Chapter 720: Chapter 720: Is Dad Back?
Sylvan Cheney leaned his head back, a phrase suddenly leapt to mind —
A heart in haste to return home.
He recalled those years when, almost every time he came home, she would be waiting on the sofa for him.
Sometimes, she would be watching TV and eating snacks; sometimes, she would have already fallen asleep.
But there were also a few times when he couldn’t find her at home upon his return.
The two feelings were entirely distinct.
Some things, some sentiments were unconsciously buried in time and grew silently.
By the time they burst from the shell of the heart, they were firmly rooted, beyond any change.
One could consider it a habit, or an obsession.
The car continued to drive forward and, as they nearly reached the villa, Sylvan Cheney dialed Jasmine Yale’s number on his phone.
“Why did you only just return my call, Mr. Cheney? Is it really you? Is it?”
Before he even had a chance to answer, a flustered voice came from the other end.
“Stand by the door, wait for me for three minutes.” Sylvan Cheney spoke slowly.
On the other end, Jasmine Yale was stunned.
A peculiar sensation passed through her heart…
When she regained herself, Jasmine Yale hastily slipped on her flip-flops and ran out, heading to the door!
It was his voice, without a doubt—too familiar.
It was deep, restrained, and rich.
“Jasy, where are you going?” Little Chale was having breakfast on his chair, seeing Jasmine Yale running toward the door, he also wanted to jump down.
Jasy couldn’t run off…
Jasmine Yale ran out of the living room as if she hadn’t heard Little Chale’s voice.
The fog outside was heavy, casting a grey pall over the world.
Looking out, only white fog, bare trees, and the long road could be seen.
“Miss Yale, Miss Yale!” The maid also ran out, “Put on your coat, it’s too cold out there, the wind is very strong!”
The maid was holding a coat in her hand.
The outside was not like the living room with its heating, the wind was howling outside.
Chale Cheney barely made it to the door when the maid stopped him: “Young master, don’t go out, it’s cold.”
“No, I want Jasy!” Little Chale stretched out a hand, straining to reach forward.
Jasmine Yale stood at the door, craning her neck to look down the road.
Was he okay? He hadn’t encountered a landslide, had he?
She was afraid of seeing an injured Sylvan Cheney again. Last time when he came back heavily wounded, she couldn’t describe her feelings.
What about this time?
Nothing will happen to him.
But why didn’t he answer her phone calls yesterday? She had made no less than fifty calls.
Jasmine Yale stood in the wind; her hair tousled by the northerly gusts.
She squinted slightly, gazing anxiously down the road, her eyes flickering in anticipation.
“Miss Yale.” The maid draped the coat over her, “Is Mr. Cheney coming home?”
“Yeah.” Jasmine Yale stared at the road ahead.
“Miss Yale, change your shoes when we go back in. Mr. Cheney would worry if he saw you came out in your slippers.” The maid knew just how well Sylvan Cheney treated Jasmine Yale.
Jasmine Yale shook her head slightly.
He said three minutes. There wouldn’t be time to change her shoes.
Chale Cheney wriggled free of the maid’s grip, slipped out from under her arm like a small worm, and rompingly ran to Jasmine Yale’s side.
The wind was so strong that his little face turned red soon as he came out.
“Mmm, Jasy, is daddy coming home? Is he?” Chale Cheney tugged at the hem of Jasmine Yale’s clothes.
“Little one, quickly go back inside, it’s too cold out here. Go back in.” Jasmine Yale said affectionately.
“No, daddy’s coming home. I want to wait for daddy.” Chale Cheney shook his head stubbornly.
His big eyes blinking, full of expectation.