When His Perfect Mask Shattered I Awoke (Anneliese and Zacharias) novel Chapter 565

Jessica refused to let Anneliese contort herself for anyone, not even her grandma, or live in opposition to her own desires.

They'd endured enough bitterness in their upbringing; it was time to prioritize themselves and embrace self-love.

That was the essence of it.

Grasping Anneliese's hand, Jessica looked into her eyes. Anneliese met her gaze, then shook her head slowly. "I never resented him," she whispered. "My dad was just doing his duty back then. Saving him was his responsibility."

Her father had died a hero.

She believed that wherever he rested, he wouldn't want her to blindly harbor resentment toward Jonathan, yet she could also empathize with her grandma.

Back then, their family had been eagerly awaiting the birth of her baby brother, lives brimming with joy and hope.

Then everything had fallen apart—home broken, hopes destroyed. For a parent to bury her children...

Even decades later, that sorrow had never really let go.

Though her adoptive mother and brother's deaths were accidental, Nishay's pain and fury demanded an outlet. Without it, she could have spiraled into madness.

At that time, Nishay wouldn't allow the Fullbusters near Anneliese's adoptive parents' graves. She refused them even a glance. Any offerings or money they sent were thrown away.

Her hatred ran deep, so at the sight of Anneliese now with Jonathan, it was no surprise that Nishay couldn't accept it.

Fortunately, Nishay hadn't lost control this time. Otherwise, Anneliese didn't dare imagine the consequences.

Jessica said, "If Ms. Morris can't come around, that's on Jonathan. What matters is that you figure out what you want. That's all that counts."

Anneliese lowered her head, her energy weighed down, tangled in frustration and hesitation.

Jessica leaned forward, lifted Anneliese's chin, held her gaze, and asked directly, "Just say it—do you love Jonathan?"

That was the heart of the matter.

Anneliese's lashes fluttered, lips moving without producing words. She wanted to deny it, to argue, yet nothing escaped her throat.

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