I feel like I’m in prison. It’s the jubilee of our marriage; one that you would compute the best you have ever come across given the exclusive cognacs and the dazzlingly expensive chandelier hanging over my designer, figure-flattering gown. That would flatter me; for in actuality, this is nothing more than a surreptitious union; my empathy for this psychopath in exchange for the voluminous wealth that he possesses. What was I thinking – getting all cockeyed like that? I feel the flutter of a quark inside of me – vulnerability – a weakness I cannot free. Please save me, for my entire life has been a calamitous lie.