Annelise Valentine watched him, listening as he spoke those words, one by one.
Every sentence was like him tearing his heart open, every sentence a plea.
But when he was done, she just stood there quietly.
"You don't like having servants in the house because *she* didn't like it."
"You became such a good cook for her. Even the sweet and sour pork ribs you make for me are a dish *she* loved."
"All those light-colored clothes are what *she* liked."
"The rooms at Stonecross Manor are decorated in the pink themes *she* adored."
"Even the white-pink roses you used to confess your feelings to me were *her* favorite."
She demanded, "Jett Westgate, do you love me, or are you loving *her* through me?"
Her voice began to tremble again.
"You've never once tried to truly understand me."
"I don't like an empty, lifeless house. I like it to be bustling and warm, with a cook in the kitchen, a driver for the car, and a gardener tending to the flowers."
