Fated love: the unwanted bride

Even more so if it’s someone like Sylvan Cheney.

She got up to go to the bathroom and change into the new pajamas he bought.

When she came out, he was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, his face sullen, with an indescribable look.

She dug into her wallet, and handed him a stack of renminbi.

“Thank you.”

This move thoroughly angered Sylvan Cheney.

He grabbed her wrist and forcefully pulled her into his arms.

Her hand shook and the money scattered on the floor!

“You’re keeping this close an account with me? Huh?” Sylvan’s voice trembled with outrage.

“Some things are better kept straight,” Jasmine Yale said lightly.

“How about feelings? How do you count them? Teach me.”

“Feelings? I separate them very clearly, Mr. Cheney, I used to like you, but it was just youthful ignorance. Doesn’t everyone have those moments?” Jasmine said, “We’ve had no contact for three years, and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Looking back, my fondness for you was like any other young girl’s – I simply liked that you were handsome. Mr. Cheney, you indeed are handsome, really.”

“Jasmine Yale, I don’t want to hear this kind of nonsense from you!”

Sylvan was angry, thoroughly angry.

Jasmine’s wrist was red from his grip, and she was held down on his thigh, unable to move.

Her expression remained calm.

Even if he told her that the baby wasn’t his, they still weren’t meant to be.

She couldn’t understand him. He was like a labyrinth – the deeper she went, the more she feared.

His complicated emotions, his complicated methods, his complicated background,

All she saw in those twelve years was just the tip of the iceberg.

This scared her very much.

Besides, he now had a fiancée.

She knew her place.

“You can put me down. If you don’t want the money, I’ll take it back. I know you’re not short of money,” Jasmine turned her head away.

Sylvan Cheney released his grip, and his tone relaxed, “Life is long, I have plenty of patience.”

Jasmine jumped off his lap.

She didn’t understand what he was saying.

She tidied her hair and took the pills from the table.

“Mr. Cheney, are you really going to sleep here? If so, will you sleep on the bed or on the couch? If you choose the bed, I’ll give it to you.”

“Isn’t there a third choice?”

“The floor,” Jasmine rolled her eyes.

Sylvan Cheney: “…”

Jasmine really didn’t feel like sleeping, especially with Sylvan Cheney present.

She sat on the bed reading a comic book.

The books that Charles Mcintosh had brought were pretty good, amusing ones.

Sylvan Cheney was sitting on the couch.

She read her book, he watched her.

Her hair hanging down was docile, such a sight easily made him forget her sharp claws.

When she found something interesting in the comic book, she’d laugh to herself.

She pretended as if Sylvan Cheney wasn’t there at all.

Sylvan was upset, realizing he wasn’t even as good as a game or comic book.

This feeling was very unpleasant.

“I’m going outside to smoke,” Sylvan could no longer control himself, took a packet of cigarettes, and walked out.

Once he left, Jasmine glanced out the window.

Outside, it’s pitch black and very quiet.

From time to time, you could hear the roar of the wind, causing the window glass to squeak.

The outside was very cold, but the room was warm.

Jasmine wrapped herself in a blanket, laughing while she read.

It was only after she had finished reading another two books that she finally felt sleepy.

When she put down the comic book, Sylvan had returned.