Maryam

“Marie came that evening and asked me if I'd marry her. I said I didn't mind; if she was keen on it, we'd get married. Then she
asked me again if I loved her. I replied, much as before, that her question meant nothing or next to nothing--but I supposed I didn't.

'If that's how you feel,' she said, 'why marry me?'

I explained that it had no importance really, but, if it would give her pleasure, we could get married right away. I pointed out that, anyhow, the suggestion came from her; as for me, I'd merely said, 'Yes.'
Then she remarked that marriage was a serious matter. To which I answered: 'No.'
She kept silent after that, staring at me in a curious way. Then she asked:
'Suppose another girl had asked you to marry her--I mean, a girl you liked in the same way as you like me--would you have said 'Yes' to her, too?'

'Naturally.'

Then she said she wondered if she really loved me or not. I, of course, couldn't enlighten her as to that. And, after another silence, she murmured something about my being 'a queer fellow.' 'And I daresay that's why I love you,' she added. 'But maybe that's why one day I'll come to hate you.”
― Albert Camus, The Stranger