Runaway Mommy: My Boss is the Father novel Chapter 35

Jaxson let out a cold scoff as the car took a sharp turn onto another street. The heavy rain had driven most of the traffic off the roads.

“Your taste in men is terrible.”

“...Huh?”

Before Phoebe could even process his comment, Jaxson spoke again, his tone an odd mix of probing curiosity, blatant disgust, and deep skepticism.

Or perhaps it was merely the innate control a superior felt over a subordinate.

“How did you settle for your daughter's father?”

Phoebe kept her head down, her fingers twisting the soaked fabric of her dress. She wanted to stay silent, but Jaxson's demeanor made it clear he wasn't going to let this go.

She offered a vague response. “Um, he's good-looking.”

Jaxson looked as if he'd just heard the most absurd excuse in the world.

He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the tense movement making his jaw emit a faint, sharp click.

“Is that so? You'd sacrifice your child's health just for a pretty face?”

Phoebe's face instantly lost all its color.

Lily's fragile health had absolutely nothing to do with her father.

It was because of the chaotic emotional rollercoaster Phoebe endured during her pregnancy. She had been through too much, physically and mentally drained to the bone, sometimes barely managing three hours of sleep a night.

She had walked straight through hell that year, facing loss and despair at every turn.

If she hadn't collapsed from sheer exhaustion right in the middle of Edward's hospital room, she wouldn't have even known she was pregnant.

Through all the tears and hysterical laughter, she made her decision instantly.

She was keeping the baby.

Even though she tried desperately to be careful afterward, the stress took its toll, and Lily was born frail and constantly susceptible to illness.

It was Phoebe who owed Lily everything.

She lowered her eyes. “No. It's all my fault.”

A suffocating knot of anger lodged tight in Jaxson's chest, refusing to loosen.

She was defending that man so fiercely.

An inexplicable fury swirled inside him. He slammed his foot on the gas, and the Jeep shot forward like an arrow into the stormy night, the sudden acceleration making Phoebe turn even paler.

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Jaxson looked up at her, his eyes pitch-black and bottomless, like an abyss trying to pull her in—or a raging inferno ready to reduce her to ash right there in the rain.

He took the wrap, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Go upstairs.”

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Hayes. Sorry to bother you tonight.”

Polite and perfectly appropriate.

Yet so cold, distant, and rigidly bound by boundaries.

It looked like she was terrified of having anything to do with him.

Jaxson took a bite of the wrap she had packed full of ingredients. All that meat mixed together made it taste completely off.

He sat alone in the quiet car.

His fingers tightened around his phone. An old account he hadn't used in years had just sent him a message, only for it to be immediately retracted.

He didn't need to guess. It was a misclick.

But he had already seen it.