Chapter 18: The Vote
The thing about being married to your political opponent is that the dinner table becomes a war room whether you intend it to or not.
It started subtly. Tuesday evening, pasta and the tail end of a long day, Sebastian mentioning almost casually that the northern waterfront parcels had a drainage infrastructure problem that the development proposal didn’t adequately address. I said, equally casually, that the drainage issue had been assessed and mitigated in the revised environmental report submitted six weeks ago. Sebastian said he’d read the revised report. I said clearly not carefully enough. Sebastian put down his fork. I picked up mine.
We argued for forty five minutes.
It was the best conversation I’d had in weeks.
This was the thing I hadn’t anticipated abou
