After returning home for a few days, Jasmine Yale didn’t help Sylvan Cheney with the amusement park plans anymore because he seemed to have lost hope in it. Every time she brought it up, he showed no interest, only saying he was busy with other work.

If he didn’t care about his affairs, why should she?

Saturday afternoon.

Jasmine Yale called Sylvan Cheney again.

"President, are you busy? It’s Saturday." Her voice was calm, even with a hint of amusement.

"I’m at the construction site in the southern suburbs, checking on the progress. I’ll have to go to an exhibition later."

"So busy, I was going to ask you to dinner tonight. I wanted to eat..."

"The construction site is quite dangerous, not really suitable for a call. I’ll hang up now and call you back when I’m done." On the other end, Sylvan Cheney’s voice was a bit low.

"Okay." Jasmine Yale didn’t say much more and let the call end.

The sky was getting darker; winter days were already short. Jasmine Yale sat silently on the balcony, holding her phone, watching the sunset slowly descend.

She didn’t know if it was a delusion, but she felt that Sylvan Cheney had become more invested in James Group’s branch affairs during this time, and his work had become much busier than before.

After all, men live for their careers, and he’s no different.

Since she moved back home from his apartment, they hadn’t met, and they barely exchanged a few words even when they called.

The last rays of the sun fell on her face, casting a light orange hue over her fair complexion.

Half the river shimmered, half blazed red.

The corners of the surrounding buildings seemed smoothed, and the bare branches appeared particularly stark.

Jasmine Yale sat alone on the balcony as the night fell, but she forgot to turn on the lights.

"Miss Yale, why are you sitting here all the time?" Butler Santana came back and was startled to see the lone figure on the balcony.

Butler Santana was genuinely startled.

Anyway, she thought Jasmine Yale was very lonely. A normal person, if too lonely, might develop symptoms of depression, let alone a pregnant woman.

And Jasmine Yale often enjoyed being alone.

Butler Santana quickly turned on the lights.

With the lights on, the bedroom was much brighter.

Jasmine Yale turned her head: "You’re back, Butler Santana."

"Yes, it’s getting late, how about a walk tonight? Where’s Mr. Cheney? Didn’t he come over today?"

"He has plans with me tonight. I’ll be heading out soon, don’t worry."

"That’s good, then." Butler Santana sighed with relief, "So are you heading out now, or will he come to pick you up..."

"I’ll take a taxi there. We planned to have a meal together."

"Okay, okay."

Jasmine Yale stood up and took a coat from the wardrobe and put it on.

Butler Santana helped her tidy her bag and hair, while complimenting, "Miss Yale, your skin is so nice, beautiful even without makeup. Miss Yale, your baby with Mr. Cheney will definitely be very good-looking."

"His father is handsome."

"You’re beautiful too."

Jasmine Yale smiled.

Being with Butler Santana made her feel at ease.

She didn’t want Butler Santana to worry about anything.

After a little bit of dressing up, Jasmine Yale left with her bag.

She hadn’t actually made plans with Sylvan Cheney; she just didn’t want Butler Santana to worry.

Once outside, it was completely dark.

She wandered alone with her bag along the pathway in the community, following the road to the outside.

With a scarf on, she didn’t feel too cold, but the chilly wind made her eyes uncomfortable.