After that day, Jasmine Yale smoothly remained at James Group, but she never saw Sylvan Cheney again.
She and he were like two lines without intersections, occasionally entwined because of work, but mostly parallel.
Her belly grew bigger, yet the baby was lively and healthy.
Whenever she thought of the unborn child, her heart always rippled with waves of gentle tenderness.
The tenderness was like cherry blossom petals on a spring day, gently falling, creating a whole field of softness.
Every time she thought of the child in her belly, she would become patient and meticulous.
On this Saturday, Jasmine Yale was lounging at home in bed, unexpectedly receiving a call from Charles Mcintosh.
"Miss Yale, where are you? I've arrived in Cakago."
Jasmine Yale quickly got out of bed: "Mr. Mcintosh? I'm at home, where are you? I'll come pick you up."
"No need, I'm still at the airport," Charles Mcintosh's voice was calm, "the café near your school, let's meet there."
