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Once in the gondola, Slade’s arm wrapped around me, silent tears slip down my cheeks. It’s so perfect. The moon is bright in the sky, the light reflecting on the water. The lights of the city sparkle around us as we glide through the water. It’s the ultimate romantic moment.

Yet pain is searing through my chest. I can’t even explain what’s wrong.

A busy hand. A faded smile. A distracted look.

That’s all it took to destroy me? Am I really that delicate? I can’t think of one clever thing to say to lighten the mood.

Slade wraps his arm around me a little tighter and kisses my neck. I know he tastes the salt of my tears. I know he senses my unease.

He doesn’t say anything, but I know he knows. I can’t hide it.

Our romantic ride comes to an end, and we set off toward the hotel. We need to pack and try to sleep before getting up at oh-dark-thirty, to leave this incredible city. Venice has stolen my heart.

Slade would normally be on one of his comedic rants about now. I know he’s sad to be leaving his newfound family.

We arrive at the hotel in silence. We’re never silent. Conversation is always flowing between us. I don’t look at him during the elevator ride, but I feel his eyes on me.

I’m ruining his last night in Venice, but I can’t force a smile. I just can’t.

We arrive in our suite, and I head for the safety of my private room. I close the door behind me. I grab my suitcase and start packing. I don’t want to leave. I could easily stay here for another week. This trip brought us closer as a couple. I’m not quite sure why it’s tearing us apart now. The reason feels nebulous; I can’t grasp it and hold on to it.

I fall to the floor, my back against the wall, my knees to my chest. I bury my head in my knees and let out the sobs that have been brewing for the last several hours, deep racking sobs that make my entire body shake.

I’ve decided insecurity has more power than it should. It lies all the time. No one should ever listen to insecurity. She’s downright cruel. She tells women they’re fat when they’re perfect. She tells women they’re ugly when they’re beautiful. And she tells me I’m losing Slade when I have no evidence to support the suspicion. I shouldn’t believe her.

The ripple effects of Blu’s actions are far reaching.

To all the people who have ever been told to just “get over it” after a traumatic event, I see you. It’s not that simple.

I feel a hand on my back, rubbing gently in circular motions. I didn’t even hear Slade enter my room. He waits until my tears are spent before he stops rubbing my back.

Then he sits across from me, his back leaning against the bed. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” he says quietly.

His calm demeanor makes me cry a little more. He’s so perfect. How do I put this into words? “I think…I think I’m scared of losing you. It happened to me once. It could happen again.”

Confusion covers his handsome face.

“I’m sorry. Let’s talk about this later. This is your trip. You just had to say goodbye to your family. I should be the one comforting you.” I wipe away my tears with shaking hands.

“No, let’s talk about this now. I don’t understand. Did I do something to hurt you?” I’m not sure how he remains so composed. He’s not a man who’s quick to anger, another thing I love about him.

When I think back on that speck of a moment in time, the one that set me off, I cringe. Yet, it still hurts. More than it should.

“I’ll be fine. I’m letting my past affect my future. Sometimes everything that happened hits me. It hits me hard.” I wrap my arms around my knees again.

“Are you saying you’re crying for Blu? That you miss him?” It’s the only time I’ve ever heard Slade call Blu by his name instead of the blue man.

“No, I’m not crying for Blu. But what happened affected me more than I realized. Today, when your father asked if he could come to our wedding and when he spoke of grandchildren, your entire demeanor changed. I smiled at you and you didn’t smile back. I reached for your hand, but you didn’t take mine.”

It sounds so silly when I say it out loud.

“From that moment on, I don’t know what happened to me. Just last night, you were joking about our honeymoon. You’ve told me how you feel. I know these things. But the expression on your face today when it was hitting you that this might be real, that it might really happen, it spooked me. I think I know what I saw on your face. Doubt. Uncertainty. Fear. I mean, those thingsshouldbe there with how little time we’ve actually known each other. I get it. But I can’t face being left again. It brought everything to the surface, all the pain and heartache. Suddenly, I wondered what I was doing here. I felt like I didn’t belong. I can’t face rejection again. I just can’t.”

Tears are still pouring down my face, but I’m not sobbing anymore. It’s an improvement.

Slade bows his head for a moment and sighs. I’ve never seen him look so serious, even when he found out about his father.

Slade holds out his arms to me. I don’t hesitate. I crawl over to him, sit between his legs, and let him embrace me. I’m practically in a fetal position. But he holds me tight as I rest my head on his chest. I’m a mess. A blubbering, whimpering mess. I thought he’d seen me at my lowest.

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