Fated love: the unwanted bride

“Do you miss him?”

“I want to know where he’s gone.”

“You won’t see him for a while.” Sylvan’s tone was indifferent, “Eat something!”

Jasmine Yale looked at him in disbelief, then said no more.

Composing herself, Jasmine sat on the bed eating mooncakes.

The mooncakes from Archeus Brand tasted really good, they had a unique flavor of Landon.

They were salty and melted in the mouth.

Jasmine stopped asking him anything about the baby. She didn’t need his compensation, truly she didn’t.

Three years had passed since it happened.

Any attempt to revisit that now seemed pointless.

“Do you want some?” Jasmine offered him a mooncake.

She knew he didn’t like them much; she only mentioned it casually.

Unexpectedly, Sylvan, without any reservation, leaned in and took a bite out of the mooncake she had started eating!

“Tastes quite good.” Sylvan was smug.

“I thought you didn’t like these meat-filled mooncakes?” She recoiled and was about to throw it away after he had taken a bite.

Sylvan caught her wrist, stopping her from discarding it: “You’ve already wasted one, believe it or not, if you waste another, I’ll starve you for three days. Okay?”

Jasmine fell silent.

He held her hand, and she noticed that his hand was rather cold.

Seeing that Jasmine’s mood was relatively stable, Sylvan gently stroked her head.

Jasmine instinctively dodged it, but Sylvan still caught her hand.

“Don’t go back to Sinkapore. Are you sure there’s nobody here in Landon that you’re missing?” Sylvan sighed inwardly.

“No.” Jasmine munched on her mooncake.

Sylvan fell silent.

He hadn’t expected her to answer in such a definitive and clear-cut manner.

“When the hell are you going to develop a conscience,” Sylvan exhaled in frustration, “Forget it, whether you have a conscience or not, you’re my responsibility and my doing. I accept that.”

Jasmine glanced at him.

She wasn’t seeing things, she could see the frustration in Sylvan’s face.

Deep frustration.

Was he disappointed in her?

Hardly.

Jasmine’s fever had subsided, but she didn’t have much strength left. After eating two mooncakes, she couldn’t eat any more.

Sylvan brought her a cup of warm milk.

Jasmine glanced at him, then at the milk.

“Afraid I might have poisoned it?” Sylvan asked coolly.

“No, why haven’t you gone home yet?” Jasmine was puzzled.

Didn’t he just get engaged?

Even if his fiancée was angry, shouldn’t he try to win her back?

“Afraid you might run off again.”

Sylvan sat on the edge of the bed, handing her the milk.

Feeling parched, Jasmine took the cup and gulped down a few mouthfuls.

“You’re keeping such a close eye on me, how can I run away? Why won’t you let me run away?” Jasmine glared at him, antagonism evident in her eyes.

Sylvan’s hand stroked her hair.

In his eyes, there was a profound glow with an undefined meaning.

Her hair was still so soft. One of his favorite things to do was to touch her head.

It seemed that it had become his habit.

Since she was eight years old.

“If you run away and I can’t find you again, what should I do?” Sylvan’s voice was hoarse.

Last time, he had almost lost her forever.

Forever.

The feeling still vivid, as if smelling the tip of the nose, he could catch a whiff of the chilling scent of blood in the air.

He was scared.

Jasmine stared at his eyes coldly, “Are you afraid there won’t be a suitable match for Yolanda Fern’s heart transplant…”

“That has nothing to do with it. Don’t mention it again.”

“So you’ve given up on her?” Jasmine asked indifferently.

How could Sylvan Cheney bear to give up on Yolanda Fern.