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.

ropes, on

the ropes were pulled, the casserole was moving towards

unreliable conjecture rising in her

other helicopter delivering the

too...

wondered who could be so imaginative

while, the casserole was obtained safely. The hatch

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

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

in front of her, Phoebe couldn’t believe that her

tonic soup was delivered

of tonic soup that was obtained in difficulty with

“Thank you so much,

waved his hand and said with a smile, “I didn’t come up with the idea. Mr. Fraser

cast a glance at Stanford meaningfully and walked

not to be

Fraser had finally become smart. He

was such a big effort that showed his romantic care, Addison was

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

hearing Addison’s words, Phoebe suddenly felt the soup bowl in her hands

know that the

it was Stanford who personally arranged such an

looked at him

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

have a lot of helicopters. It’s just a piece of cake. Hurry up to drink

who had just opened the door of the operation cabin,

Mr. Fraser

it be just a piece of cake? At least, Addison had never seen Stanford use a helicopter to deliver the tonic soup to another person, not to

hearing his words, Phoebe’s sparkling

piece of cake for Stanford as long as he gave a command. How could she

so pathetic as she

bowl tightly,

she bent down her head and slowly drank

she didn’t taste anything except

dark, the private jet had

getting off the jet,

her, all surrounded by bodyguards. Obviously, it was

she turned around and asked, “Which villa is Flory

you