Jasmine Yale waited eagerly until nightfall, sitting alone at the dining table, propping her cheek in one hand, and tapping on the table with the other.
This time Sylvan Cheney came home with a green tote bag.
Jasmine's eyes lit up, she ran over: "You're back."
"Hmm."
As usual, she took his coat and handed him his slippers.
Still, her gaze lingered on the bag in his hand for a few seconds.
The light green tote was dreamy and exquisite.
Jasmine didn't know if it was a gift for her.
She eagerly looked at his hand: "Is that a gift for me?"
Sylvan carried the bag to the sofa: "Yes."
"Can I take a look?" Jasmine hopped over, sitting beside him, her eyes brimming with anticipation.
"Eat first."
"Oh."
Jasmine always tended to listen to him, but she didn't know why he would bring her a gift today.
Today wasn't any special day.
"I have something to tell you," said Jasmine, picking up a rib calmly.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
