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Before, she had once worn his white shirt.

It had been raining for several days and nights then, and her sleepwear was still wet, yet she urgently needed something to wear.

An idea struck her and she rushed into his room to grab a white shirt.

It was a summer night, and after showering, she wore his shirt as pajamas and sat on the living room couch—

Snacking and watching television while waiting for him.

At that time, he was always late coming home from business meetings.

That day was no different, the living room door only opened past midnight.

She had already fallen asleep, slumped on the sofa, a bag of snacks still in her hand.

However, the snacks had been spilled all over the floor!

She vaguely remembers being carried back to her room by him.

Groggily opening her eyes, she noticed his gaze was different from usual, as if…a little heated, his body feeling unusually warm.

She assumed he had drunk too much and kindly advised, “Mr. Cheney, you should drink less next time.”

His gaze fell on her clothes, his eyes held back and restrained.

No sooner had she finished her sentence than he left.

She was so tired that as soon as he was gone, she fell asleep.

Jasmine Yale thought for a moment, she was nineteen then.

“Is it that difficult to pick out clothes?”

Jasmine Yale jumped, pulling her hand back. “Mr. Cheney, can you not scare people from behind?”

Sylvan Cheney put his MacBook back on the desk and replied indifferently, “This is my room.”

“I know.” Jasmine said with a blank face, “Mr. Cheney, have you thrown away all my old clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then never mind.” Jasmine abandoned the idea of picking clothes.

Sylvan Cheney picked a bottle of red wine from the rack and uncorked it.

Just as he was about to pour the wine, seeing her leave, he said impatiently, “A wardrobe full of clothes and there’s nothing you like?”

“Aren’t these your wife’s clothes…”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Then I’d rather not wear them. After all, once I’ve worn them, you’ll throw them away anyway. Seems too wasteful.”

After all, they were all expensive.

The price tags were still attached to these clothes! The cheapest one was worth her annual salary.

“I am not short of money.”

“Really?” Jasmine looked at him, “Then I won’t be polite.”

Jasmine picked out the most expensive sleepwear and took it off the hanger.

However, all the sleepwear in this wardrobe seemed quite sexy, some with lace, some off-the-shoulder, ultra-short…”

Sylvan Cheney, he only appears to be serious on the outside.

These sleepwear that he had prepared for his wife were really…hot.

But she couldn’t meddle with a couple’s affairs.

“Thank you.” She grabbed the sleepwear and left.

Sylvan Cheney did not say anything more and closed the door.

Fearing that she might wake up Little Chaley, Jasmine headed for the separate bathroom in the Cheney Residence to take a shower.

The autumn night was neither hot nor cold, just right.

Turning on the shower, she started by washing her hair.

Three years since she had been here, everything was as she remembered it, unchanged.

Even the bathroom had a fresh jasmine scent.

The hot water cascaded over her face, and she closed her eyes.

What if she hadn’t gotten drunk three years ago? What if she hadn’t made that mistake? Would things be different?

She was still the young mistress of the Cheney Residence, Sylvan Cheney already married to Yolanda Fern, she could still come and go freely at the Cheney Residence, and still be cherished immensely.

In that case, she would never know how ruthlessly cold Sylvan Cheney could be.

His ruthlessness applied to everyone, including her.

In that case, he would still be a holy figure in her heart, and her, despite secretly fancying him, could only let go..