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.

planes, there were two ropes, on which a casserole

ropes were pulled, the casserole was moving towards their private

at them, an unreliable conjecture rising in her

other helicopter delivering the tonic soup

way too... luxurious,

could be so imaginative to figure out

the casserole was obtained safely.

Addison held a tray, on which there was a bowl

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

Phoebe couldn’t

enough, the tonic soup was

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

gratefully, “Thank you so

waved his hand and said 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, please Mr.

Addison cast a glance

his best not to

and delighted. It turned out Mr. Fraser had finally become smart. He could even

big effort that showed his romantic care, Addison was

like a fool. When

soup bowl in her hands was too hot for her

to know that the tonic soup was delivered by the

Stanford who personally arranged such

kept twinkling. She looked at

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

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

rather that Mr.

it be just a piece of cake? At least, Addison had never seen Stanford use a helicopter to deliver the tonic

Phoebe’s

that was just a piece of cake for Stanford as long as he gave a command. How could she insist on feeling that he

so pathetic as she

the soup bowl tightly, she whispered,

her head and

taste anything

getting dark, the private jet

After getting off the jet, she couldn’t wait to

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

turned around and asked, “Which

show you