This is not going to go well.

The refrain repeated in my head the closer we got to Alice’s dad’s house. That was, the mansion of Heston Pryce, the superstore magnate who, a little over a week ago, I had been blackmailing for money for the safe release of his daughter. The very daughter I was now sitting beside, who I was crazy in love with. The daughter who was now my wife.

The car rolled past the scowling, dark-haired security guard at the gate, and as I caught sight of the literal palace in front of us, the thought returned once more. This was not going to go well. The house was basically a miniature of Versailles, with an expanse of lawn the size of my old high school and little perfect spheres of shrubs like something out of a Dr. Seuss book.

How on earth was I going to tell this man, this rich, successful business tycoon, that I had married his daughter?

Alice squeezed my hand.

“Hey, Jake, you okay?”

“Yep,” my strained voice replied as we neared the house I didn’t want to arrive at.

By the time we walked up to its towering wooden doors, I was nearly shaking. At Alice’s pressing of a melodious doorbell, the door was answered by a young, olive-skinned maid who Alice smiled at.

“Simone, can you tell Papa that we’re here?”

“I could just take you to him if you’d like. He’s in the piano room.”

Alice nodded and said “all right,” and then we were off, walking through an entranceway that looked like something out of the movies with its red velvet couch and gold lamps.

Our procession went from one exquisitely furnished, gorgeous showplace of a room to another. By the time we reached the white wood and glass doors, I was just about ready to turn back.

There was no way this was going to work, no matter what Alice said.

But it was too late; Simone was opening the doors to reveal the most awe-inspiring room yet. There was a light wood, reflective floor, a white grand piano, and a long silver couch, upon which a white-haired man with black glasses was sitting.

Seeing us, he jumped up and froze.

“Alice,” his strained voice squeaked.

Alice rushed over to hug him. I lingered near the doorway, not wanting to go any further and yet not wanting to turn back either. I had to do this.

“Alice,” her father was saying, still not letting her go. “Alice, Alice, Alice. Thank God. How? Why? I—”

“I’ll explain everything, Papa,” Alice said, gradually drawing herself away. “But first, this is Jake.”

She gestured at me, and his small black pupils settled on me. His bushy mustache was quivering.

“The news…this man…” His voice was hoarse. “This is the man who did this to you, isn’t it?”

I looked away, and Alice continued.

“Paul hired him. It was Paul who did it. You saw how he was caught trying to escape the country a few days ago. Jake fell into hard times, but it only took him one night before he realized that what he was doing was wrong, before he released me.”

But her father’s gaze on me was as cold and as angry as ever, his voice even more so.

“Why are you telling me this? Why is this man standing in my house and not in jail?”

Alice grasped her father’s hand.

“Because, Papa, this man is the man I love. He saved me, and I saved him. We’re married.”

Her father ripped his hand away.

“You what?”

She grasped at it once more in vain.

“You don’t understand. Those few days transformed us. I know Jake; I connect with him like no one else. It’s been less than a month, but it was enough. Papa, if you only saw us together, then you’d know. We’re right for each other. He’s kind, generous, and giving.”

Now Heston wasn’t looking at either of us; his furious gaze was locked on a far corner of the room.

“Just tell me one more thing. On the news, you were there too. Was he—this man—was he robbing a bank?”

There was silence, perfect for the crashing down of the judge’s mallet.

“Papa, he—”

“Get out of my sight.”

She grabbed at his arm, but he ripped away before storming off a few feet.

“Get out of my sight!” His voice broke. “I can’t bear to look at you.”

We did. Gathering ourselves together, we speed-walked out of there, going from one gilded room to another, seeing all the same sights like some tragic sort of déjà vu, already nostalgic for the time when we didn’t know any better. We didn’t stop until we reached the lime green expanse of lawn. Glancing over, I saw tears streaming down Alice’s face.

“Alice, honey, are you all right?”

She shook her head and tried to wipe away the tears, but it was no use.

“I can’t believe… I never thought…”

Her miserable gaze found mine.

“He’s never spoken to me that way before. Never.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I took her in my arms and repeated the words over and over, though each time they seemed more useless, more futile.

“Sorry, babe. I’m so, so sorry.”

Crumpled in my arms, she shook her head.

“Don’t you apologize for anything. You have nothing to apologize for.”

And just like that, the flood of words swirling inside me spilled out.

“Yes, I do. For everything. For kidnapping you and ever being so stupid to think that I was worthy of you, that I could ever be good for you, be anything other than a disappointment. For letting you marry me when the only thing you should’ve been doing was running in the other direction.”

Alice disengaged herself as I spoke; perhaps my words were having their intended effect, getting her to see clearly for the first time. But when she got down on the green grass, she took my hand and patted the ground beside her.

“Come here.”

I lay down beside her, and she gestured to the sky and its rainbow of sunset colors.

“You see that?”

I shook my head, and she continued. “You see that colorful, happy, cloudless sky? Every day, that’s how you make me feel: open and clear and full of life, like anything is possible.”

