Then, as if he felt my eyes on him, he looked up. Whatever was on my face must have given me away, because his expression softened immediately.
Oliver followed my line of sight, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re different with him.”
“Am I?”
“It’s sweet,” he said, taking a sip. “I never really got to see you two together. I wasn’t expecting it to be like that.”
I tilted my head. “Like what?”
“You know.” He waved a hand, widening his eyes like that was supposed to explain anything. “I expected you to be all…Sebastianabout it. And it’s not. Which is a good thing. I just didn’t know.”
If Oliver was fumbling for words, he’d definitely reached his limit.
“I don’t think you function as well as you think you do without sleep.”
He laughed, setting his coffee down. “You’re leaning on him. I’ve never seen you do that. With anybody.”
My lips parted.
“I figured you’d be all protective and authoritative,” he went on, “and you’re just…” He let the word hang.
“What?”
“Soft,” Oliver said. “You’re softer with him.”
Couldn’t argue with that. Ethan just brought it out of me. Yet another thing I couldn’t control around him—one I didn’t want to. Not anymore.
I hummed, and Oliver rolled his eyes, a hint of amusement there.
“It’s good that you feel safe with him, Ash,” he said. “It’s a really good thing.”
“If it works out,” I muttered.
“It will.” He smiled at me, the kind that didn’t leave room for debate.
“Maybe.”
Oliver stared into his coffee like it might hold answers, then let out a quiet chuckle that grew into a full laugh, the sound edged with exhaustion and disbelief.
I frowned. “You need to sleep.”
He nodded, wiping at the corner of his eye. “I do. But god—you do realize we’re going to have the same in-laws?”
“And that’s funny to you?”
“They don’t like you—at all.”
“I’ve assumed as much,” I said. “I’m not crazy about them either.”
He made a dismissive wave with his cup. “Margaret’s always been too preoccupied with what people think,” Oliver went on. “And just because he’s older, it doesn’t make the age gap disappear, you know?”
My stomach twisted, the guilt I’d carried about Ethan—and the disparity in our ages—surfacing all over again. “I know.”
“Do I think she’s aiming her anger at the wrong thing? Absolutely.” He shrugged. “But part of me gets why it bothers her so much. No one wants that for their kid. To watch them struggle like that.”
My brows drew together. “Because of how different our lives will be?”
“No. Because of how hard it was on Ethan.”
