Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1165: I Will Not Go Looking for You Again

Chapter 1165: Chapter 1165: I Will Not Go Looking for You Again

Having cried herself out, she lay sprawled alone on the attic table, her shoulders convulsing intermittently.

Her voice hoarse from sobbing, she quietly wiped away her tears.

The attic was enclosed, and she couldn’t see outside.

At some point, footsteps sounded near her, and a tall, slender figure appeared by her side.

Sylvan Cheney came in.

He stood by her side for a long time, and once the door was opened, the gradually darkening sky outside was visible.

Jasmine Yale buried her little head in her knees, crying breathlessly, without making a sound, but her shoulders shivered uncontrollably.

Sylvan Cheney walked over to her and pressed her shoulders, forcing her to look up.

He used a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face.

Jasmine’s vision was blurry, her eyes were red, long lashes hung with glittering droplets, and her gaunt face was streaked with tears.

He held her shoulders, preventing her from moving, and silently kept wiping her tears away.

The air was very still.

Jasmine struggled, her stubborn eyes gazing at him, the depths of them flickered with shimmering light.

But she could never win in a struggle, and before long, Sylvan had her firmly pinned again.

Yet, the more he wiped, the more tears came, and she kept crying, no matter how much he wiped away.

"Stop crying," Sylvan said in a deep voice, frowning.

As soon as he spoke, she cried even more fiercely, "Go away."

"Such a grown-up, and still crying like this, aren’t you ashamed?"

"Go away, I don’t want to see you," Jasmine punched him with her fist.

But her strength was too weak; it didn’t hurt or itch when she hit him.

Sylvan Cheney caught both her hands, continuing to wipe her tears.

"Stop it, you know I don’t like to see you cry."

"Why should I care what you like? Sylvan, what do you intend to do with me? Can’t you give me a straight answer?" Jasmine looked at him.

"Since you’re so averse to seeing me, I’ll take you away tomorrow."

"And after that? Will I always have to live in fear, on guard when you’re pleased and even more so when you’re not?"

"This time you return to Chicago, I won’t come looking for you."

"I don’t believe you, your promises are worthless to me, understand?"

Jasmine’s determined eyes met his; she had already overdrawn on his trust.

She didn’t know what else she could believe from him; he never managed to do anything right.

In the depths of Sylvan’s eyes lay profound helplessness, deep and dark, impenetrable by light.

"It’s getting late, let’s go have dinner," he helped her up, pulling her off the stool.

"I can walk by myself, don’t touch me."

Sylvan released his hold, no longer touching her.

Jasmine left the attic stumblingly, unwilling to walk with him, and dashed to the living room.

Butler Santana had already prepared a table full of dinner, for he knew both Mr. Cheney and Miss Yale were home tonight.

However, he hadn’t expected Jasmine Yale to return crying.

Jasmine rushed into the restroom.

Soon after, Butler Santana saw Mr. Cheney come in as well.

Had they argued? Both of their faces looked rather unwell.

They had been fine during the day.

Jasmine stayed in the restroom for a long time. Only after she cleaned all the tears from her face did she return to the living room.

Feeling no appetite, she said flatly, "Butler Santana, I want to drink porridge, I don’t feel like eating."

"Miss Yale, are you feeling unwell? You should eat something, if you only have porridge, you’ll be hungry in the middle of the night."

Sylvan sat opposite her and personally served her a bowl of rice: "Eat."

Jasmine didn’t say a word, silently picking up her chopsticks.