On the other end, Sylvan Cheney coughed twice, his tone seemingly displeased: "What’s the deal with the resignation letter? The leave I fought to get for you, did you ruin it with a resignation letter? Or do you think you don’t need to work anymore?"
"Hm..." Jasmine Yale didn’t want to speak, her face pale as paper.
"What does ’hm’ an? Jasmine Yale, is this how you approach work? With this attitude, what company would dare hire you in the future? Co to the office this afternoon, I need to talk to you about sothing." Sylvan Cheney’s voice was steady, possibly due to a cold, his nasal tone slightly heavy, and his scolding sowhat harsh.
"I have resigned." After a while, Jasmine Yale feebly said.
She always felt like she was hanging on by a thread, her head even spinning.
"I’ve held back your resignation letter, co over!"
Jasmine Yale closed her eyes: "I won’t go."
"Jasmine Yale, why are you throwing a tantrum? Quitting without reason—is it fun? Or do you think I can always protect you? No one can shield you at work forever. If this is your work attitude, you might as well not work!"
"Hm..."
"What’s ’hm’? Is that all you can say? Don’t rely on my fondness for you to bring your tantrums into work; no one will tolerate it!" Sylvan Cheney’s voice was overflowing with anger. "Co by this afternoon, I’ll be in the office."
After speaking, Sylvan Cheney hung up first.
Jasmine Yale held the phone to her ear for a while before realizing the call had ended.
She silently put down the phone, her eyes weary and exhausted.
Her long eyelashes fluttered, like fragile butterfly wings.
The young nurse didn’t have much in common with her, just helping out with care, rarely chatting with Jasmine Yale.
Jasmine Yale occasionally glanced at the sky, her eyes devoid of light, dull and desolate.
"Miss Yale, I bought so food. See if there’s sothing you’d like to eat." After so ti, Butler Santana entered with a large bag of items.
"Just porridge will do."
"Okay, okay, there’s porridge, there’s everything."
Butler Santana helped Jasmine Yale sit up, spoon-feeding her porridge.
The porridge was sweet, but Jasmine Yale had no appetite, no strength. Each bite took a long ti to swallow.
Butler Santana felt heartbroken, his chest aching.
Other won, when pregnant, are cherished by their husbands and family, yearning to give them the world’s best.
Yet, Jasmine Yale had to suffer like this.
It took a long ti for Jasmine Yale to eat barely half a small bowl of porridge.
Unable to eat anymore, she shook her head.
Butler Santana wiped her mouth: "Then let’s not eat for now, let know if you’re hungry, I’m here with you."
The ward was bleak, with only the cold light shining.
Butler Santana was terribly worried, afraid Jasmine Yale wouldn’t hold on.
After eating sothing, Jasmine Yale lay down, clutching the edge of the blanket with her hands, closing her eyes.
She wasn’t really sleepy, but she just wanted to lie there, feeling a bit more comfortable this way.
Beside her were the faint sounds of Butler Santana tidying the table and the "whoosh-whoosh" of the wind outside.
Gradually, those sounds faded, and she heard her own steady breathing and heartbeat, seemingly mixed with the baby’s heartbeat.
She was too exhausted and fell asleep again in a daze.
The sky was overcast, thick clouds blocking the daylight, the atmospheric pressure around quite low.
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