Chapter 432: Don’t Dwell on the Past, Don’t Long for the Future
Jasmine Yale couldn’t identify the feeling in her heart.
The rain outside continued to pour. Since she’d returned home, she had opened a bottle of wine.
Lately, she was drinking a little too much.
It was perhaps because the wine Joe Heath gave her was so good, she often found herself wanting to drink more.
As soon as the cork was popped, the aroma of wine filled the air.
The red liquid slid down the transparent walls of the wine glass. Jasmine sat in a hanging basket by the window, her gaze fixed on the world outside, seemingly numb.
The night soon wrapped the entire city.
Outside the window, there was only the rain and the city lights.
Resting her head, Jasmine sipped at her wine.
A soft veil of mist appeared in her clear eyes, alike the foggy rain outside the window.
After a while, her eyes drooped, and her long lashes fluttered slightly.
Lifting her head, she drained all the wine in the glass.
One glass was not enough, so came another.
She didn’t dwell on the past nor thought about the future.
However, why did her heart incessantly throb, as though a needle kept pricking her?
It was such an annoying feeling.
She didn’t want to feel this way at all.
Jasmine drained another glass of wine.
The best thing about alcohol was its ability to numb the nerves.
After finishing her wine, she could sleep, and after waking, it would feel like nothing ever happened.
But people had to suffer a little; after all, the hangover was always dreadful.
When Jasmine had finished three glasses of red wine, she threw open the window, a rush of heat overcame her.
The cold wind gushed inside.
Rain streaks hit her face, icy cold.
“It’s raining… I want to go home…”
Jasmine squinted her eyes, lost in a daze as she looked outside.
She reached out her hand, the raindrops hit her palm, spreading through the lines of her hand.
The cold wind did little to sober her.
She drank another glass, until she fell to the ground, thoroughly drunk.
The wind swept through the apartment, scattering the blank papers on the table.
In her drunken dream, Jasmine thought, if she could go back, she would change one sunny afternoon.
Although the lollipop tasted good, it was poisonous.
Jasmine laughed in her dreams, it was poisonous.
Silly girl, getting tricked by a piece of lollipop.
When Sylvan Cheney opened the door to the apartment, he was faced with a scene that made him frown.
Jasmine Yale was lying on the balcony floor, her neck and clothes stained with wine.
The floor was littered with broken wine bottles and glasses, shards scattered everywhere.
The balcony window was open; the wind blew forcefully into the apartment, spreading the scattered white papers on the floor.
Sylvan Cheney swiftly closed the door, an undeniable annoyance and a surge of emotions apparent on his face.
His eyes flashed, and he strode towards the balcony.
Jasmine laid there, her body ice-cold, her face stained with tears, like a wilted rose.
“This wine is really good…”
She murmured softly, her hand restlessly clawing the ground.
“I’ll tell you a story, will you listen…”
“This story is really good…”
“Once upon a time, there was a mountain…”
Jasmine continued to babble.
Sylvan picked her up from the floor and carried her all the way to the bathroom.
“Jasmine Yale, look at yourself!”
Sylvan’s eyes flashed with annoyance as he forcefully pushed her into the sink.
Jasmine faintly heard someone calling her name and opened her eyes—
There stood a man in a neat suit, tall and young, exceptionally handsome.
But… he was so fierce.
“Why are you so fierce, who are you…Nobody dares to scold me…I can walk sideways in this world…”