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I understand.

. . . Robert is the only reason I know. My parents were hardly loving, and the idea of imitating them was . . . I used to dread the thought of marriage. I actively feared it, never mind all the trappings that came along with it. I could think of no worse fate, and I refused it.

But I found a home in him. And I found that it's different when you're with someone you love, and who loves you. I found that what I was terrified of wasn't domesticity, precisely, so much as being forced into a cage and kept isolated.

do you want to marry him?

[That isn't quite the question that preys on their minds, but she won't mention that to Dave. Marriage is enough; the thought of children is too dizzying to share.]

I'm indifferent on the matter, truly. If he wishes to, I'll happily do it, but nor is it something I seek.

I suppose I grew used to the idea that we never would be. This is the first place we've been where we could celebrate it, never mind have people we'd actually want to attend.