Page 109 of Love ad Lib
‘Libby—’
‘Henry. Whatexactlyare your feelings towards me?’
‘I just told you. Erm, admiration, regard—’
‘You like me?’
‘Like? It’s more than like, Libby. I can’t stop thinking about you. I hunger for you. I burn for you. My passion—’
‘And these feelings are abhorrent to you?’
‘No! Yes! Fuck!’
A tear spilled down her cheek and she swiped it angrily away.
‘Libby—’
‘So, let me get this absolutely straight.’ Her voice was cold despite the sharp heat of her anger. ‘You have “struggled” against feelings towards me, which are “abhorrent”. Your passion has overcome “all rational objections”, and by declaring yourself, you’re going against your conscience, your word, and your better judgement?’
His eyes widened.
‘And the worst part of all,’ she yelled, ‘is that my lower-class family is not good enough to associate with the Foxbrookes. Any “possible connection” with the Fletchers would be mortifying?’
Her gulping breaths filled the silence.
‘You are mistaken,’ he finally replied.
‘Am I?’ she whispered.
Henry nodded, his face creased as if in pain.
‘Am I?’ she shouted.
‘Yes! God, Libby, yes!’
He strode towards her, stopping when she held her hand up again.
‘It is abhorrent to me to have these feelings when I promised not to. I gave my word I would behave in a proper and respectful manner, and yet here I am, telling you how I feel because not doing so is causing me untold agony.’
He pulled the contract from his bag and held it out.
‘My word is my bond, but in my imagination and now in my actions, I’ve broken it at every turn. My feelings for you are rational, but to declare them is not. My better judgement would have been to keep quiet.’ He let out a hollow laugh. ‘And as for your family? Jesus Christ, Libby. It’s notyourfamily I’m mortified by, it’smine. How could I ever convince your parents and your siblings that I’m good enough for you when my father has two wives and can’t keep his clothes on?’
‘You’re not embarrassed to be associated with me or my family?’
‘Fucking hell, no. Not in a million years.’
‘And you’re upset because you like me but think you shouldn’t.’
He nodded. ‘Our relationship is supposed to be fake, but my feelings for you are very real.’
She blinked.Oh. My. God.
His gaze was desperate, clutching the contract as if it were his last link to sanity.
She crossed the distance between them and took it from him, turning the pages until she found what she was searching for.
She read aloud. ‘“I, Henry Foxbrooke will remain at least eight inches away from Libby Fletcher at all times, in accordance with paragraph four, clause nine, and appendix one.”’
