When His Perfect Mask Shattered I Awoke (Anneliese) novel Chapter 562

In that instant, everything finally made sense to Anneliese.

Of course Grandma lost control the second Jonathan showed up. Of course she fought so hard to shut down whatever we had.

Of course the hair tie I dropped somehow ended up in his hand. Of course he's been endlessly patient since the first day we met—calm, gentle, always stepping in like he's been guarding me forever.

And of course a man with his position—someone who could have any woman without even trying—still chose to marry someone like me, with a messy history and a marriage that already failed once.

All that talk about his family forcing him, all that so-called contract marriage—it was all just a cover.

He came close, protected me, stayed by my side, married me... all because of that night, that fire, that past I never forgot.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I never meant to hide it from you. I just..."

Jonathan watched Anneliese, who stood frozen with shock. He realized she finally remembered him—she finally recognized him.

He used to dream about this moment, imagining she'd recall everything and choose him. But now fear gnawed at him, leaving his voice low and raw, as if speaking too loudly might shatter her.

He took her cold fingers and warmed them in his palms. He looked composed, but the faint shake at the edge of his voice betrayed him.

He wasn't afraid of Nishay, nor of the tragedy from back then.

He was afraid of this—afraid of how she would see him now, how she'd see their marriage, their future.

Afraid she'd react like Nishay, shut him out, refuse to even look at him again.

"You didn't mean to?" Anneliese finally raised her head, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan's explanation stalled. Her gaze pinned him in place, his throat tightening until he could barely breathe.

In the end, he chose to confess.

"Honey, I planned everything years ago. Back then, I wanted to bring you to my family in Halden, to keep you safe, to raise you. That room you saw is the one I prepared for you. Grandpa agreed—he said I could bring you home as my little sister. So when people say I had some childhood sweetheart... that person was you. It was always you."

Anneliese stared, stunned. His confession crashed into her like sudden thunder.

She couldn't even sort out what she felt.

That year, she'd lost her adoptive parents. She saw her dad's broken body with her own eyes. When she returned home, she found the bloodstained stairs where her mom had fallen.

The stray part had been real—but the one who engineered it wasn't Zacharias at all. It was Jonathan.

Her vision blurred. Her chest tightened with too much emotion—she didn't know if she should feel relieved or shattered. The revelation struck so hard it felt unreal.

Only one thing was clear—she didn't need his guilt or his long-buried gratitude. Not like this.

Her complexion faded. Jonathan looked into her eyes and found no joy, no relief—nothing hopeful.

They stood close enough to touch, yet something unseen dragged them further apart.

He couldn't bear that trembling distance, that helpless feeling slipping out of his grasp.

He reached for her. "Honey, I..."

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, lift her, hold her tight.

But before he could, she raised her hand, stopping him. Her body angled back, flinching instinctively.

His hand met empty air. He went still, rigid, a sharp crease forming between his brows.