Larmina had gotten sick of Hubert long, long ago, but she couldn't get over this feeling inside. He was a pompous ass who cared of no one but himself, yet every time she looked over at his face plastered with a goofy smile, she couldn't help but feel a little surge of happiness fill her and lift her spirits until he opened his mouth and they were once again crushed.
She tried to be the strong female role model, but she knew she was going to cave eventually. She made it this far at least. She knows this isn't what she should be doing. She should have at least a sliver of decency in her body, and she does, but some things are too hard to pass up.
Some things are just too goddamn French to pass up.