They were only sixteen when they wore a white dress and told me I was lucky.
Everyone around me smiled, as if my life was becoming a fairy tale. My mother cried, my father seemed proud and Daniel, the man I was going to marry, held my hand in front of the whole village.
But I didn’t feel lucky.
I felt like a scared girl, pushed into a life I didn’t fully understand.
Daniel was twenty-one. He was handsome, quiet and came from a respected family. Everyone said that it was lucky for me, that I was going to a good home and that I should be grateful.
On the night of the wedding, after the guests left, I was alone with him in our room.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her heart beating so loud that she could barely
breathe.
Daniel looked at me and asked coldly:
Is there anything you should have told me before today?
