The doctor had been waiting in the medical office for Sylvan Cheney and Jasmine Yale.
Jasmine Yale nervously clutched Sylvan Cheney's hand, her palm sweaty. "I'm scared."
"Don't be. I'm here."
Jasmine's eyes reddened. If only he had been here a few years ago… How wonderful that would have been.
Her hands trembled.
She still remembered the moment she was pinned down on the operating table, the only person she could think of in her heart was Sylvan Cheney.
But at that time, he hadn't contacted her for a full seven months.
Seven months… She had faced suspension from school, morning sickness, sleepless nights, constant caution, and even scorn—all alone.
Especially when she came to the obstetrics and gynecology department for checkups, seeing pregnant women accompanied by someone, she would often smile foolishly, a smile tinged with envy.
Thinking of this, Jasmine's hand turned icy, and her pupils seemed to lose focus.
