Although Sylvan Cheney didn't respond, Jasmine Yale knew he didn't have a habit of throwing up uncontrollably.
Over the years, though he attended many gatherings, he never once vomited in the car when the driver brought him home.
Sylvan Cheney stopped drinking, leaned back in his seat, and found a comfortable position.
"When are you having the baby..."
"Me?" Jasmine Yale packed the things in her backpack, thinking he was really confused, he couldn't even remember when she was to have the baby, "The due date is January."
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Don't know."
"Then just have one of each."
"..." Jasmine Yale was speechless, "I'm not expecting twins."
"Oh, then it's your husband's fault."
"Hmm?"
"If it were me, I'd definitely have you pregnant with twins." Sylvan Cheney laughed, drunkenly.
"Shut up."
The space inside the car was cramped, and for some reason, Jasmine Yale felt very hot.
