He must have just heard her talking to Yukon Carbon on the phone.
Right now, Sylvan Cheney is like a hedgehog; she’s afraid of holding the little hedgehog in her arms, fearing getting pricked if she gets too close.
The little hedgehog pricks the hand, but he pierces the heart.
Her heart aches.
Jasmine Yale’s feet didn’t move, and there was a look of hesitation in her eyes.
A bit at a loss.
Leaving wasn’t right, staying wasn’t right either.
The sunlight shone down, landing on her face. She squinted slightly, looking at Sylvan Cheney.
She looked at him, and he looked at her.
Just as she was unresponsive, Sylvan Cheney walked towards her, his slippers stepping on the leaves on the ground.
Seeing him almost close to her, Jasmine Yale stepped back two steps, putting a distance between them.
Suddenly, disappointnt appeared in Sylvan Cheney’s eyes.
It was only upon getting closer that Jasmine realized he had lost weight, with deep sunken eyes.
"I want to eat sothing." He looked at her, his voice sowhat dejected.
"Is there no one in the ward?"
He shook his head.
"Who brought you here? How co there’s no one? You can call a caregiver or a nurse; they’ll bring you food."
"I don’t want to." He was like a child, gently lifting his eyelids, speaking softly, without the usual harshness.
Jasmine Yale found it both funny and exasperating; she really didn’t know what to do with Sylvan Cheney.
It used to be him coaxing her, and now, it seed like she was coaxing him.
She looked at him helplessly, "I’m pregnant; it’s inconvenient."
"There’s a little kitchen in the ward," he insisted.
"Do you really want to make breakfast for you?"
"Yes." Sylvan Cheney lowered his eyebrows, like a droopy-headed little wolfdog, putting away his sharp teeth and claws.
"I’m a pregnant woman!"
"I’m a patient."
"You are unreasonable, Sylvan Cheney." Jasmine Yale looked at him, "When you’re unwell, you think of , wanting to take care of you. But once you’re better and have energy, you throw a tantrum at . You’re being completely unreasonable."
Sylvan Cheney pressed his lips together, an innocent look in his eyes.
His deep eyes were clear and bright.
Under the sunlight, they beca even more striking.
Jasmine Yale wasn’t used to the quiet Sylvan Cheney, feeling even more helpless: "I think... once we’ve broken up, we shouldn’t keep in touch."
"Make breakfast, and I’ll tell stories to your baby, okay?" he negotiated.
"I..." Jasmine was taken aback at first, then said, "My baby isn’t born yet, he can’t understand."
"Didn’t you say he’s smart and can understand?"
"..." Jasmine Yale was left with no retort; like other mothers, she loved hearing people praise her baby.
After a mont of silence, she said softly, "We’ve broken up."
"Jasmine, I don’t want to break up, let’s not break up, okay?" Sylvan Cheney was a bit anxious, his brows furrowing.
Jasmine Yale looked up in shock.
Sylvan Cheney had really changed, changed a lot.
He used to never share his feelings with her or express his emotions so directly.
"Who knows when you’ll be in a bad mood again and say, ’Jasmine Yale, give back all the gifts!’ You need a sense of security, and so do I." Jasmine said quietly.
"Am I... really that bad?" Sylvan Cheney felt awkward and uneasy.
"Yes, how could you not be."
"I won’t be like that anymore."
"I don’t like empty promises and lies. Let ask you a question, and you answer first." Jasmine Yale looked at him, "What do you think is the relationship between and Yukon Carbon?"
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