Fated love: the unwanted bride

Chapter 243: Give Me Back My Child

Chapter 243: Chapter 243: Give Me Back My Child

Translator: 549690339

His gaze was sharp and cold, like tempered ice, emanating a chilling aura.

He glanced at her, then disappeared with the child.

“No! Give me back my child!” Jasmine Yale called after him.

But she could no longer see him nor her child!

“No… don’t… give my child back to me…”

Jasmine Yale snapped awake, bracing herself on the edges of the bathtub, forcing herself to sit up.

It was a nightmare, once again.

In these three years, she had had quite a few of these nightmares.

And each time, they were horrifying.

The bathwater had long grown cold. She was weak all over, cold sweat broke out on her forehead and her back.

She glanced at the time; it was already half-past ten in the evening.

She had soaked herself in the cold water for a long time.

She always ended up falling asleep whenever she took a bath.

For this persistent habit, Sylvan Cheney had harshly criticized her.

After all, every time she fell asleep she would catch a cold, then she would become clingy, disturbing his peace.

But she never learned from her past mistakes; she would repeat the same mistake next time.

Eventually, whenever she took a bath, Sylvan Cheney would either have someone check on her or he would simply knock forcefully on her door to remind her.

After repeating the process several times, she managed to lessen her bad habit.

But to her surprise, she did it again tonight.

And it seemed that she had caught a cold.

Jasmine Yale rubbed her nose, got out of the bathtub and wrapped a bath towel around herself.

It felt so cold, so cold.

After hastily drying her hair, Jasmine Yale jumped onto her bed.

The guest room at the Cheney Residence was fairly simple, not as luxuriously decorated as her and Sylvan’s bedroom.

Wrapped in a blanket, with no desire to sleep, she sat on the bed, playing with her phone.

She was not a particularly overthinking person, nor too sensitive, which was why Sylvan Cheney could easily manipulate her…

After playing with her phone for a while, feeling her body weaken, Jasmine Yale realized she had indeed caught a cold.

She hopped off the bed, intending to go downstairs for some medicine.

The lights downstairs were still on, brightly illuminating the room where Tomer, the housekeeper, was tidying up.

“Tomer,” Jasmine Yale carefully called, “Do you have cold medicine?”

She was always somewhat wary of Tomer, as he was not a man of many words, was older and quite serious.

Moreover, she was no longer a part of the Cheney Residence.

“Yes.” Tomer had a glance at her and then turned to leave.

Jasmine Yale poured a glass of plain boiled water and stood waiting.

It wasn’t long before Tomer returned, carrying several boxes of medicine.

“Miss Yale, there are both instant mixes and tablets, please see for yourself.”

“Thank you, Tomer.”

Jasmine Yale took the tablet type of medication as she found the instant mix too bitter.

Tomer did not leave, he instead watched her take the medicine, then said indifferently, “Miss, you no longer cry when taking medication.”

Jasmine Yale swallowed the tablet, her face a bit awkward.

Yes, she used to cry when she took medicine.

When she was younger, she was scared, as she grew older, it became a habit, for every time she cried, Sylvan Cheney would come to comfort her.

For instance, once when she had a stomachache, Sylvan Cheney had brought her medicine, but she stubbornly refused to take it.

“I won’t take it, the pills are too bitter.”

Sylvan Cheney cast her a disdainful look. “An 18-year old who’s scared of taking medicine?”

“That’s an illogical connection!” she argued.

“Take it or leave it,” Sylvan Cheney slammed down the medicine.

“I won’t take it!”

Jasmine Yale was rebellious, when Sylvan Cheney took the hard stance, she would follow suit in her obstinacy and refuse to take it.

Even if the pain was unbearable, she still refused.

She would lay on the couch, holding her stomach, crying, with sweat poured down her forehead.

One part pain, one part anger.

“It hurts…it hurts so much…”

Sylvan Cheney couldn’t stand the sight of her suffering and returned..