One Mistake 25

hapter 25 

Evelyn stood on stage, bathed in the soft halo of the spotlight. The trophy in her hand felt heavy–real. 

The crowd below erupted into thunderous applause. Sitting in the front row, Ryan Hays was grinning ear to ear, clearly even more thrilled than she was. 

“This award,” Evelyn began, her voice steady, “is for everyone who believed in me. Especially the one 

person who never once gave up on me.” 

Her eyes landed on Ryan. 

The camera panned to him. He rubbed his nose sheepishly, but his eyes gleamed with pride. 

At the celebration dinner, Evelyn clinked her glass and turned to Claire. “So,” she asked with a half–smile, 

“do you think Ryan and I make sense together?” 

Claire rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’ve been glued together for three months–and now you ask me?” 

Evelyn’s cheeks flushed. “I’m serious.” 

“No kidding,” Claire laughed and threw an arm around her. “My brother’s had a thing for you since high 

school. Now that you’re finally together, I’m freaking ecstatic.” 

Just then, Ryan walked over. Hearing the tail end of that, the tips of his ears turned pink. “Claire…” 

Claire burst into laughter and gave Evelyn a little push into his arms. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you 

lovebirds alone.” 

Ryan took Evelyn’s hand and smiled. “Nervous?” 

“A little,” she admitted softly. “I mean… I’ve been married before.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “This wedding is just for us. No one else 

matters.” 

The wedding day dawned bright and golden. 

Evelyn stood beneath the floral arch, radiant in the gown she’d crafted with her own hands. Ryan, dressed in 

a perfectly tailored suit, looked at her with trembling hands and joy that barely fit in his chest. 

“You look beautiful,” Mrs. Hays whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “Ryan is so lucky to have you.” 

Mr. Hays nodded beside her. “You’re part of the family now.‘” 

Evelyn’s throat tightened. She hadn’t felt this cherished in a very, very long time. 

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The music began. 

She took Mr. Hays’s arm and walked slowly, step by step, toward Ryan. 

Far in the back row of the church, Brandon sat in silence, watching it all unfold. 

He watched Evelyn’s happiness radiate across the room, and something twisted savagely in his chest. 

He finally understood the pain Evelyn must have felt. 

Back then, when he’d stood beside Vanessa on that wedding day, had Evelyn been just like him now–hidden 

in some dark corner, fighting back tears? 

Onstage, the couple exchanged rings. Ryan gently slid the band onto her finger, then leaned in for a kiss. 

The church burst into applause. 

Brandon’s phone buzzed. 

“Mr. Caldwell,” came the nurse’s urgent voice on the other end, “your mother… she’s asking for you.” 

Brandon tightened his grip on the phone. He looked one last time at Evelyn–laughing, radiant, married. 

“Evelyn,” he whispered in his heart, Goodbye. 

He pushed open the hospital room door just as a glass flew past his head and smashed into the wall behind 

him, shards scattering. 

“Get out!” his mother screamed from the bed, her voice hoarse. “I said I don’t want you–I want Evelyn!” 

In the corner, a nurse named Auntie White stood with a fresh scratch on her arm, eyes wide in relief. “Mr. 

Caldwell, she’s already driven away three caregivers today. Keeps saying no one’s as gentle as Miss Evelyn.” 

Brandon walked slowly to the bedside, his voice low. “Evelyn’s not coming back.” 

His mother stared at him with cloudy eyes. “It’s your fault. If you hadn’t divorced-” 

Brandon knelt to gather the pills scattered on the floor, and suddenly laughed–hollow and bitter. “You’re right. It’s all my fault.” 

The next day, Brandon stood at the gate of the psychiatric facility, a document in hand. 

“Would you like to see her?” the doctor asked, voice low. 

He shook his head and handed over the papers. “No need.” 

From inside, Vanessa’s voice shrieked through the halls. “Brandon Caldwell! You’ll die alone, Brandon Caldwell! Do you hear me?!” 

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He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look back. Curses like that had long since lost their sting. 

Rain fell lightly on the day of the funeral. 

Brandon stood alone before the grave, waiting until everyone else had left. Only then did he kneel in the wet 

earth. 

Moments before she passed, his mother had clutched his hand and whispered, “My biggest regret in life… was ruining what you had with Evelyn.” 

He had replied with only three words: “Too late now.” 

After the funeral, Brandon returned to the place they once called home. 

The moment he pushed open the door, for a brief second, he thought he heard her voice: 

“You’re home? Dinner’s almost ready.” 

But there was nothing. 

But of course–there was nothing. Just silence. He sank into the couch where they used to cuddle, closed his eyes, and let the tears fall–slow and steady. 

Chapter 25