But was that really what he wanted? To be alone? The truth was that the thought of living here, with his mother, forever was almost as unpleasant as the thought of being someone’s wife. But if neither option was desirable, what was left? Was there any point in hoping for an alternative, a life where someone might take him as a husband, might recognize him as a boy and one day a man? Oliver wanted to believe it was possible. But right now, with the sting of Darcy’s rejection of his true self still smarting, it all felt so hopeless.
