She was wearing his slippers, which didn’t quite fit her, a bit too big.
Sylvan Cheney simply picked her up horizontally and carried her to his bed.
His bed was large and soft, exuding a clean aura, with the quilt neatly folded by Sylvan Cheney.
She knew he always had a cleanliness obsession, even Chale Cheney wasn’t allowed to roll around on his bed.
He touched her swollen ankle, his brows furrowed, "Do you need so ointnt?"
"No worries, it’s a normal occurrence, it happens when you’re pregnant." Jasmine Yale comforted him.
When she was pregnant with the first baby, it was the sa, but back then he wasn’t by her side, she hid and got through it alone.
It was her first pregnancy then, she knew nothing and easily panicked when encountering problems.
It’s not like that now.
"Then don’t walk around, just sit on the bed and rest for a while. Would you like sothing to drink? I’ll go buy it."
"No need, I just had breakfast, I’m not hungry yet. How about I watch TV?"
"Pregnancy is tough, isn’t it?"
"Hmm, it is a bit." Jasmine Yale didn’t refute, "Pregnancy isn’t the hardest part, it’s very painful during childbirth, I’m a bit scared."
Sylvan Cheney looked at her soft, clear gaze, with a shine gathered in his eyes that didn’t disperse for a long while.
"How much must a woman love a man to give birth to his child?" He said softly.
"What?"
"Nothing," Sylvan Cheney stood up, "I’ll go buy you a pair of slippers, wait for ."
With that, he took the car keys and went downstairs.
He felt sowhat stifled inside.
He could compete with the one nad Cheng, he could confess to her and win her over, but he ultimately didn’t have the confidence to believe he could replace her deceased husband’s position.
She must have loved that man so much to choose to continue having the children after his death, knowing that a single mother has to endure pressures and pains that others can’t bear.
Furthermore, she seed to really like and treasure that child.
She cared for it like a treasure, constantly referring to it as "my baby" and "my beau."
Because that was the crystallization of her love with her husband.
Sylvan Cheney sat in the car and finally lit a cigarette.
He lit the lighter, and blue-white smoke shrouded his face, quickly filling the car with the scent of smoke.
His heart felt heavy and sore.
He even wondered if she agreed to be with him now simply to give her child a complete ho, and not because she liked him.
Thinking this, Sylvan Cheney felt uncomfortable all over, so he took several deep drags of the cigarette.
Smoke swirled, the nicotine numbing his nerves.
He never thought he would have such a intense feeling towards a woman, as if it were a vintage wine, knowing it would intoxicate him, cause him to lose reason, yet he relished it.
He never imagined he would have his seven emotions and six desires stirred by a woman, previously believing that his mories were blank and his heart had beco numb.
He sat in the car, motionless, not starting the Maybach for a long ti, but instead continuously smoking several cigarettes.
Smoke gradually dispersed, filling the car entirely with the scent of cigarettes.
White smoke rose swirlingly, and amidst the fog, he seed to still see Jasmine Yale’s face.
The mysterious feeling of a heart’s impulse is quite marvelous; Erin Janus saved his life, cared for him, and spent the longest ti with him, yet he never had feelings for Erin Janus, not even a hint.
But it’s different with Jasmine Yale.
After eting her, his heart seed to have revived.
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