Chapter 1092: Chapter 1092: The Feeling of Being a Father Chapter 1092: Chapter 1092: The Feeling of Being a Father The kiss lasted a long time.

After he’d had enough, he let her go, pressing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place.

Jasmine Yale looked up, her eyes red and swollen, and cursed softly, “You never change.”

Sylvan Cheney: “…”

After speaking, Jasmine Yale shook off his hand and walked back to the bedroom on the carpet.

With a “bang,” she closed the bedroom door.

Jasmine Yale sat angrily on the bed, hugging her knees and sitting on the soft blanket, with an erratic shimmer in her eyes.

In front of her was a white wall, her gaze drifted to it, silent.

Her lips carried his scent, Agarwood Fragrance mixed with tobacco.

Jasmine Yale broke into a sweat, her heart still raced when he kissed her.

Her mind was a mess, the more she thought, the more confused she became.

Jasmine Yale simply stopped thinking, took off her sweater, and pulled up the covers.

Sylvan Cheney hadn’t gone anywhere, he was standing on the balcony smoking.

The smoke dispersed with the wind, drifting into the rain.

Since coming to Cakago, he hadn’t smoked much, just occasionally in hotels.

But back in Landon, he truly smoked excessively.

He washed the dishes Jasmine Yale had left in the sink and even checked on Sweet Kitty a couple of times.

These mundane, tedious tasks now felt smooth and even interesting.

In the past, he had been too busy.

Jasmine Yale napped, and he too sat on the living room sofa for a while.

She had eaten one of the chocolates he’d given her, and as for the card, it seemed she had put it away.

Sylvan Cheney rubbed his temples, his eyes showing slight fatigue.

Succumbing to post-lunch drowsiness, Sylvan Cheney leaned back and also dozed off.

Such an afternoon, lengthy and tranquil.

They were not disturbing each other, one sleeping in the bedroom, the other in the living room, yet they were close at hand.

Sylvan Cheney slept soundly, as did Jasmine Yale.

Sylvan Cheney couldn’t remember how he had survived those three years away from Landon, filled with nothing but slaughter and gore, nicotine, and alcohol.

The only bright spot was Chale Cheney.

The little one’s babbling and smiles brought him tremendous comfort.

He had never experienced what it felt like to be a father until he did, and then he realized it was an extraordinary feeling.

When the little one crawled around and suddenly called him “Daddy,” he probably felt…everything was worth it.

In a drowsy haze, Sylvan Cheney suddenly missed the little one a bit.

The rain outside was pattering, while inside was quiet and still.

A rare peaceful time.

…

For the afternoon lecture, Sylvan Cheney and Jasmine Yale arrived early.

Since arriving in Cakago, he had been recklessly making public appearances anywhere he pleased.

This would have been impossible back home.

Jasmine Yale followed him, unable to stop him anyway.

The lecture took place in an auditorium capable of holding hundreds of people, and Jasmine Yale chose seats towards the back, sitting next to Sylvan Cheney.

With the crowd, indeed no one noticed them.

The lecture was about the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, and Jasmine Yale listened and took notes.

Sylvan Cheney wasn’t very interested; his only interest seemed to be sitting by her side.

This was the first time he saw Jasmine Yale in a lecture environment, serious, occasionally bowing her head to take notes, occasionally biting on the cap of her ballpoint pen.

Her big eyes were filled with a strong desire for knowledge, sparkling fiercely, like stars in the sky.

Brilliant, dazzling, bright.

With a slight flutter of her long eyelashes, she looked even more beautiful.