The steady beat of his heart calmed her tumultuous mind, and wrapped in the heat of his embrace, she fell asleep knowing she had made the right decision.
Her father was never going to accept their love.
“That low-life, gold-digger only wants your body and my money,” he had snarled. “Even that old pendant around your neck costs more than he can earn in a year. It’s easy to talk about true love when you are living in comfort. Two days without these luxuries and all that true love will vanish. Puff! ”
That night she had come to him. “Take me away right now,” she had wept. With a gentle smile he had taken her into his arms and made sweet hungry love.
She awoke shivering in the cold spiritless morning. Reaching for a blanket she realised there was nothing there. Nothing but her clothes lying in a heap. He was nowhere to be seen. Gasping she reached for the familiar comfort of her mother’s necklace. Even her neck was bare.
In response to The Sunday Photo Fiction‘s challenge of 2nd July based on a photo prompt by A Mixed Bag 2011