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.

were two ropes, on which a

casserole was moving towards their

at them, an unreliable conjecture

delivering the tonic soup to

way too... luxurious, wasn’t

imaginative to

the casserole was obtained safely.

tray, on which there was a bowl of soup, and

put the soup in front of Phoebe and said, “Miss Jenkins, please drink the soup

of her, Phoebe couldn’t believe that her ridiculous guess

tonic soup

a complicated look, she held the bowl of tonic soup that was

said gratefully, “Thank

idea. Mr. Fraser arranged it in person. Miss Jenkins, if you want to thank

a smile, Addison cast a glance

not to

was shocked and delighted. It turned out Mr. Fraser had finally become smart. He could even think of delivering the tonic

his romantic care,

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

Phoebe suddenly felt the soup bowl in her hands was too hot

was more shocking than she got to know that the tonic soup was delivered by

it was Stanford who personally

kept twinkling. She looked

to ask something but didn’t. He felt a bit

said in a stuffy tone, “I have a lot of helicopters. It’s just a

door of the

that Mr. Fraser didn’t

of cake? At least, Addison had never seen Stanford use a helicopter to deliver the tonic soup to

Phoebe’s

for Stanford as long as he gave a command. How

herself was so

bowl tightly,

head and slowly

didn’t taste anything

it was getting dark, the private

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

there were several villas in front of her, all surrounded by bodyguards. Obviously, it was Stanford’s

she turned around and asked, “Which villa is

show you