The sunlight filtered through the window, casting a lazy afternoon glow as Sweet Kitty lounged on the windowsill.
She sat in a chair, watching the store and reading a book while her little daughter sat beside her, playing with the cat.
Her daughter naturally resembled her, surely having big eyes and long lashes, very cute and adorable.
But hopefully she wouldn't inherit her tendency to cry.
He had always known what she wanted.
Because he understood so clearly, he was certain he couldn't give it to her.
Since he couldn't provide, why not let her go?
Jasmine Yale fell silent for a few seconds, her small head resting against his chest, as if asking him or herself, "With whom should I have one..."
Sylvan Cheney didn't respond.
Jasmine Yale's mind was somewhat fuzzy—such a scenario, she had never even considered it.
Sylvan Cheney rubbed her head. "Tired?"
"Not tired."
"Oh, still want to talk to me?"
"Do you want to talk to me?" Jasmine Yale didn't answer him, she countered.
