Love is often the fruit of marriage.
Max: Do you love me?
Gilda: Oh Max, oh Max, people should never ask that question on their wedding night. It's either too late or too early.
Tevye: Then you love me?
Golde: I suppose I do!
Tevye: And I suppose I love you, too.
Both: It doesn't change a thing, but even so
After twenty-five years, it's nice to know.
—Fiddler on the Roof, "Do You Love Me?"