Fated love: the unwanted bride

Sylvan Cheney had his back to her, his face unreadable.

However, she could feel the chill emanating from him.

It was cold, even colder than the autumn night.

With one hand on the stair railing, Yolanda Fern hesitated before speaking: “I’m leaving tomorrow, take care of yourself. I don’t know when we’ll meet again.”

Her face was pale, and she pressed a hand to her chest.

“If you truly have affection for Chale, you can adopt him as your godson,” Sylvan said casually.

He didn’t turn his head, his gaze settling on the wall ahead.

Yolanda, her hand over her heart, smiled a bitter, mocking smile…

A godson.

Ha, a godson.

“Sylvan, I am fond of Chale, indeed, and he is fond of me too. Tonight, he grabbed my hand and called me ‘mom’. He’s so young, it’s pitiful…abandoned by his biological parents at birth.”

Yolanda’s voice faltered, two tears slipping from her eyes.

“Don’t take the words of a child so seriously.”

Yolanda looked up at the cold silhouette of Sylvan’s back and his erect spine.

This man, who held the power over Landon, was far colder and indifferent than she had imagined.

“Well Sylvan, get some sleep early, I’ll return to Lonton early tomorrow.”

In Yolanda’s eyes was a bottomless disappointment.

“I will see you off tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Sylvan moved down the stairs, and continued until he reached his bedroom door.

Yolanda watched as his figure disappeared before her, and she nearly collapsed.

She was naturally delicate and frail, and at this moment, she felt especially helpless and lost.

She remained standing on the stairs for a long time before finally moving towards the living room.

She was going to talk to Tomer the butler.

“Tomer, are you in bed yet?”

Hearing Yolanda’s voice, Tomer, who was just about to turn off the lights, got out of bed.

“Miss Yolanda,” Tomer greeted respectfully.

Yolanda gave a faint smile, her lips somewhat pale.

“Miss Yolanda, come inside, it’s cold out there. Why are you dressed so lightly? You’re delicate, you should dress warmly,” Tomer said worriedly.

“I’m fine, every day I survive now is a bonus,” Yolanda replied, shaking her head bitterly.

Tomer closed the door, blocking the chill outside.

“Miss Yolanda, don’t talk like that, you can recover, Chale is still waiting for you to take care of him,” Tomer said with a smile.

Yolanda didn’t object; perhaps, in Tomer’s mind, Chale was her biological child.

“Miss Yolanda, why aren’t you sleeping? You shouldn’t stay up late.”

“Tomer, I just want to talk to you. I haven’t seen you in so many years, and I’ve been missing you every day while I was abroad,” Yolanda settled beside Tomer, “seeing you now, you’re still as kind as before, and you treat me so well.”

Tomer patted her head: “Silly girl, if I’m not good to you then who should I treat well? You’re gentle by nature, both the mistress and I favour you.”

Saying this, Tomer heaved a sigh.

Only the mistress… had long since passed away.

Yolanda shook her head, a bitter smile played on her lips.

“Silly girl, did Mr. Cheney bully you?”

“No, Sylvan didn’t bully me,” Yolanda denied.

“You can’t fool me; whenever you lie, your face turns red. You’re a terrible liar,” Tomer sighed again, “You’re a silly girl. I’m sure Mr. Cheney cares for you, but he’s just not good at expressing it, don’t take it to heart.”

Yolanda shook her head.

“When you’re feeling better, come back to the country more often. After all, you’re in Lonton, and you two are always so far apart, which isn’t good..”