Fated love: the unwanted bride-Chapter 2122: Little Tagalong

She really couldn’t understand the Sylvan Cheney after his memory loss, changing faces like the weather, resembling a teenager full of anxiety.

It wasn’t surprising though, he had never pursued anyone; he had always been the one pursued.

Half-asleep, her phone vibrated once.

Jasmine Yale, too sleepy to move, turned over and continued to sleep.

Unexpectedly, the phone kept ringing incessantly by the pillow as if it were urgent.

She had no choice but to stretch out her hand from the covers, barely open her eyes, and stealthily unlock the phone for fear of waking Chale Cheney.

It was a slew of messages from Sylvan Cheney; Jasmine Yale skimmed through them from start to finish.

"Jasmine Yale, you’re really heartless and promiscuous."

"Jasmine Yale, do you feel a sense of accomplishment now? I waited for you for two hours, yet you really didn’t come out."

"Jasmine Yale, won’t you even reply to my messages?"

"Jasmine Yale, fine, you go with Yukon Carbon then. Do you think I want to be your child’s cheap dad? Little burden!"

"Jasmine Yale, not replying to me? I won’t ever take the initiative to text you again!"

Jasmine Yale yawned, her hand too tired to lift, groggily scanning through, realizing he was indeed full of grievances.

The once laconic and composed Sylvan Cheney was now... so irritable.

Jasmine Yale, too sleepy to keep her eyes open, replied with a few words: Sylvan Cheney, do you want back the gifts you gave me? Breakups should have a ritual, and this is what others do.

Jasmine Yale had never been in a relationship, naturally never broken up.

But she heard breakups should have a ritual. Does that mean returning gifts?

The other end received Jasmine Yale’s message and quickly replied: Give everything back to me!

"..." Jasmine Yale gazed at the sky.

She replied: Fine, wait for me to return, I’ll give everything back to you. Don’t text me again, I’m sleeping.

After sending, Jasmine Yale turned off the phone.

The red string bracelet Sylvan Cheney gave her was still on her left wrist; she gently touched it before slipping back into the blankets to sleep.

Chale Cheney seemed cold, curled up in a ball, snuggling over to Jasmine Yale.

Jasmine Yale quickly hugged his hand, warming it for him.

That sleep, Jasmine Yale didn’t rest well; the baby in her belly was restless, waking her several times at night.

The rain outside continued to fall; Lonton being a rainy city, the rain often drizzled continuously without warning.

The whole night, Jasmine Yale could hear the lingering sound of rain, mixed with wind, and the rustling of branches.

The villa was nestled among hills, far removed from the city, very peaceful, with a splendid environment.

Such a place easily engenders attachment.

The next morning, before dawn, Jasmine Yale woke up.

The little one in her arms was rosy-cheeked, with a chubby face, making Jasmine Yale plant a kiss.

She quietly got up, skillfully washing up, then went to the kitchen to make breakfast for Chale Cheney.

"Miss Yale, you’re a guest, let me do it," the butler hurriedly said.

"It’s fine, I’m rarely here, and Chale Cheney likes the snacks I make, so I’ll make some for him."

It was still pitch dark outside; looking out from the kitchen window, only the silhouettes of tall trees swayed in the wind.

Outside, you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.

Inside the villa, it was also quiet, with lights illuminated everywhere; if you calmed down, you could even hear the gentle murmur of the garden’s fountain, jingling faintly.

Chale Cheney’s grandmaster rose early, heading to the training ground first thing for some boxing.