She was just twenty years young, signing a contract to give her life away just to a man just as young and naive as she. Love? Perhaps it wasn’t that. Perhaps it was not even lust, but more so a ticket out of the strict household she tried her best to grow up and out of. It was time to get out and he was the only one foolish enough to take her in.

He was handsome enough and it was apparent that he did care for her. He would look at her, almost in admiration, like he couldn’t believe she had agreed to marry him. Sometimes, she couldn’t believe it herself, but it was time to walk down the isle. She made eye contact and could see all the hope in his eyes; she just hoped he could see the same in hers.

What did she hope for? She hoped that this relationship would last. She hoped that he would always be a good man, caring and loving her, insecurities and all. She hoped she would never have to go through the heartbreak her mother had to; married to an adulterer a chauvinist of sorts. Most of all, she hoped she would find herself happy with the life she was choosing.

Finally, she reached him. The aisle seemed to stretch on for miles. Her father lifted her veil and gave her away. He thought he was letting go of his little girl once and for all, never knowing it was him who made her rush into another man’s arms. As the ceremony began, tears began to form in her eyes. She kept a smile on her face trying to appear that she was crying only because of an undeniable happiness, not because she felt she had lost her soul- her entity- somewhere along the way.

She knew there would be no turning back, so finally, she spoke.

“I do.”