“Libby, don’t,” he sighed. “You’re my girlfriend. You’re important to me. You, for better or worse, are my responsibility, and—” “Ezra, listen to me carefully, because this is the last time I’ll say it.” She took three steps to close the distance between them, slamming the book shut on the last argument she planned to have today. “I am not,” Libby said flatly, “yours.”
