I gazed at the flames. Before I met Luke, I'd lived alone. I'd worked hard. I'd been my own person. Now I was slipping into Luke, melting into the intensity of his personality, of his authority. It sheltered me.

I couldn't let my mum worry about me, however. "I'm fine," I said. "I'm simply stressed out. When this entire wedding event is finished, I'll go back to focusing on my paintings ."

With a sigh, my mother deflated. "Joyce," she urged again, "please, take this seriously, and tell me honestly: why did you marry this man?"

I couldn't tell her it was for the money, and I definitely couldn't tell...