The Day Our Promise Breaks (Charles and Evelyn) novel Chapter 656

Andrew’s voice shook, caught somewhere between disbelief and wild relief.

Evelyn stood off to the side, glued to the monitors. When the numbers finally ticked upward, her hands clenched so hard her knuckles went white.

Another rescue, every second agonizing.

She didn’t look away from the screens, not once.

She watched Charles’s heartbeat finally steady—still faint, but holding on. His blood pressure stopped its terrifying drop.

He was stable now.

He was going to make it.

Evelyn exhaled, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath the whole time.

It hit her then—she hadn’t breathed properly for who knows how long.

The weight of that realization pressed down on her chest.

Almost immediately, she dropped her gaze, tore her eyes from Charles’s pale frame on the bed, and turned sharply toward the door.

Her steps were quick—urgent, almost desperate, as if she had to get out before she broke.

Andrew wanted to call after her, ask her to stay with Charles.

But seeing her cold, retreating figure, the words died on his lips.

He knew Charles had hurt Ms. Evelyn deeply. Some wounds didn’t heal with apologies.

She’d come at all. That was already more than he could ask for.

He couldn’t force her to stay.

…

Only when she got to Charlie’s room did Evelyn feel the storm inside her settle.

All she could think of was her daughter—there was no more space for anything else. Her heart was full, aching, but focused only on her little girl.

Evelyn pushed open the door and slid straight to Charlie’s bedside.

She searched her daughter’s small face, desperate for reassurance.

Charlie lay peacefully, her tiny chest moving in an even rhythm.

The heart monitor beside the bed blinked a steady green line, its soft beeping a lifeline Evelyn clung to.

But Charlie’s sweet, delicate face was drained of color, making Evelyn’s heart twist with worry.

“Charlie…”

Evelyn’s voice was shaky, caught between a sob and a prayer. With trembling hands, she cupped her daughter’s small hand, pressing it tightly to her own cold cheek.

That living warmth was like a fresh spring after a drought—pulling her back from the edge.

“It’s okay… It’s okay now, Charlie. Mommy’s here… Mommy’s right here…”

She whispered again and again, as much for herself as for her daughter.

She bowed her head, pressing her forehead to Charlie’s little hand. Finally, the tears fell—hot, unchecked, unstoppable.

Thank God.

Andrew’s blurry face.

Francis’s vague outline.

But not her.

Whatever hope he had flickered and died, leaving only dull gray emptiness.

What was he even thinking?

Evelyn would never come here… She hated him. Why would she—

Come back.

“Charles.”

At that, a spark lit up in Charles’s dull eyes.

He hadn’t imagined it.

She had come.

She’d pulled him back from the brink.

Given him another chance.

That hope burned inside him—small, but fierce and impossible to ignore.

Did this mean… maybe… she was willing to give him a second chance?