I pushed off the counter and headed toward the door, only to pause and look back at him, my thoughts tripping over something he’d said. “If you want my intentions, here they are. I’m going to marry your daughter. Then I’m going to spend every day of my life making her as happy as possible. But when I ask her to be my wife, you won’t know. I won’t ask your permission because she’s not a piece of property, and I won’t respect your tradition because you don’t respect that it’s really her choice. And if she says yes, you’ll only know if she tells you. You’ll only know if we get married if she
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