“And what about your life?”
For a moment, she looked so young that I wanted to take her hand and run away with her that very night.
Instead, she lowered her eyes.
“They’ve already decided.”
I was furious. I wanted to confront her family, stand outside their house, and tell everyone that love should not be something a person could bargain away.
But I was nineteen, with little money, no powerful relatives, and no real understanding of how difficult it can be to escape a decision made by an entire family.
A week before her wedding, Anna met me beneath our oak tree.
She wore a pale yellow dress, and the wind kept blowing strands of hair across her face.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” she said.
“I could never hate you.”
“Promise me something, Richard.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t spend your life waiting for me.”
I wanted to tell her that I would never love anyone else.
