Then, someone laughed as if playing a mischievous prank.
It was a faint smile, but it left Jasmine Yale stunned.
She seldom saw Sylvan Cheney smile. Even during the twelve years they had spent together, he rarely smiled.
Since she met him, he seemed to carry a heavy burden.
On the rare occasions when he did smile, the smile was fleeting and faint, barely noticeable.
But each time, she would leap with joy, feeling as if she had found a treasured possession.
That's what it felt like to love someone. Every time he smiled, she felt as if the whole world became brighter and more splendid, like fireworks lighting up the sky.
Regrettably, he didn't often smile.
Resuming her focus, Jasmine tried to avoid him.
"Mr. Cheney, you really are drunk."
If he weren't drunk, he wouldn't say such things to her, a stranger.
If he weren't drunk, he wouldn't forget his status as a married man with kids.
If he wasn't drunk, he wouldn't be flirting with her or making such affectionate gestures!
