Capítulo 1682: Chapter 1682: Only Unforgotten Longing
He again recalled that petite figure; she liked sitting on the sofa waiting for him, waiting for many years.
“Her na is Jasmine Yale, a very pretty girl. I think she should be the little angel sent to by you, mother, to co into my life at my most hopeless and helpless monts. She liked for many years and even had a child for nad Chale Cheney, your grandson.”
“These years, I never forgot the family feud and even tried to take revenge, but in the end, I found that it made very unhappy. Maybe I was too selfish, but if I am selfish this once, mother, would you forgive ?”
Sylvan Cheney wasn’t a man of many words, but at this mont, he spoke a lot to the tombstone.
His gaze was fixed on the photo on the tombstone, as if Qiana Childe were still alive.
Since learning the whole truth in that year, his inner self had struggled countless tis.
“Mom, parents cannot be chosen, and so burdens shouldn’t be borne by Jasmine. She is very kind and without guile, and her childhood wasn’t good either. Tomorrow, I plan to bring her here to et you.”
This was a decision Sylvan had thought about for a long ti.
He still rembered Jasmine Yale’s cautious looks during this period; they shouldn’t belong to her.
The trust he gave her was still insufficient, perhaps due to repeated broken promises, she no longer dared to believe him.
Thus, he made this decision.
Tomorrow, bring her to the cetery.
The day after tomorrow, he and she would go to Willow Wave City.
The wind blew fiercely, and the cold wind like a knife brushed past Sylvan Cheney’s ears, causing a strong sting.
Sylvan Cheney’s distinctly jointed large hand held the umbrella, his face still retained an elegant and noble expression, only a trace of dim lancholy covered his eyes.
Rain splashed on the umbrella, making a “tick” “tick” sound.
The tall Sylvan Cheney stood in front of the tombstone, a black trench coat, blending into the night.
Sylvan Cheney didn’t drink too much that night, and at this mont with the wind blowing, he was very clear-headed.
At the sa ti, he was also clear about what he was saying and doing.
He stood before the tombstone, stood for a very long ti.
“Mom, I know you like kids, Chale is six years old now. I’ll find a chance to bring him to see you soday. You will like him; he looks much like I did when I was young.”
Sylvan Cheney poured all his wine in front of the tombstone, with deep resolute determination in his eyes.
There were flowers in front of the tombstone, including Qiana’s favorite lilies.
The flowers had been soaked by rain, yet remained beautiful.
Sylvan wasn’t much of a talker, said these words, then bent down to bow: “I’m heading ho now, I’ll co see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, bring Jasmine Yale along.
Raindrops hit Sylvan Cheney’s shoulder, one hand held the umbrella, the other was in the pocket of his coat.
In the pocket was the Blue Demoness ring.
The designer of the ring was none other than Luka Xadrian, Hadley Xinez.
Sotis, fate is just so wondrous.
The ring Jasmine Yale looked at once and liked it; the designer was indeed her father, her biological father.
The fate predestined cannot be severed.
This ring should have been Hadley Xinez’s gift to Yana Yale.
In old age, one forgets many things, yet never forgets yearning.
Hadley Xinez had a history of ntal illness, forgotten much, but never forgot Yana Yale, never forgot they had once conceived a pair of twins.
Many of his mories remain over twenty years ago, hence around his villa are Blue Demoness flowers, and inside the villa, there are still baby items.
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