Fated love: the unwanted bride

“Butler… Do you think Sylvan despises me? After all…”

Yolanda’s eyes turned red, and tears quietly streamed down.

Her shoulders twitched, overwhelmed with sorrow.

Tomer, the butler, hastily wiped her tears with a tissue. “Silly girl, don’t cry. Stop bringing up that incident, it happened so many years ago. Mr. Cheney is not that kind of person.”

“Tomer…” Yolanda rested her head on her shoulder, “when I return back to our country, everything will be different, except for you, you’re still here.”

“Silly girl, I’m always here. Call me when you have time.”

“Okay.” Yolanda nodded.

She chatted with Tomer and then fell asleep in her room.

The next day was a Saturday, and Yolanda’s flight was scheduled for nine-thirty in the morning.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t go to the group’s office that day; instead, he prepared a car for Yolanda first thing in the morning.

In the garden, Yolanda was speaking with Chale Cheney.

“Chale, I am going to Lonton. Will you miss me?”

“Yes, I will.” Chale responded politely.

He looked very well-behaved in his denim dungarees today.

Yolanda touched his cheek and laughed, “Chale, call me ‘mom’ once. I’ve never heard you call me that.”

Chale blinked, “Dad said I shouldn’t call just anyone ‘mom’.”

“Chale Cheney!”

Sylvan, impeccably dressed, with brows slightly furrowed, walked toward the garden.

“Dad!” Chale bolted towards him immediately.

A flicker of disappointment flashed through Yolanda’s eyes—endless, like the boundless ocean.

“Be good and practice piano at home. I’m taking your Aunt to the airport.” Sylvan softly said, patting him on the head.

“Okay.”

“Butler Santana, take the young master inside.”

“Yes.” Butler Santana nodded.

The morning sun had just started to climb into the sky and the autumn morning was slightly foggy. The withered grass blades were covered in dewdrops.

“Sister!”

At that moment, Lana Fern’s voice broke the silence.

“Lana.” Yolanda turned to look at her.

“It’s getting late. Let’s go.” Sylvan said to Yolanda.

“Sylvan, I’ll ride with Lana.” Yolanda said.

“Fine.”

Sylvan got into his Rolls-Royce, Yolanda got into Lana’s BMW.

Both cars headed towards the international airport.

“Sister, how have your days been since you returned?” Lana couldn’t help asking once they were alone in the car.

“Same as usual.”

“Huh? Didn’t your husband show any signs or gestures?”

“He accompanied me while shopping, eating meals, and afternoon tea.”

“That’s great, sister. I knew it; he cares about you the most. He has never taken the time to do these things for anyone else. What about Chale? Did you get his affection?”

“He’s not close to me.”

“What? How is that…” Lana was a bit shocked.

She had seen Chale happily talking with Jasmine Yale at the nursery school gate.

Or was it that Jasmine’s methods were more subtle?

For a while, both Lana and Yolanda remained silent. Lana chewed her lip in thought.

Before seven-thirty, they arrived at the airport.

To give Sylvan and Yolanda some privacy, Lana stayed in the car by herself.

She put on sunglasses and glanced around, suddenly noticing a familiar figure.

Jasmine Yale?

She’s really committed; even on a Saturday, she’s at the airport for an interview.

She must be poor; one interview wouldn’t earn much.

Lana sneered and scoffed, not paying it any mind.

Jasmine Yale was running around. She had received a task from a colleague today to conduct an interview..