed.
Now nothing else mattered. Not Derek's rejection. Not Evelyn's victory. Nothing mattered. All that was left was a gaping hole in her heart. She had lost the one person she loved the most.
"It's my fault," she choked out, shaking her head. "All my fault."
The images wouldn't leave her mind. She saw it all again. The argument. Her mother's voice pleading with her to stop. The fight or the phone. And then-the fall. The sound of her mother hitting the floor. It replayed in her head, over and over like a terrible song she couldn't escape.

Sandra grabbed the bars of the cell, leaning her forehead against the cold metal. "Why did I do it?" she cried, her voice breaking.
"Why couldn't I just listen to her?"
Her mother had warned her so many times to stop being selfish.
To stop chasing things that didn't matter. But she never cared. She wanted more- more money, more power, more control. And now it had cost her the one person who truly loved her.
"I didn't mean to hurt her, she sobbed, shaking her head. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
Her hands trembled as she clutched at her chest. Her tears fell faster now, soaking her shirt. "Please, God," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please bring her back. I'll change. I'll do better. I'll never hurt anyone again. Just... don't let her be gone."
She squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hands together, her words tumbling out in a desperate prayer. "I'll stop being greedy.
I'll stop being mean. I'll stop hurting people. Just let her live.
Please, I'll be good. I'll be good. I promise."
Sandra stayed like that, crying until her throat was raw and her eyes burned. Every part of her ached- her head, her heart, her soul. She thought of all the things she'd done wrong. Every selfish act, every cruel word, every time she ignored her mother's advice.
"If only I could take it all back," she thought bitterly.
Just as she was sinking deeper into her sorrow, the sound of footsteps approached her cell. Sandra didn't look up at first, too consumed by her grief. Then, she heard a voice.
"Sandra."
She raised her head slowly, her face streaked with tears. It was the officer who had brought her in. He stood on the other side of the bars, his expression unreadable.
The officer hesitated, then said, "Your mother... she's alive."
Sandra froze. For a moment, she thought shed misheard him.
"What?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"She's alive," the officer repeated. "We heard from the hospital. She woke up."
Sandra's breath caught, and she stared at him in disbelief. "Alive?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
The officer nodded. "Yes. The doctor said she's going to be okay."
Sandra's hands flew to her mouth as a loud sob escaped her.
Relief flooded her body, washing over her like a wave, and tears streamed down her face.
"She's alive," she cried, over and over, clutching her chest. "She's alive."
The guilt still gnawed at her, but for the first time, there was hope.
She hadn't killed her mother. She hadn't entirely destroyed everything.
She wiped her face with trembling hands, though the tears kept coming. "Thank you, God," she whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Thank you. I'll make this right. I swear I will."
As she sat there, clutching her knees and rocking gently, Sandra made a vow- a real one this time. She would beg Evelyn for forgiveness. She would make things right with her mother. She would never let greed or anger rule her again.

"I'll be better," she whispered to herself, her voice steady for the first time in hours. "I'll be better. I promise."
Away from there, Claire's eyelids fluttered open, and the dim hospital room swam into focus. The soft beeping of monitors echoed around her, reminding her of where she was.

Her gaze settled on Evelyn, who sat at her bedside, clutching her hand so tightly as if she feared that if she let go Claire would die.
Evelyn's eyes, red-rimmed from hours of crying, lit up when Claire stirred. Her face broke into a mixture of relief and exhaustion.
"How long have I been out?" Claire asked weakly, her voice raspy from disuse.

