I was only fifteen years old when they dressed me in white and told me I was lucky.
Everyone was smiling at my wedding as if my life had turned into a fairy tale. My mother cried as she adjusted my veil, my father stood proudly by the door, and the guests congratulated me on marrying into one of the most respected families in our town.
My husband's name was Adrian.
Wedding photography
He was twenty-one, attractive, quiet, and the only son of a wealthy family. During the ceremony, he held my hand in front of everyone, but his fingers were cold.
His mother, Margaret, watched me all night with a stern expression, as if she already knew something about me and hated me for it.
