After dinner, Sylvan Cheney habitually took out a cigarette.
Jasmine Yale quickly said, "Don't smoke, I'm pregnant."
"Oh." Only then did Sylvan Cheney put the cigarette away.
Jasmine Yale bowed her head to tidy up the dishes. Her black hair hung over her shoulders, her fair collarbone exposed, and as she occasionally bent down, her chest was faintly visible under the loose neckline.
Sylvan Cheney caught a glimpse, his throat moved, and he irritably turned his head away.
In the room, only the faint sounds of Jasmine Yale tidying up could be heard.
"All done." Jasmine Yale cheerfully packed up the bag, "I'm planning to..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Sylvan Cheney opened his wallet and pulled out a few bills to press onto the table.
Jasmine Yale's smile froze on her face, her hair slightly disheveled, and her breath a bit unsteady.
She stopped smiling and looked at Sylvan Cheney with her big eyes.
