StarNovelChapter 165 Ernest turned his head toward me, his grip on my hand noticeably tightening. In that moment, it felt like he had a hold on my heart itself. They say there's a direct connection between the heart and the hands, and boy, did I feel it then.
"I'm going to give Licia everything I have, love her as deeply as I love my own life, protect her with everything I've got," Ernest's eyes locked on mine, deep and affectionate, shimmering with unspoken promises. Love as deep as the ocean—his gaze finally madeunderstand the true weight of those words. Even though our relationship was all for show, I could feel Ernest's sincere declaration of love.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThis man was playing for keeps, pulling off a real-life romance under the guise of pretense. There was nothing for it but to play along, lifting my hand to grasp his in return, yet part ofwanted to grit my teeth in frustration. I'd asked him to put on an act, not to blur the lines between fiction and reality.
So, I raised my hand to his face and pinched gently, expecting him to blush in his usual straightforward, honest manner.
But instead of showing any sign of embarrassment, he rubbed his cheek against my hand, much like a teddy bear pleading for affection. Shameless, absolutely shameless. I hadn't expected Ernest to drop his guard like this.
After his gesture, he naturally turned to Herschel and Jacqueline, adding, "And I'll love her for a lifetime, just like you." The first part was his declaration, but the latter was a clear jab at Jacqueline. I saw Jacqueline's face freeze, Ernest's words leaving her with no room for rebuttal.
Herschel, who had been silent till then, finally spoke up, "Felicia, let Ernest chat with Jacqueline. You, cwithto the study." With a nod to Ernest, Herschel led the way. I had a pretty good guess about what Herschel wanted to discuss and took a deep breath before following him.
Entering the study, I expected a barrage of questions, but instead, Herschel handeda gift box, "Felicia, open this. Use your new pens and ink to joinin swriting. Joining him in writing was a tradition long forgotten. It had been at least three years since, all because of something Jacqueline had said about children avoiding their parents as they grow up, especially since I wasn't their biological daughter.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmSince then, Herschel hadn't askedto join him in his writing, nor had I been allowed into his study, our conversations relegated to the garden or living room. Today's break from foutine leftuneasy, but I didn't question it, instead opening the new pens and ink as he had asked, preparing the paper for him.
"This must have cost you a pretty penny," he mused, examining the pens. "Ink and pens are priceless," I replied with a smile. Herschel chuckled, "Right, I'll write first, then it's your turn, just like before." Herschel didn't rush, prepping his pen, then began to write once ready. 'One leaf signals the coming of autumn, that was what Herschel wrote. In the midst of summer his choice of words seemed to convey erstanding of my unspoken
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"Now, it's your turn," he handedthe pen. Hesitating, I didn'immediately take it from him, his face breaking into a gentle, familiar smile.
"What's wrong, scared to write? Forgotten how?" His gaze was gentle, gaze was but the pressure l felt was unlike anything before, and I nodded honestly. "It's been a while." Ashburn X
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