It is nearly Christmas. Christmas means 125 days until I am wed. I think my mother is expecting me to begin preparing soon, but even thinking about the day causes a raging headache and another bout of relentless tears.
I wish my mother would understand. She was a girl once too, was she not? But I suppose our experiences are not comparable. She loves my father, and I suppose she has since the day they met.
If I loved Henri, I would want to marry him. I would not even complain once. I am sure that I know what love feels like, and I have never felt a bit of it while in the presence of Henri.
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My Dear Madeleine
Historical FictionAdélaïde, a 15-year-old girl living in Nouvelle France, befriends her older neighbour, Madeleine. Some historians would say... they were very good friends.
