with it. She loved him more than she thought she loved herself. And so, as a sign of her love, she took a leap, knowing she might take a terrible fall.
The small bouquet in her hands shook in response to her trembling fingers. Sweat formed on her neck as she walked down the white runner leading to the gazebo. “Here, There and Everywhere,” the Beatles’ song Troy always said reminded him of her, played as she joined him in front of the judge, a tall man with a kind face. She took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and made a choice. She chose to marry the man she loved.
Their vows were simple. They would love, honor, and cherish for as long as they both should live. They were pronounced man and wife and they kissed under the stars.
“We did it, Rigby,” Troy murmured into her ear. Elle swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around his neck, seeking comfort and solace.
They returned to their suite, where they toasted with two sparkling glasses of champagne. The sweet intoxicating liquid helped ease Elle’s anxiety and she and Troy made love for hours. Troy fell asleep with his arms wrapped around Elle. But she couldn’t sleep. She simply stared at the wall, hoping for answers. Hoping for an epiphany. Hoping she did the right thing.
The next morning, Elle awoke before Troy, and a stiff pain formed in her chest. She slid out of his embrace and eased herself out of the warm bed. When she walked toward the bathroom, she saw it.
The dress. Her beautiful lace dress was draped across the chest at the foot of the bed. But instead of reminiscing in the blissful memories of the night before, she looked at the gorgeous garment with regret.
Regret and an overwhelming sense of panic. Sheer panic. That voice she’d suppressed before walking down the aisle was back. And it was dominating her psyche.
Her lungs felt as if they might collapse within her chest as she stroked the lace of the gown. She closed her eyes tight, withdrawing her hand from the fabric. Her eyes moistened as she dashed to the safety of the bathroom.
She locked the door behind her before grasping her hair with her hand. She lifted the seat of the toilet and waited for sickness to arrive. Her stomach was doing backflips over and over, so much so that nausea pervaded her body. She heaved again and again into the bowl, needing this horrible feeling to flee her. But it only grew worse with each passing minute. She clutched the ceramic bowl, hanging her head as sweat poured from her skin.
A knock at the door startled her. “Rigby, you okay?”
Troy sounded worried. No, more than worried. He sounded terrified.
“Just a minute,” she managed to squeak out. She wiped her slick forehead, attempting to calm herself down. But her stomach continued to tumble within her belly and sweat continued to bead on her forehead, neck, and arms.
“You’re scaring me, Rigby. Are you sick?”
“I don’t know. Just—I need a minute.”
“Okay. I’m here.”
With shaking arms and legs, Elle managed to climb to her feet and pull her robe to the floor. She crumpled herself on top of the fluffy robe, clutching the fabric in her fist. Tears streamed down her cheeks and landed on the soft terry.
It was a mistake. All of it.
She knew it in her gut. The self-saboteur in her was alive and well, and confident she wasn’t ready to be someone’s wife. She was lying on the bathroom floor, suffering from a panic attack because deep within her soul, she knew she was not capable of being joined to someone for the rest of her life. At least not yet. Not at the new age of twenty-five.
I’m too young. Too immature. Not ready. Not settled.
The thoughts swirled in her head, combined with an overwhelming amount of pure guilt.
On the other side of the door was a man who loved her. Who was ready, mature, settled. A man who would do just about anything for her. And she knew that, by day’s end, she would break his heart. That thought killed her, paralyzed her, and left her lying helpless on a bathrobe in the middle of their bathroom.
When her pulse returned to normal and the sweat had stopped forming on her brow, she was able to catch her breath.
You love him. You want this. You love him. Pull it together.
One hour after she first collapsed onto the bathroom floor, Elle emerged