Chapter 2439: Chapter 2439: Sylvan Cheney, What the Hell Is Wrong with You?
Little Clementine loves watching out the window the most. Every time Jasmine Yale stands by the window, she stretches her neck to look out.
When Jasmine Yale points at the white clouds, her eyes shift to gaze at them.
When Jasmine Yale points at the building, she looks at the building—truly clever.
Butler Santana was busy all afternoon and finally finished making all the dumplings.
Sunlight streamed onto the balcony, falling on Jasmine Yale. Butler Santana watched her for a long time...
In the span of a year, Jasmine Yale has matured a lot. She’s no longer the slightly naive college student she once was.
Life really can change a person in many ways.
But such changes in Jasmine Yale made her heart ache.
In the evening, the sunset painted the sky. The white clouds and blue sky were tinged with orange. Little Clementine seemed to like this color, looking outside happily.
Suddenly, the phone at home rang, and Jasmine Yale held Little Clementine as she went to answer it.
"Hello."
"..." On the other end, silence.
"Hello?" Jasmine Yale frowned, and Little Clementine moved restlessly in discontent.
"Tonight, Lake Water restaurant, I have something to say to you."
Jasmine Yale recognized the voice—it was Sylvan Cheney.
Little Clementine kept moving in her arms, and she calmly said, "I don’t have time."
"Come over." For once, Sylvan Cheney spoke not with command but with a hint of helplessness and silence, "We won’t see each other many more times."
Jasmine Yale felt a pang in her heart; these words made her uncomfortable.
She replied coldly, "You can say whatever you want over the phone."
On the other end, there seemed to be a light chuckle: "I want to see your daughter; can that be done over the phone?"
"You want to see her, but she might not want to see you. Sometimes, people shouldn’t indulge in wishful thinking." Jasmine Yale’s voice was very cold.
Little Clementine reached to touch the phone, her fingers trying to grab the cord.
Jasmine Yale moved away, and when she couldn’t reach it, she started crying out loud.
Sylvan Cheney heard the crying, clenched his fist, and a look of wistful loss filled his eyes, unable to speak a word for a long time.
Little Clementine wouldn’t stop crying, despite any attempt to soothe her.
Jasmine Yale said calmly, "Don’t call me anymore in the future."
"Jasmine, wait." Sylvan Cheney called out, "Come over, I have something for you. If possible, bring your daughter over, or I can come to pick you up."
"Sylvan Cheney, are you sick?" Jasmine Yale couldn’t help but shout, her voice loud, tears unwillingly filling her eyes, "If you’re sick, go get treated, don’t waste my time, okay? My youth has already been exhausted by you. I don’t want any more entanglement between us, let it be like this."
The love worn out through the entire adolescence, exhausted of heart and blood, extinguished of affection.
She was no longer the pure, bright girl she once was.
Jasmine Yale hung up the phone.
Butler Santana heard the commotion and ran out from the kitchen.
"Miss Yale, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Don’t cry, you can’t cry." Butler Santana frantically picked up Little Clementine, also grabbing tissues.
Both mother and daughter were crying, especially Little Clementine, perhaps scared by Jasmine Yale’s outburst, crying louder than ever before.
Jasmine Yale wiped her eyes, stopped crying but her eyes were red and swollen.
She didn’t look at Little Clementine either, ran into the bedroom alone, and closed the door with a "bang."
Little Clementine cried even harder, her small hands persistently reaching towards the direction of the bedroom.
But no one paid attention to her, not even her mom.
