Fated love: the unwanted bride

Chapter 719: Chapter 719 He attributes this feeling to ‘longing

Could five years grind a person into another appearance?

If it wasn’t for her unchanged face, and the obstinacy in her eyes, he wondered… would he even recognize her now?

“Recently,” Sylvan Cheney replied softly, lowering his head.

“Oh.” Charles Mcintosh nodded, not asking further questions.

There seemed to be a hand clenching his heart, making his breathing slightly rapid.

His pulse was pounding intensively. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

With a steady expression, Sylvan Cheney looked through the report in his hand.

“Mr. Cheney, I’ll stay here. You haven’t slept all night, you should get some rest,” said Charles Mcintosh, then added, “Or go back and check on Miss Yale and the young master. Miss Yale thought something had happened to you. She must be very upset.”

“Hmm.”

Charles Mcintosh knew that Sylvan Cheney had been worryingly preoccupied with Yolanda Fern and Chris Fern’s matters during these last few days, and he didn’t sleep last night.

“I will assign more people to cover the hospital, nothing will go wrong. About Chris Fern’s condition, I’ll keep you informed,” said Charles Mcintosh.

“Alright.” Sylvan Cheney closed the report and handed it over to Charles Mcintosh, “I will go back to the villa first.”

“I will call the driver.”

“No need, I’ll drive myself.”

“Then be careful on the way, the smog outside it’s still pretty heavy and it has not dissipated,” Charles Mcintosh warned.

Sylvan Cheney nodded, picked up the car keys, and went downstairs.

Truly, the fog outside had not dissipated. Everywhere it was dense with white fog, mixed with yellow sand.

The color of the entire city was dull yellow, no sun in sight, even the clouds in the sky were gray, swaying in the wind.

Visibility was incredibly low.

Sylvan Cheney drove particularly cautiously, moving at a very slow speed.

From the time he appeared in the Cheney Group to now, it was less than an hour.

The black Rolls-Royce moved through the fog, and white frost quickly formed on the window glass.

The weather today was very cold, and the wind was strong too, the air pressure was exceptionally low, as if it could start raining at any time.

The withered trees on the side of the road swayed in the wind, the northern wind swept the dry leaves across the ground, producing a “whoosh” sound.

Yellow sand filled the air, dark clouds covered the sky.

The journey from the hospital to the villa would take fifty minutes by car.

Sylvan Cheney glanced at his wristwatch, it was eight in the morning.

His slender fingers skillfully moved the steering wheel, his heart filled with an indescribable sensation.

He attributed this sensation to “longing.”

He has not seen her for several days, and he missed her more than he thought he would.

He remembered those twelve years, when he was on business trips, every return journey from the airport to home, her face frequently appeared in his mind.

His current feelings were very much like those years.

Stoplight.

Sylvan Cheney stopped the car, his brow furrowed slightly.

His left hand propped up his head, his right hand rested on the steering wheel, his well-defined fingers lightly tapping.

His eyes, which slightly chilled gradually, looked ahead.

Visibility was still shrouded by the dense fog, making it difficult to see far ahead.

Memories abruptly shifted back to the cold winter three years ago.

Time before the New Year.

For the last time of the lunar year, he was on a business trip, and he finally arrived at Landon International Airport the day before New Year’s Eve.

During the journey, she made many calls to him, repeatedly confirming the arrival time of his flight.

She told him that she had been on winter vacation for more than ten days, and he was still not back home.@@novelbin@@

Her voice was full of grievances, like an abandoned doll.

When he heard her grievance-filled voice, it stirred up an indescribable feeling in his heart, making his heart ache.

He arrived at the airport at eleven o’clock at night. The journey from the airport back to the Cheney Residence was also engulfed by heavy fog.

His mood at that time was just like now.