Evelyn squeezed her hand. "A couple of hours," she said softly.
"The doctor said it's most likely a concussion."
Claire's eyes darted to the wall clock, then to the window. The faint glow of twilight hinted at how much time had passed. "Where is your father?" she asked. "You've been here for a while. You need to go home, Evie." Her voice was gentle but firm, her maternal instincts taking over despite her fragile state.
Evelyn shook her head vehemently, tears welling up again. "You gave us all a terrible scare, Mom. I'm not leaving your side until you're out of here," she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Claire's lips, even though the effort made her head ache. "You don't have to worry," she said softly. "I don't plan on dying anytime soon."
"But you wouldn't wake up!" Evelyn cried, her voice breaking. "Even after the doctors said you were alright, you just.. you wouldn't wake up."
Claire sighed, the sound heavy with regret and exhaustion. "That wasn't intentional, she said. Her expression shifted, her brow furrowing in concern. "What about Sandra?" she asked cautiously.
She had not seen her since she woke up, and the silence surrounding her was telling.
Evelyn looked away, her lips tightening as she avoided her mother's gaze. She hesitated, unsure how to reveal the truth without upsetting Claire.

Claire sighed deeply, already suspecting the answer. "She didn't push me deliberately," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "It was a mistake."
Evelyn snapped her head back to look at Claire, her jaw tightening.
"It doesn't matter, Mom. That's not the only thing she's done," Evelyn said, her voice low but firm. "She almost killed Rayna. She tried to run her down with her car, but Rayna's boyfriend was hit instead."
Claire closed her eyes briefly, as if the weight of Evelyn's words was too much to bear. When she opened them again, they were filled with sorrow.

Evelyn noticed her mother's silence and reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. "I know you're sad, Mom, she whispered.
"I wish I could do something to help Sandra, but she's committed too many crimes. There's nothing I can do."

Claire's voice was calm but resolute as she replied, "I went to her room that night to give her one last chance. I didn't know she'd done something so terrible to Rayna, too." She paused, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I love Sandra, but she should pay for her actions. You don't have to feel guilty or try to placate me. It's tragic that it's come to this, but l'd rather see her behind bars than let her become a danger to herself and others."

Evelyn swallowed hard, her emotions warring inside her. "So... I don't have to forgive her?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you woke up because I promised to forgive her."
Claire turned her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Don't be silly," she said gently. "Why would I want to die because of Sandra?
I have so much to live for-your father, you, Samantha." She paused and gave Evelyn's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're my daughter too, Evie. Don't ever forget that."
Tears spilled down Evelyn's cheeks as she whispered, "Yes, you're my mother. And, just so you know... you have one more person to live for."
Claire tilted her head in confusion, then followed Evelyn's gaze to her stomach. Her eyes widened. "You're pregnant?"
Evelyn nodded, biting her lip as fresh tears spilled over.

"Oh, Evie!" Claire exclaimed, her face breaking into a smile despite her exhaustion. "I'm so happy to hear that!" She reached up weakly to embrace her daughter.
Evelyn leaned forward, holding her mother close as sobs shook her shoulders. "Thank you, Mom. Thank you for coming back to me. I don't know what I would have done if..." Her voice broke, unable to finish the sentence.
Claire stroked her hair gently. "Shh, it's alright. I'm here now," she murmured. She pulled back slightly and brushed the tears from Evelyn's cheeks. "But tell me, how do you feel?"
Evelyn sniffled and gave a watery laugh. "I feel relieved, Mom. But how do you feel? Are you alright?"
Claire shrugged slightly, wincing as the movement made her headache flare. "Apart from this terrible headache, I feel... sad.

Sad for Sandra. But I know the sadness won't last forever," she said softly. She paused and looked at Evelyn with a serious expression. "Evie, you should forgive her."
"But you said I don't have to," Evelyn reminded her, confused.
"Forgiveness doesn't mean she shouldn't face the consequences of her actions," Claire explained. "It's something you do for yourself. Don't let hate fill your heart, Evie. It'll only weigh you down and make you bitter. Learn to live light, my darling."

"Are you an angel? I'm starting to think so," Evelyn said, and Claire laughed softly.
Before she could respond, the door opened, and Eric walked in, carrying a pack of food. Derek followed closely behind him with
water and a dinner pack for Evelyn too.
"You're awake!" Eric exclaimed, hurrying to Claire's side. He looked at her with a mixture of relief and worry as he set the food aside.
"How are you feeling?"