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.

The air was filled with the smell of alcohol from Sylvan Cheney, it was unbearable, Jasmine Yale frowned tightly.

"What’s in your bag, let me see..." Sylvan Cheney suddenly snatched her bag from her at her chest.

"Hey!" Jasmine Yale was caught off guard, "Give it back, don’t rummage through my bag!"

Though there wasn’t much in her bag, just some supplements, candies, hand creams, and little toys, she wasn’t used to people going through her bag.

Sylvan Cheney was like a child, curiously rummaging through her bag.

Before he could look closely, Jasmine Yale snatched it back.

"Can you behave and not make trouble?" She looked at him with dissatisfaction.

"Just a quick look..."

"There’s nothing interesting."

"What’s that yellow thing?"

"A pumpkin lantern toy, today is Halloween." Jasmine Yale said casually.

"Halloween? Trick or treat, trick or treat, give candies." Sylvan Cheney got excited and leaned closer to her.

Jasmine Yale reluctantly took out a few candies from her clothes’ pocket: "Take them, no more asking."

Sylvan Cheney actually accepted them.

Jasmine Yale felt even more speechless.

But she knew that drunk people often don’t remember what they did, otherwise Sylvan Cheney would surely want to bang his head against the wall the next day.

While she wasn’t sure what she was thinking, suddenly something sweet was stuffed into her mouth.

An orange-flavored fruit gummy.

Sylvan Cheney had peeled it and put it in her mouth.

She choked a little and had no choice but to eat it.

Perhaps because she seemed so compliant, Sylvan Cheney got into it, peeling another piece and feeding her.

This time it was grape-flavored.

However many candies she gave him, he fed her just as many pieces.

If she didn’t eat them, he’d turn nasty.

"Sylvan Cheney, that’s enough, stop it, I’m done! They’re too sweet!" Jasmine Yale reprimanded him, she had already been fed several pieces.

"Good things should go to the wife first."

"Who’s your wife? Don’t think you can be shameless just because you’re drunk."

"You’re abandoning me?" Sylvan Cheney’s hand paused in the air, looking at Jasmine Yale very innocently.

The streetlights shone through the glass window, and Jasmine Yale could clearly see every expression on his face, that expression was truly the epitome of innocence.

She almost thought that in the next second, he’d burst into tears.

Jasmine Yale choked up.

She almost thought she was bullying him.

She wanted to throw Sylvan Cheney out of the car window.

"Do you want me?" Sylvan Cheney pressed her.

"..."

"Say something."

"Yes, yes."

The light shone on Jasmine Yale’s face, she turned her head to look at Sylvan Cheney continuously.

Drunk, he was like a child, occasionally flustered.