Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 995 - Chapter 995 Chapter 995 Sudden Fate

Chapter 995: Chapter 995: Sudden Fate Chapter 995: Chapter 995: Sudden Fate What had to come eventually arrived.

On that day, Sylvan Cheney was incredibly calm, his face bearing a maturity and indifference that belied his age.

Throughout the entire process, he didn’t cry, but remained as still as a pool of water, undisturbed.

He handled Qiana Childe’s funeral arrangements coolly and composedly, his fourteen-year-old shoulders bearing an immensely heavy burden.

It was then that Teagan Cheney finally came.

He saw Qiana Childe for the last time, said nothing, arriving in a hurry and leaving just as quickly.

Sylvan didn’t call him “Father” again.

Spencer Childe also came; he constantly blamed him for not taking good care of his mother, for not looking after her, and grew increasingly distant from him.

Moreover, being Teagan Cheney’s son and carrying his blood, Spencer felt even less fondness for him.

Just like that, in a short amount of time, Sylvan Cheney found himself abandoned by everyone, left with nothing.

His young shoulders took on all the responsibilities.

Each night, the weight pressed on him so heavily that he struggled to breathe.

He also became more reticent, less inclined to speak.

Not many months later, he met Jasmine Yale.

The eight-year-old girl was like a dazzling light, brightening his gloomy life.

He was without a father or a mother, and so was she.

This sudden connection came as a downpour on a quiet spring night, intricate and relentless.

Charles McIntosh paid his respects to his father, then approached Sylvan Cheney.

The cemetery was densely packed with gravestones, a sight that was shocking to behold.

Charles knew that Sylvan was feeling very repressed inside, as was he.

But this accident was irreversible; once it had happened, it had happened.

Nobody had the power to turn back time.

“Mr. Cheney, it’s very hot outside, let’s go back,” Charles sighed, Sylvan had been standing here for half an hour.

Sylvan was silent, not speaking.

His eyes a deep hue, devoid of light, his stern face now also marked by restraint and depth.

Charles didn’t know what Sylvan was thinking about; in these matters, Sylvan had always been extremely secretive.

The sunlight shone directly down, casting a pale golden layer on Sylvan’s face.

“Mr. Cheney, you came. Why didn’t you let me know?” Just then, Tomer the butler came from a nearby house in the cemetery.

Tomer had aged significantly.

More white hair, more wrinkles.

Charles stepped forward to greet him: “Tomer.”

“Oh, why didn’t you let me know so I could have prepared?”

“Just came for a walk,” Charles lowered his voice.

It was very quiet here; no one dared to speak loudly.

Tomer sighed, his gaze also falling on Qiana Childe’s gravestone.

She had served Qiana Childe for many years, even deeming Qiana’s kindness so grand that she never married, always staying at the Cheney Residence.

Now, she still accompanied Qiana at the cemetery.

The wind blew, the green grass trembled, and the air was filled with a somber aura.

“Mr. Cheney, are you missing your mother? If so, come walk here. I had a dream a few days ago. I dreamt the miss really missed you. Mr. Cheney, when you have time, come accompany your mother,” Tomer sighed.

“Mmm,” Sylvan responded.

He was raised by his mother; he had a unique affection for Qiana Childe.

Deep, intense.

Even after so many years, this affection was still strong, and had not dissipated over time.

“Mr. Cheney, it’s hot outside, I’ll go get you a glass of water,” Tomer said.

“No need, I’ll just stand for a bit and then leave,” Sylvan declined flatly.

He had simply felt a sudden urge to see Qiana Childe, so he had come.

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