“But, Alice—”

She put her head on my chest and murmured, “What you don’t understand, Jake, is that it’s too late. I can’t not have you in my life. There are no more ‘shoulds’ when it comes to you. There is only what I must do—and that’s be with you.”

As we lay there on the bright green front lawn and gazed up at the sky, our fingers twining and untwining, that settled it.

I wanted to leave the second we got up from that lawn, but Alice wasn’t having it.

“I’m not giving up that easily. I’m his only daughter. He won’t just forsake me like that, no matter how much he disagrees with me. We’ll stay in the guest house until he kicks us out.”

I searched her hopeful face, and although I already knew there was no point, I asked, “Are you sure?”

She nodded, took my hand, and set off for the guest house.

The guest house was actually a mini-mansion in its own right, with a pool and floor-to-ceiling glass walls (that could be concealed with some nice thick curtains, luckily). Tucked in this guest house like some unwanted mice, we stayed.

Simone stopped in from time to time, reporting on possible progress (none, really—apparently, the only change was that Heston had taken to ranting in the hallway and storming around the entire house in strange, clockwise circles). She snuck us all the food she could, though some trips to the nearest grocery store proved invaluable (as did the ever-dwindling stack of bills Tom had given us).

Other than the fact that we were unofficially exiled, it was fun. I’d never stayed in such a nice place in my entire life. There was a Jacuzzi and endless movies and a TV so big that it took over an entire wall. Plus, daily rolls in the bed with Alice made the stay more of a reward than a punishment. And yet still it was there, hanging over us, whatever we did. It was there in the silence at mealtimes, in the strained smiles after another one of Simone’s visits, in Alice’s sudden trailing off in the middle of a sentence. Finally, after a week, I said it.

“What are we going to do if your father doesn’t forgive you?”

As soon as Alice’s sweet face fell, I regretted saying it. But it was too late. Mustering up a hopeful smile, she shrugged.

“Papa is known for his temper. It’s explosive, but it always passes. He’ll forgive us. He has to.”

And just like that, we were back where we had started, except this time I was afraid to ask, “And what if he doesn’t?”

So, we went on as usual, Simone’s visits becoming rarer, the silences greater. Days bled into each other until they became one day, one lazy flop before the television, one half-hearted round of sex in bed, one soggy bowl of cereal.

One day, Alice went off to meet Lux (after her latest blackmailing to go to the house herself). As I was plopped on the couch, watching some TV show I didn’t even know the name of, the doorbell rang.

I opened to door, expecting to find Simone, and instead found myself face to face with Heston Pryce. Looking as angry as if I were the one who had surprised him at the door, he strode in. He threw a glare around, which stopped on me.

“You really like her then, do you?”

I nodded dumbly.

“So, if I paid you a hundred thousand to go away without a word and never come back, you wouldn’t accept it?”

The words were a slap in the face.

“No.”

He squinted at me. Then he spread his arms and smiled.

“This isn’t a test. It’s a real offer, boy. The best you’re going to get under these circumstances. The way I see it, you’re less of a liability this way. You disappear and get your money, my daughter sees just what kind of man you are—everyone wins.”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but no. I can’t do that.”

His mustache was quivering. He stepped forward so that our faces were mere inches apart, half of my vision obscured by his irate mug.

“And why not? I mean it when I say I’m going to cut her off without a penny. Tomorrow, I’m giving you both the boot. You can do what you will, wherever; it’s none of my concern. This way, you’ll be making off with something at least.”

His words sloshed at my feet as uselessly as a puddle of water.

“I don’t think you understand,” I said slowly. “I really do love Alice. There isn’t a sum you can offer me that would make it worth walking away from her.”

Now it was his eyebrows that were moving, rising with incredulous doubt.

“Oh, really? So if I offered you two hundred thousand, that wouldn’t change your mind? Five hundred thousand? A million?”

With every new offer, his beady eyes rolled around within his black square spectacles, searching my face for any crack in my certainty, any sign he was getting somewhere.

But I could only shrug and shake my head again and again.

“I’m sorry. I’ve tried talking to Alice about this, convincing her that she’d be better off without me, but there’s no talking to her. She’s set in her ways. Even if I left to protect her, she would come after me. And you have to understand, Mr. Pryce, I can’t not be with her if she wants to be with me.”

His eyes were narrowed into two black slits.

“You fool. Do you really think my daughter will stick by you in a few months’ time when she sees what a deadbeat you are, when she sees just who you really are?”

Now my eyes were narrowing.

“With all due respect, that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Pryce. As long as Alice is by my side, believing in me, I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure we’re well taken care of. It may not be much”—I waved my arm around—“and it certainly won’t be like this, but I won’t sleep until she’s well looked after.”

His whole face set into a sneer, Mr. Pryce stormed out.

When Alice came back, rosy and chatty after seeing her friend, I didn’t mention her father’s visit. I only enjoyed her renewed happy caresses and kept silent, wanting to enjoy this fleeting change, even though I knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—last.