Husband Material (London Calling, #2)

by Alexis Hall

This was turning into very much the opposite of the romantic meal I’d envisioned. “Okay? That’s good for you, I guess?” “I just want you to…understand.” He was looking at me kind of the way he had when he first told me he worked in criminal defence. And it made me feel…weird. Mostly good weird. Like, even after three years with Oliver, it still did strange things to my head and my heart that someone could care that much about what I thought. I put my fork down. Because, suddenly, I really did want to y’know… “Understand what?” I asked. “That I’ll never be…that I’ll never express my identity in the way you express your identity. And while”—his mouth turned up wryly—“that doesn’t come from a wholly uncomplicated place, it isn’t a flaw in who I am. It’ s just who I am.” I thought I did understand that. But then again I’d clearly given Oliver the impression I didn’t, and Oliver was way smarter than me. “I–I do get that,” I tried. “It’s just sometimes hard to get my brain around.” “That’s the problem. I’m not sure I want to be something that’s hard to get your brain around.” This felt like it was teetering on the edge of a serious place. A potentially relationship-ending, marriage-breaking serious place. So I gambled. “Okay, but I think that ship has already sailed.”