Fated love: the unwanted bride

The library was filled with the scent of books and ink, rows and rows of books filling the shelves.

Joe Heath walked her all the way upstairs and only then waved goodbye.

“When you’re ready to leave, remember to call me. I’ll come fetch you.”

Joe Heath had his hands in his coat pockets, tall and lean, with handsome brows and eyes, his beautiful pupils twinkling in the sunlight.

“Alright.”

Jasmine Yale didn’t say okay and didn’t say no.

Once he’d left, she found a quiet spot to sit down.

Spreading out the book, she glanced outside to appreciate the view.

The sun was softly lighting up the ground and several wintersweet flowers were blossoming on the empty plot of land downstairs. The flowers were small, and the fragrance was everywhere.

Jasmine Yale rubbed between her eyebrows before lowering her head to read.

“In accord with…”

“Out of breath…”

She recited the phrases in her mind, one hand supporting her head.

The sunlight came in from the large floor-to-ceiling window, illuminating her hair, her shoulders and the book.

Jasmine Yale’s eyes were somewhat vague.

As if shielded by a white mist, faint and indistinct, the light wasn’t clear any more.

Only the twinkle in her small pupils, glowing and diming, remained…

Suddenly coming across a very unfamiliar word—

She instinctively raised her head and blurted, “How do you pronounce this?”

The sound echoed in the empty space, and then vanished.

Jasmine Yale froze.

It turned out that deep-seated habits were terrifying.

Like being branded on the heart, it couldn’t be excised or removed.

An obsessively deep-rooted habit became like a ghost, following you like a shadow.

Whenever she studied words in his study and came across a word she didn’t know, she was too lazy to look it up, and would always just blurt out to him who was working—

“How do you pronounce this?”

“What does this mean?”

“How do you make a sentence with this?”

Asking him was always faster than looking it up.

Each time, he would say she was lazy, but he would still indulgently answer her, teaching her, the next time.

Jasmin Yale bit her lip until it bled, the metallic taste spreading in her mouth.

The taste stimulated her nerves, her eyes stinging, her throat choked up.

Her pen dropped to the floor!

With a “bang”——

There was an echo in the empty library.

Every grass and tree of Landon was stimulating her nerves because they were too familiar, and so she could not forget.

Pangs of neuralgia.

Jasmine Yale supported her head, feeling her temple throbbing non-stop.

She closed her eyes. The sunlight danced on her long eyelashes.

The cell phone abruptly started vibrating on the table!

Vibrating…

Vibrating…

Jasmin Yale had a splitting headache. She picked up her phone and walked outside, exhausted.

“Hello…”

“Miss Yale, it’s me.”

The voice of Charles Mcintosh.

Jasmine Yale’s heart knotted. She instinctively rejected the sound of his voice.

Her hand clenching the phone: “What’s the matter?”

“Miss Yale, I heard that you were taken to the hospital because you’re not feeling well.”

“No big deal. It’s winter and it’s normal to feel uncomfortable.” Jasmine explained.

“I thought it was because of Mr. Cheney…”

“How could that be?” Jasmine Yale lightly said. “Mr. Mcintosh, you know, I hate him to death. I was doing just fine in Sinkapore, it’s not his place to forbid me from leaving Landon. Moreover, he has a fiancée but he still wants me to be his lover. Such a person, I really hate to death.”

Charles Mcintosh: “…”

“Mr. Mcintosh, you should come back to the country as soon as possible. Chale Cheney still doesn’t know anything, and I’m worried that Butler Santana can’t take care of him properly.”

“Miss Yale, I’m dealing with some matters and can’t return for the time being.”

“Then you should come back as soon as possible.”

“Miss Yale, are you really unwilling to see Mr. Cheney? For one last time.”