Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 449: That’s your choice not mine

Back at the café, the noise of the outside world seemed to fade into nothing more than a distant hum.

Cups clinked, soft music played somewhere in the background, and people laughed at nearby tables—but none of it reached Roseline.

Her entire world had narrowed down to the photograph in her trembling hands.

The image was old, slightly faded at the edges. A man stood at the center of it, tall and sharply dressed, his arm draped casually around a younger woman who smiled too brightly for comfort. And in her arms—a baby. Small. Wrapped in a soft blanket.

The faces were familiar. Too familiar for her to ignore.

Roseline’s chest tightened.

The dread came back all at once, violent and suffocating, as if it had only been waiting for the right moment to resurface. Her fingers curled around the photo, crumpling the corner before she realized what she was doing. Her breath hitched, shallow and uneven.

No. Not again.

She had buried this memory. Locked it away in a place so deep she’d convinced herself it no longer existed. But now it was staring back at her, undeniable proof that the past wasn’t done with her.

Her vision blurred. The café suddenly felt too small, too bright, too loud.

"Mom?"

Anna’s voice cut through the fog.

Roseline didn’t respond.

Anna frowned, noticing the way Roseline’s shoulders had gone stiff, her usually warm expression drained of all color. Her hands were shaking now, though she seemed completely unaware of it.

"T–This... how did you find this photo?" Roseline’s eyes shot up, wide and almost frantic, leaving Anna momentarily startled by the raw panic in them.

The dread was too evident. And the more Anna looked at her mother, the more she felt the uneasy doubt she’d been carrying for months solidify into something far more real.

Her thoughts drifted back to Daniel’s subtle hints—how he would go quiet whenever Roseline’s past was mentioned, how his questions were always indirect, cautious. Then there was Collin, casually admitting one meeting that she wasn’t Hugo’s daughter. At the time, Anna had laughed it off, thinking it was the biggest joke of her life. However that didn’t stop her from looking deeper into his words.

But now, everything suddenly started to make sense.

And what truly confirmed her suspicion was that night.

The night Daniel had fallen asleep in his study.

She remembered it clearly. The house had been silent, the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminating stacks of files. She had walked in intending to wake him, maybe scold him for working himself into exhaustion again.

But her eyes had fallen on a black folder left open on his desk.

Unlabeled. Thick. Heavy.

And inside it—just barely visible—a photograph.

This photograph.

At first, she had only meant to put it back. She hadn’t wanted to pry. Curiosity had felt harmless, almost accidental.

But the moment she pulled the photo out, her breath had caught.

Not because of the man.

But because of the woman standing beside him.

Roseline.

Younger. Softer. But unmistakably her.

Anna had flipped through the file with trembling hands. There were documents inside—old records, legal forms, addresses from years ago. Roseline’s name appeared again and again, but paired with a surname Anna had never seen before. There was even a timeline of events that didn’t match anything Roseline had ever told her about her life.

And one name kept repeating itself in bold print: Collin.

That was the moment Anna realized this wasn’t just about a forgotten memory.

It was about a life her mother had never told her about.

Now, sitting across from Roseline, Anna finally spoke the truth she had been holding back since that night.

She wanted to know everything.

What went wrong.

Why Roseline had married Hugo.

Why she had lied for so many years, kept her trapped in a story that was never real, growing up believing she was unlovable—just a shadow that was meant to stay quiet, meant to stay hidden.

The questions burned in Anna’s chest, one after another, too heavy to ignore now that the truth had begun to surface. All those moments she’d felt out of place. All the times she’d wondered why she never truly fit into the Bennett family, why affection had always felt conditional, fragile.

It hadn’t been her imagination.

Roseline, on the other hand, could feel Anna’s gaze on her like a weight. It wasn’t anger that frightened her the most—it was the betrayal. The silent kind. The kind that didn’t explode, but instead settled deep and stayed there, reshaping everything it touched.

Roseline had faced powerful men, ruthless threats, and dangerous secrets before.

But she had never feared anything the way she feared this moment.

Because this time, the person standing in front of her wasn’t an enemy. It was her daughter.

And she had no idea how to defend herself.

"T–This... just forget you even saw this," Roseline suddenly said, her voice unsteady as she shoved the phone back toward Anna, almost too quickly, as if the device itself were burning her hands.

"Delete this photo," she added, panic creeping into her tone. "And think you never saw it."

Anna blinked, genuinely stunned.

Her brows drew together slowly, confusion giving way to disbelief. The way Roseline was fumbling now—her hands shaking, her eyes darting around as if someone might be listening—felt wrong. Desperate.

"Forget it?" Anna repeated softly. "That’s it? That’s all you have to say?"

Roseline’s lips parted, but no words came out.

"You spent my entire life telling me half-truths," Anna continued, her voice low but trembling with restrained emotion. "You made me believe I was just... difficult. That I didn’t belong anywhere because something was wrong with me."

Her throat tightened.

"And now I finally see a piece of the truth, and you want me to delete it?"

Roseline’s eyes glistened. "I’m trying to protect you."

"From what?" Anna asked sharply. "From the truth? Or from yourself?"

Roseline flinched.

"You don’t understand what you’re stepping into," she whispered. "That world isn’t something you can just look at and walk away from. Once you start pulling at these threads, everything unravels."

"Maybe it should," Anna shot back.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Anna looked down at the phone still in her hand, the photo glowing faintly on the screen. For years, she had accepted not knowing. Had accepted being in the dark. Had told herself it was normal, that every family had secrets.

But this wasn’t a secret.

This was a life.

A life Roseline had lived without her.

"You’re not asking me to forget," Anna said quietly. "You’re asking me to pretend. Again."

Roseline’s shoulders sagged. "I just don’t want you to get hurt because of my past."

Anna finally looked up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I’ve been hurting because of it my entire life," she said. "I just didn’t know why."

Roseline’s breath hitched.

Anna stood, slowly, carefully, as if she were afraid a sudden movement might break something fragile between them.

"I won’t delete it," she said firmly. "And I won’t pretend I never saw it."

Her voice softened.

"But I won’t run either. That’s your choice, not mine."

Roseline stared at her, torn between fear and regret, realizing too late that the lies she’d told to protect her daughter had only built a wall neither of them knew how to cross anymore.