I stilled, the words pounding through my mind. Wife. Tomorrow. Words I'd managed to push to the back of my mind- well, for a little while, at least. Wife. Tomorrow.

"Surprise!" everyone yelled.

I didn't move, didn't speak.

Even draped across the lounge as she was, Linda acted appropriately shocked. She put her hands over her mouth and muttered, "I can't believe you did this."

Everyone laughed.

Not me. I stared up at Royce now, at his strong chin, his cheekbones, his straight nose. His soft lips. His bright, bright blue eyes. He'd been inside me so many times over the last few weeks I hardly knew who I was without him there.

He kissed me softly on the lips. "I have to speak with my mom. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Yes," I said softly.

He kissed me again, a little harder, and walked away.

I watched him go. I'd tried to deny it, tried valiantly, but I couldn't deny it anymore. Couldn't fool myself, or pretend all I felt was lust. I loved him. I really, truly loved him. In that moment, my entire body pulsed with the knowledge. Roared with it.

My stomach cramped, hard. Love was dangerous. Love was messy, could ruin me. Wife. Tomorrow. WIFE. TOMORROW. All of my fears spoke up at once.

You'll love him forever, but how long will he love you?

He's too good to be true.

He'll get tired of you soon after the wedding.

He'll cheat. Men always do.

Jonathan hadn't cheated on my mom, I reminded myself, desperate. And Royce had done nothing to earn my distrust.

Not yet, that is.

I had trouble drawing in a breath. I felt like I was trapped in a small, airless box, no way out. Spinning round and round, helpless, screaming but remaining unheard. Hurting, sick. Frantic.

You're going to get hurt, and you'll never be able to recover.

Royce travels all the time. He might not mean to, but one day, somewhere, something will happen…

You'll be left as a shell of a woman.

Even now there were women dressed in green and camped outside the hotel.

I couldn't do it, I thought, shaking my head. I just couldn't do it! I couldn't be a forgotten, unwanted wife. Not again. If I hadn't fallen in love with him, maybe I could have gone through with it. If I hadn't given him my whole heart, maybe I could have risked it. Not now. No, not now.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. What was I going to do? How was I going to get out of this? Ohmygod.

"Breathe, Naomi, breathe."

The rest of the party passed in a haze for me. Royce mingled with the crowd, and I stood off to the side, wondering what the hell I was going to do to get out of my own wedding. I couldn't give Royce the chance to break my heart. I couldn't let another man destroy me.

I couldn't live through another divorce.

And that's what will happen if you marry him. He'll divorce you, take you for everything you've worked so hard for.

Shut up, I wanted to scream. The fears… I had to silence them. They'd won. They'd defeated me. I couldn't marry him. Why wouldn't they shut up now?

"Are you okay?" Kera asked, suddenly in front of me and holding out her tray of…whatever it was. It was brown and gloppy. "You look pale."

I ignored the offered food. "I'm fine, thank you. You?"

"I'm good." She paused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

Pause. "Maybe George should-"

"Leave me alone, Kera." I didn't want to see her with George. I didn't want to talk to George. They were a happy couple. At the moment, I hated all happy couples and the people who were part of them. Those people had something I didn't-the courage to work through their fears.

"If you're sure…" Frowning, she padded away from me.

"Are you okay?" Mel asked a few minutes later. She held out her drink tray.

"I'm fine." I ignored the offered drinks.

"Kera says you were short with her."

"I said I'm fine, okay."

She studied me. "What's going on, Naomi? You look like death. Colin can-"

"Leave me alone, Mel. Please." My voice cracked, sounding more tortured than I'd ever heard another human being. I was breaking inside. Crumbling. Dissolving.

Dying.

"Don't talk to Colin. Don't talk to anyone about me."

Without another word, she backed away from me. The traitor walked right over to Colin, even though I'd told her not to, and said something to him. He looked at me and frowned, then walked right over to Royce and said something to him.

Royce, who had been in the middle of a laughing conversation with his mom, turned toward me and frowned. Concern darkened his eyes. In the next instant, he began walking toward me. It happened in slow motion, each step a hollow thud in my ears. My heartbeat quickened its pace and my blood chilled. My skin heated.

Too good to be true.

Cheat.

Hurt.

Heartache.

I didn't give him a chance to reach me. I ran. Just ran. Out of the ballroom, out of the hotel and down the street. I think I heard Royce call my name, but I kept running. I had to get away. Couldn't face him right now.

Toward the end of the block, I was out of breath. Tears burned my eyes and streamed down my cheeks as I hailed a cab.

At home, I quickly changed out of my dress and packed a bag. Royce called six times, but I didn't pick up the phone. The first message was a concerned, "What's going on? Why did you run, sweetheart? Do you need time alone?"

The second: "Call me when you get this, sweetheart. Where are you? I'm worried about you."

By the sixth, he uttered a guttural, "Damn it, Naomi. Call me."

I heard cars in the background, and knew he was on his way to my apartment. He only thinks he loves you, my deepest fears said, still clamoring to be heard. One day he'll be happy you left him.

"Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up." Those voices were making me crazy, were spinning my world out of control. I had to get out of here. Had to be alone. Had to find peace.

I went to the only place no one would think to look for me. The airport. I bought the cheapest ticket possible-which happened to be to Oklahoma City, the place Royce had taken me last-and waited in the terminal.

My blood cooled with every second that passed.

When they finally called my flight, I began shaking. I got on the plane, though, one step at a time. You're doing the right thing. A marriage to Royce would never have lasted. I clenched the armrests as we took off and cried silently as we soared through the air. My shaking never ceased, and yes, I threw up in the barf bag. Several times.

Surprisingly, I made it to Oklahoma City alive and well. I plopped in the first unoccupied chair I came to, trying to breathe. Trying to calm my nerves. Now you don't have to deal with Royce. Now he can't hurt you.

"Shut up," I screamed.

Several people whipped around to look at me, but no one approached me or commented. And I found, as I sat there, that the ringing in my ears was slowly dying. My fears were finally quieting.

And for the first time in hours, I began to breathe. In. Out. I took in as much of the precious air as I could. All the while, people maneuvered around my seat, hustling past me. I watched them. Couples, singles, children. They were all headed somewhere, going about their lives and living as best they could.

Yes, they were living.

I hadn't been, I realized in a sudden burst of clarity. Not really. Only with Royce had I come truly alive. In fact, before him, I'd been living in slow motion, going about my daily life but never forging a real future for myself.

Like my fear of flying, my relationship fears had weighed me down and kept me in one place. Always that fear of crashing and burning-in a plane or out. Didn't matter. I'd been afraid. I'd let the fear rule me.