It was still her favorite adzuki beans.
"Adzuki beans grow in the southern land, sprouting a few branches in the spring."
A faint mist welled up in her eyes.
Sylvan Cheney noticed she didn’t look well and felt a wave of anxiety: "Does it not taste good? If not, there are other things."
She shook her head.
Sylvan sat at the bedside, patiently feeding her. His fingers, distinct and pronounced, held the spoon in a particularly pleasing manner.
He knew so words were not appropriate to say right now, so he silently fed her breakfast without saying much.
Jasmine Yale ate very slowly.
Sylvan was equally patient, feeding her spoonful by spoonful.
The clean, faint scent on his white shirt tickled Jasmine’s nose, causing a pang of bitterness.
Halfway through a bowl of porridge, Jasmine refused to eat more: "I can’t eat anymore."
"Alright, eat more when you’re hungry. The doctor will co to check on you later."
"Please go out." Jasmine didn’t look at him, "I want so peace."
"I’ll sit by your side and won’t disturb you."
"Mr. President... you don’t need to feel guilty towards . I was the one at fault for not answering your call, and it’s normal for you to be angry."
"Jasmine, I apologize for what happened last night. It was all my fault; I won’t argue."
"You did nothing wrong; you couldn’t possibly be wrong."
"First, take good care of your health. I’ll apologize once you recover and are discharged."
"No need. Let it go. However... I guess I’ve also understood so of the thoughts in your mind." In his eyes, she was worthless.
"You don’t need to mind what was said when drunk. I was indeed just too drunk." Apologies surfaced in Sylvan’s heart, and his head ached faintly.
"It’s okay, I won’t take it to heart."
"You..."
"Mr. President, please allow so peace, okay?" She didn’t look at him, her gaze still fixed outside the window.
The white curtains were softly fluttering.
Outside the curtains was an endless sky and a canopy of high-rise buildings.
At the end of sumr in Cakago, it was dry and uplifting, with greenery flourishing everywhere.
Sylvan closed his eyes weakly, unable to handle her like this.
He had no choice but to bend down, tidying the table before leaving the room.
As soon as he left, the unique scent belonging to him vanished into the air...
Jasmine Yale’s eyes rimd with redness.
Under the quilt, her hand involuntarily touched her stomach.
She couldn’t rember that Sylvan Cheney was no longer the Sylvan who pampered, indulged, and protected her; he learned to hurt her.
The heart ached from being hurt, yet she was helpless.
She couldn’t bring herself to dislike him.
But no matter what, she had to admit that he was no longer the old Sylvan Cheney.
Having lost eighteen years of shared mories, neither of them could go back.
Now, they were just semi-familiar strangers, perhaps... many things were no longer demanding.
But those things he said and did at night, she rembered clearly, her wrist and shoulder seemingly still in pain.
After a long ti.
She took out her phone and sent a ssage to Butler Santana: Out on a business trip, don’t worry.
She saw call after call on her phone, her gaze sowhat vacant, realizing she made both Butler Santana and Yukon Carbon worried.
At the thought of the gift thrown away by Sylvan Cheney, Jasmine Yale felt an unspeakable pain in her heart.
It truly was an unforgettable birthday.
She looked at the tall buildings and green trees outside, listening to the hum of the air conditioner.
She didn’t know what to do. After all this ti, she was still an incredibly unlucky person, almost causing this baby to... leave her.
Perhaps eting Sylvan Cheney had already used up all her lifeti’s luck.
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