Oh dear. For some reason, Oliver’s parents had never liked me. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the way I dressed or the fact that my own parents were rock stars or if it possibly had something to do with that one time I told them to go fuck themselves at their ruby anniversary. I’d met them a couple of times since and I’d been marginally better behaved, but the cloud of go-fuck-yourself had trailed behind me like a fart on the way out of a lift. For the first year they’d clearly been biding their time on the assumption that Oliver would come to his senses and dump me—much, to be fair, as I
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