Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 532: You’re allowed to feel that way

Anna’s voice was fragile in a way Daniel had rarely heard.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

Her gaze held confusion. Pain. Disbelief.

And beneath it all, something darker.

"Mom said Collin tried to kill me when I was one."

The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating.

Daniel did not interrupt.

He simply watched her, his eyes steady, his expression calm but attentive.

He could see it.

The storm inside her.

Anna was not someone who broke easily. She carried her pain quietly, burying it beneath composure and strength. But that did not mean she did not feel it.

She felt everything.

She just never allowed it to destroy her.

Anna looked away again, her fingers tightening slightly against her lap.

"I don’t remember any of it," she said softly. "I was too young."

She let out a quiet breath.

"But just knowing it happened..."

Her voice trailed off.

Daniel remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

Anna’s jaw tightened.

"The scar on his face," she said quietly. "I remember seeing it."

Her eyes darkened.

"I never asked him about it. I never cared enough to know."

But now she knew.

And the knowledge changed everything.

Roseline’s words had not sounded like lies. Not entirely. And the scar on Collin’s face, the anger she had always seen in him, the coldness she had felt in his presence...

It all made sense now.

Anna felt something unfamiliar settle inside her chest.

Not sadness.

Not grief.

Hatred.

A deep, quiet hatred toward the man who had never been worthy of being called her father.

"How could someone do that?" she asked softly. "How could someone look at their own child and still choose violence?"

Daniel’s gaze softened slightly.

He did not answer immediately.

Because there was no answer that could undo what had already been done.

Some people were broken beyond repair.

Some people chose destruction over love.

And some scars never truly faded.

Anna closed her eyes again briefly, steadying herself.

When she opened them, the storm was still there.

But she was still standing.

Still strong.

Daniel reached forward slowly and took her hand.

His grip was warm. Steady.

Grounding.

"You survived," he said quietly.

Anna looked at him, her eyes searching his face as if he held answers she could not find on her own.

She wanted to believe her mother.

She wanted to find even one reason to hold onto the idea that Roseline had not been entirely heartless. That somewhere beneath the lies, beneath the manipulation, there had still been empathy. Still been love.

But the more she thought about it, the more uncertain she became.

Roseline had told her why she ran. Why she put Collin behind bars. Why she married Hugo.

It all sounded reasonable.

Logical.

Even protective.

And yet...

Something about it still did not sit right with her.

"She said she did it to protect me," Anna said quietly, her voice distant as her thoughts wandered. "She said Hugo helped her... and in return, she married him."

Her fingers curled slightly against her lap.

"But how did it even reach that point?"

Daniel remained silent, listening.

Anna turned her head slightly, staring ahead without really seeing anything.

"Hugo wasn’t just an ordinary man," she continued. "He was powerful. Influential. The kind of man people feared and respected."

Her brows furrowed faintly.

"Men like him don’t just help someone out of kindness. They always want something in return."

She paused.

"So what made him choose her?"

The question was not directed at Daniel.

It was directed at herself.

At the confusion that refused to settle.

"I don’t understand," Anna admitted softly.

Her voice cracked just slightly, betraying the turmoil she had been holding back.

"She said she wanted a family. She said she did everything for me."

Her eyes lowered.

"But if that was true... why did it always feel like I was alone?"

The question lingered in the quiet space between them.

Daniel watched her carefully, his chest tightening at the vulnerability she rarely showed.

Anna had always been strong.

Too strong.

She carried her pain silently, never allowing herself the luxury of breaking.

But right now, she wasn’t the unshakable woman everyone saw.

She was a daughter.

A daughter trying to understand a mother she no longer recognized.

"I don’t know what to believe," Anna whispered.

Her fingers trembled slightly, though she quickly clenched them into fists, trying to regain control.

Daniel had seen enough.

Without warning, he reached forward and gently pulled her toward him.

Anna gasped softly as he guided her across the seat and onto his lap.

"Daniel—"

But he did not let her pull away.

His arms wrapped around her securely, one hand resting against her back, the other gently holding her hand.

It was not forceful.

It was protective.

Grounding.

Anna froze for a moment, her body tense with surprise.

But then she felt it.

His warmth.

His steadiness.

The quiet reassurance he offered without saying a word.

"You don’t have to figure everything out tonight," Daniel said softly near her ear.

His voice was calm.

Certain.

Anna’s fingers slowly loosened against his chest.

"I hate this," she whispered. "I hate not knowing what’s real and what isn’t."

Daniel tightened his hold on her slightly, his hand moving gently against her back in slow, comforting strokes.

"You don’t have to decide what to believe right now," he said.

Anna rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she let herself lean into him.

For the first time since leaving the restaurant, she allowed herself to stop pretending she was fine.

"I feel confused," she admitted quietly. "Part of me wants to believe her. And part of me..."

She hesitated.

"Part of me doesn’t trust her at all."

Daniel did not interrupt.

He simply let her speak.

Let her breathe.

Let her exist without pressure.

His hand moved gently through her hair, soothing her in a way words never could.

"You’re allowed to feel that way," he murmured.

Anna’s grip on his coat tightened slightly.

She did not cry.

She did not break.

But she allowed herself to be held.

And for now...

That was enough.