We arrived at his father's home at 7:30. Dinner would be served promptly at 8:00. The condo was sparsely decorated and it had an extremely sterile atmosphere. The appliances were stainless steel. The furniture was leather and cold. It looked as though it had just been purchased, though according to his stepmother, it had been bought almost four years prior.

His stepmother, I discovered, was the source of the tension between him and his father. At least that's what he told me. I can't say I believed him. I thought the young woman merely added to it by being just two years older than I and six months younger than Joseph. He called her a gold digger and Joseph's father threatened to disinherit him.

Talk of his mother was rare. She had simply vanish when Joseph was a child and after her was a long line of women who never seemed to stay longer than a month. And the one who did stay just so happened to be Joseph's ex from college. Joseph and his father never discussed it. How exactly does one talk about that sort of thing?

Dinner for the most part was awkward, filled with only brief spurts of conversation that consisted of prying questions and curt replies. Dessert was served and accompanied with silence. That is until the elder Mr. Weston asked, "When do you plan to marry her, Joey?" He inclined his head in my direction.

I paused, my fork poised at my open mouth. I could see Joseph tense. He never liked being called Joey. And I thought if he could murder with just a glare, his father would be dead ten times over. "Not to be too forward, sir," I said, lowering my fork, "But Joseph and I barely know each other."

"Bah." The old man waved his hand dismissively at me. "It's always feelings with you women. Love is insignificant when you have a reputation to maintain."

I blinked at his words and chanced a glance at his wife to gauge her reaction. But she continued to eat, as though her husband had not said a word. I put my fork down and pushed my plate away. What appetite I did have was thoroughly ruined.

He stood and gave Joseph an intense glare. "Marry her. Soon. Or leave her be. I'm sick of reading your name in the gossip column. It's time to grow up, Joey. And do something right for a change." And without even a good night, he turned and left the room.

His wife nodded to us, "I should go speak to him."

I took the cue and gently brushed my fingers along Joseph's arm, "We should be going anyway."

He slid his chair back and shook my hand off of his arm. "We never should have come. Let's go, Helga."

I got up and followed him. His stride was long and brisk which made keeping up with him difficult. He stopped at his car and laid his hand on the door. I stood next to the passenger's door and watched him. His shoulders slouched and looked at me. "He won't drop the subject, until we do what he wants."

I was silent, unsure of where he was going with this. "So. Wanna get married?"

I blinked. "Married?"

He smiled, "Did you really think I was going to let you go? I was going to ask you eventually. So why not now?"

"But your father…" And he scoffed.

"That man doesn't mean anything me. But I still want to marry you, Helga. I love you."

It felt as though something had drained the air from my lungs and I nodded. I don't know what compelled me to agree. Maybe I agreed because I really thought that he loved me. Or maybe I did because I thought I had to. It's something I still think about today.

---

We were married three weeks after that dinner. Joseph knew someone at the courthouse who agreed to marry us without alerting the media. We were dressed casually because we would be going to my parents home soon after. They didn't know Joseph and I were dating until Dad saw our picture in some gossip magazine that branded Joseph a cheater and me the other woman.

The picture of us had been inset with the photo of a woman I had never met. As a matter of fact, this so called jilted lover didn't even exist. Dad didn't seem to care. He demanded to meet Joseph and judge for himself.

And after proclaiming that Olga would never do this, I ended the call. I dreaded Joseph meeting my family and prayed that Olga would not be visiting.

My prayer went unanswered.

The evening went on without a hitch, surprisingly enough. Mom made an effort to actually look interested in the conversation. Dad kept his snide remarks about me and my life to a minimum. And Olga managed to not talk about herself. I thought it would end with minimal damage, when dad decided to question us about the article. Joseph's grip on my hand was crushing and I gritted my teeth to keep from grimacing visibly.

"I told you, Bob, none of that is true. The woman isn't even real."

He waved his hand at me to shush me and he directed his attention to Joseph. "Look, boy, I don't know who you think you are, but you won't embarrass my kid. Olga…"

"Helga, Dad," I corrected.

"Right, Helga will be nobody's floozy."

Josephs grip was unrelenting. "Helga is my wife. How dare you suggest I would ever cheat on her."

"It felt as though the air had been sucked from the room. Dad was speechless. His gaze fell on me and mom was the one to break the silence. "Helga, you told us he was your boyfriend."

"He was. At the time we had that conversation." So technically it wasn't a lie. "We kept the wedding a secret for obvious reasons." And I shot a glare at Dad.

This did little to ease the look in my mother's eyes. She was hurt and I felt guilty. My relationship with her wasn't the greatest, but at least we talked on a regular basis. Dad? That was the first time we had spoken in two months. We never could get along for more than ten minutes at a time. And the fact that I had married without his knowledge (read: consent) wasn't making it better.

"Olga would never have done this." He frowned at me before getting up and leaving the room. I wondered if he would ever realize I had built up an immunity to those words. I would never be as great as his precious Olga. I had come to accept that.

Joseph's grip had eased finally and I wiggled my fingers. They still throbbed. "I'm sorry, Mom," I said.

She smiled weakly at me, "You're an adult, Helga. Nothing to be sorry for." She stood and hugged me. But her arms were stiff. "Congratulations, honey."

Joseph didn't react at all when Mom welcomed him to the family. An awkward silence fell and he stood. "We should go, Helga. It's getting late."

I nodded. Things were tense enough. We didn't want to make it worse by prolonging our visit. At least I didn't."

I kissed my mother and hugged my sister, who told me to call her if I ever needed anything. But I knew what that meant. It was Olga-talk for "Call so I can be nosy." I would never be in the mood to have Olga declare how much better her life was than mine. So I had no real intention of ever calling her. Even though I told her I would. Oh well, it wasn't the first time I had lied to Olga.

As a matter of fact, I thought it would be best if I avoided my whole family for a while. At least until they had gotten used to the idea of me and Joseph.

The car ride home was largely silent. Joseph stared straight ahead and I sat with my hands folded in my lap. "I don't want to go back there," he said finally.

I glanced at him and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Your dad's an idiot."

I frowned. Yes that was true, but I didn't want other people saying it. "You were the one who blurted out we were married. I was handling it."

"Like hell you were!" He glanced at me before tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

I turned my head away from him and frowned. This wasn't exactly how I was expecting to spend my wedding night. "I don't want to fight with you about this," I said.

"Then stop being difficult. The decision is final. We will not be going to see them again."

"When you become my boss, then I'll listen to you."

I heard the tires screech as Joseph jarringly pressed his foot against the break. He shoved me and my head struck the glass. Hard. I don't remember much of the conversation immediately after. I just remember being angry. I wanted to hit him. No one had ever hit me before. Not without losing a couple of teeth in the process. And I wasn't going to make an exception for Joseph. If he wanted to play rough, fine. But he didn't realize just who he was dealing with.

Or...or was it the other way around?