Forbidden Passion
Chapter 557 Don't Touch Me

Phoebe had a rough night, tossing and turning with nightmares of Donovan's car flipping and sinking into the ocean, swallowed by the waves, leaving no trace of him. She woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding like a drum.

The bedroom door flew open, and in walked Theodore, tall and looking all serious, his eyes locking onto her pale face.

He sat down next to her, gripping her thin shoulders to keep her from jumping out of bed.

"Phoebe, you're still weak. Just chill for a bit longer," Theodore said, his eyes full of worry.

Phoebe shrugged off his hand, grabbed the coat next to her, threw it on, and made a beeline for the door. Theodore was right on her heels. "Phoebe, where are you going?" he asked.

Looking like she hadn't slept in days, Phoebe's lips were pale. She kept walking, "Where did Donovan's accident happen? I need to see it." Theodore's face darkened, "Eat something first, and I'll take you there."

Phoebe wasn't having it, "I don't want to eat. I can't even think about food."

Donovan just vanished. There was no warning, nothing. His last call was to her; how could she live with that?

Theodore caught up, grabbed her wrist, and said, "You look like crap. If you don't eat, you'll collapse."

"I don't need your pity!" Phoebe snapped, yanking her hand away, but the effort made her vision blur, showing just how weak she was.

Theodore's eyes showed a flicker of hurt. He didn't try to catch her, just stated the obvious, "You can barely stand. The beach wind will knock you over. Eat something first, or you're not going anywhere." Phoebe glared at him, teeth clenched.

Theodore stood his ground, "Waste time if you want. I've got all day."

Phoebe let out a frustrated sound and finally gave in, "Fine, I'll eat. But after that, you take me."

Theodore relaxed a bit. He scooped her up and carried her to the dining room.

Yves had already whipped up some porridge. Seeing Theodore carrying Phoebe, Yves quickly served a bowl with some sides. Theodore set Phoebe down, and picked up the porridge, ready to cool it and feed her. But Phoebe snatched it, "I got it. I'll eat." Theodore was taken aback.

Phoebe grabbed the bowl and started wolfing it down. The porridge was steaming hot, but she didn't care, shoveling it in. Seeing this, Theodore's heart ached even more.

"Phoebe, slow down. It's hot," he said.

Phoebe ignored him, her tongue already numb from the heat, her mouth full of blisters. She felt like she couldn't eat fast enough, wishing she could just pour it down her throat. Theodore's eyes darkened. He knew she wouldn't listen, so he gave up.

Phoebe finished the porridge, sweat beading on her skin from the heat. She stood up and stared at Theodore, "I'm done. Can we go now?"

Theodore's hand clenched into a fist. He stood up and said, "Let's go."

They left the house, took the elevator to the underground parking lot, where Jack was waiting in the car. Phoebe and Theodore got in, and the car sped off towards the beach.

The car was dead silent, Phoebe staring out the window as the city lights blurred into the highway.

"Why did Donovan go to the beach?" she suddenly asked.

Theodore's fingers twitched, but he didn't dodge, "Mr. Douglas from the Venture Capital Firm threw a party at his beach villa last night. He invited me, but since Donovan was handling the project, I sent him instead." Phoebe bit her lip, eyes dark and lost in thought.

Just when Theodore thought she was done talking, she spoke up again, "Today's the last day of the 15-day deadline. Happy with the results, Mr. Reynolds?"

Jack, gripping the steering wheel, wished he could disappear.

Theodore's heart sank. Phoebe was blaming him for Donovan's death.

He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him, "Phoebe, are you saying I sent him to his death?"

The pain in her shoulders made Phoebe wince. She looked at Theodore calmly, "I didn't say that."

"Phoebe!" Theodore was frustrated, teeth clenched, "I know you're hurting over Donovan. I forgive your harsh words, but don't say that again."

Seeing his so-called magnanimity, Phoebe's hand clenched into a fist. She suddenly struggled, "Don't touch me!"

Theodore, afraid she'd hurt herself, let go..

The rest of the ride was silent. Two hours later, they arrived at the cliff where Donovan had his accident.

Phoebe got out, the sea breeze hitting her face with a salty sting.

She saw the twisted guardrail, the trampled grass, the scars and tire tracks everywhere.

Her legs felt like lead, heavy and hard to move.

Was Donovan really dead?

Phoebe shook her head, refusing to believe it!

She stumbled a few steps and fell to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Donovan, this can't be real, right? You're not dead; you're just hiding again, right?" Theodore saw her fall and quickly walked over. Hearing her words, he pulled back his outstretched hand.

Just let her cry.

Cry it out, and maybe it won't feel so hopeless.

"I know I wasn't good to you, always blaming you for being immature. Come back, and I won't mind you causing trouble for me anymore. Donovan, I'm sorry."

If she hadn't agreed to Theodore's plan to "toughen up" Donovan, this wouldn't have happened. It was all her fault for being so self-righteous, driving Donovan to his death. What should she do now?

The sea wind howled, and a red sports car pulled up, stopping at the edge of the cliff. The door opened, and Ruby got out.

Ruby saw Theodore and Phoebe in the distance, clenched her fists, and slowly walked over, sitting down next to Phoebe.

Phoebe felt someone sit beside her. She turned and saw Ruby's sorrowful face. Ruby's eyes were swollen, and a corner of her hospital gown peeked out from under her jacket, clearly just out of the hospital. Ruby still had a faint smell of disinfectant on her, looking haggard.

Phoebe's voice trembled, "Ruby, were you with Donovan last night?"

Ruby looked at the turbulent sea, where Donovan had met his end. When she heard the news last night, she wanted to follow Donovan into death.

But she couldn't; she still had things to do.