My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Silence blanketed the cabin. Except for two expressionless bodyguards sitting there like the background board, only Stanford and Phoebe were left there.

Stanford pressed his thin lips, looking at Phoebe with a complicated expression.

He frowned in regret and his mind was messy. He had heard what Addison complained just now.

He wondered if it was because he failed to coax Phoebe so he felt so irritated and angry right now.

Was it because of her?

Stanford shook his head in disbelief. He denied it. He wouldn’t ever become like this because of a woman.

He was sure that Addison was bullshitting because he was unhappy.

Stanford gritted his teeth, unwilling to insist on thinking about this topic. He directly looked away.

The cabin became completely quiet.

Phoebe was looked out of the window, and Stanford was staring at his tablet.

They didn’t interact with each other at all as if they were strangers sitting in the same cabin, and they would part after getting off the jet and not meet again.

Phoebe looked out of the window in silence, feeling sadder, bitterer, and lonelier.

She also realized more clearly that after they got off the jet and she met Florence, the last moment of goodbye would come.

No matter how many feelings she was feeling, there wouldn’t be any chance at all.

She felt helpless, and she felt more futile.

Stanford operated on his tablet, working on something that would gape Addison.

After twenty minutes, a helicopter flew over, flying in parallel with the private jet at the same speed.

Later, after they communicated with each other, the hatch doors were opened at the same time.

Feeling the wind flown into the cabin, Phoebe raised her head in confusion.

In a surprise, she saw Addison standing at the hatch door, pulling a rope.

She wondered what they were doing.

In confusion. Phoebe peered out of the window.

two ropes, on which a

the casserole was moving

at them, an unreliable conjecture rising

delivering the tonic soup to

way too... luxurious, wasn’t

wondered who could be so imaginative to figure out such

was obtained safely.

tray, on which there was a bowl of soup,

of Phoebe and said, “Miss Jenkins, please drink the soup while it’s warm. It’s quite good for your

her, Phoebe couldn’t believe that her ridiculous

tonic soup was

complicated look, she held the bowl of tonic soup that

gratefully, “Thank you

with a smile, “I didn’t come up with the idea. Mr. Fraser arranged it in person. Miss Jenkins, if you want to thank someone,

smile, Addison cast a glance at Stanford meaningfully and walked forward in

not to be the third

It turned out Mr. Fraser had finally become smart.

was such a big effort that showed his romantic care, Addison was sure that Miss Jenkins must be quite

Mr. Fraser was a master looks like a fool. When he truly cared about someone,

the soup bowl in her

got to know that the tonic soup

Stanford who personally arranged such an

twinkling. She looked at him with a puzzled

that she wanted to ask something but didn’t. He

a stuffy tone, “I have a lot of helicopters. It’s just a piece of cake. Hurry up to drink your soup. It’s

the door of the operation cabin,

that Mr.

At least, Addison had never seen Stanford use a helicopter to deliver the tonic soup to another person, not to

Phoebe’s sparkling eyes instantly

piece of cake for Stanford as long as he gave a

herself was so

the soup bowl tightly, she whispered,

she bent down her head

didn’t taste anything except

it was getting dark, the private jet had

Florence was there. After getting off the jet, she couldn’t

of her, all surrounded by bodyguards. Obviously, it was Stanford’s

asked, “Which villa

you