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Pretending I want to run to him and snuggle safely into those broad shoulders is the first thing that’s been easy in months.

“My love!” He opens his arms.

“Reggie!” I squeal and run to him, arms wide despite the bags banging against my hip.

He’s amazing. Doesn’t miss a beat. “Therese, sweetheart!” His eyes turn wide and warm, and he holds me to his chest.

SOMETHING IS WRONG.

The second Therese’s eyes meet mine, I’m lost in a fog of happy memories that don’t even exist. Walking with her in autumn leaves. Dining by candlelight. Laughing with the radio blaring, singing along with the songs at the top of our lungs.

She smiles at me like she’s known me forever, eyes shining bright with leftover tears.

I know it’s just an act, but when she makes contact with me, she clings, trembling, with her head on my shoulder.

I bury my lips in her hair, whispering, “You’re safe. It’s all okay.”

And the last, tiny spark of hope and life that’s carried in the pocket where my soul ought to be fans into a flame. Something in my chest is full.

Therese murmurs, “Thank you,” into my shoulder before she pulls back to beam at me, the anxiety in her dark blue eyes fading slightly. She nods a little, still giving me that adoring, trusting look.

My gut tightens. Her smile is genuine and warm. Honestly, truly genuine. All my senses that usually stay on high alert when I’m tasked with protecting someone relax.

Snap out of it!

The woman is an incredible actress. She gave that same kind of adoring look to Matteo.

Yeah... but she thought he was her ticket to a great future. I’m her ticket to staying alive. Maybe itisgenuine.

I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter why she looks at me like that as long as I keep her alive.

Kim giggles next to us as she saunters up, all smiles and relaxed shoulders. She’s a consummate professional, this woman. I know that she’s on high alert, but I think you’d have to have supernatural senses to tell.

“Okay, you two. Save it for the church! Reggie, so good to see you again! You look great. Therese, stop hogging the man candy. You get him for the rest of your life, let me get one hug. Maid of Honor rules.”

I join in the good-natured laughter between the two women, but my mind is racing.

Man candy? Me? I’m not even a man, just man-shaped, wearing my only suit, and I never did find a tie. Under the jacket and stretched white shirt, cracks and fissures in the clay have formed like scars and lines of muscle. I suddenly swallow. I’m glad I’m not actually marrying Therese, not actually her husband. If I were, she’d have to see this body.

But Kim said man candy? Is that what “normal” people see? What does Therese see?

And, also, is that really the most pressing matter, Reg? No!

Church? Maid-of-honor? I try not to bark out questions. Over the top of Therese’s head, I meet Jakob’s eyes and notice they’re sliding past me—looking behind. Over Kim’s teasing laughter, I hear two doors shut.

We’re going to be followed.

“Are you ready, honey? Do you need to stop anywhere?” I ask Therese. Should I call her honey? I check her face for signs of annoyance, but there’s only relief and a little crease between her eyes that tells me fear is still lurking.

“I have everything I need in my bags. I’m ready when you are.”

I’M NOT READY. I’Mnot ready for the way it feels when I hug the “monster,” also known as Reginald Gray, who looks as far from monstrous as possible, minus the skin tone. He’s wide and solid. Hugging him feels like slipping into a safe haven. His arms are protective, but his hands are gentlemanly. That is something I couldn’t say about Matteo or any of the other jocks I dated in high school and college.

I’m not ready to hold his hand and stroll to a shiny Jaguar in the airport parking lot and sit in the backseat beside him, pulling nervously at the summery white dress I’m wearing under my light pink traveling jacket.

“The gray Toyota,” Kim whispers, sitting in the front seat and pulling out her phone.

“I thought so, too,” Minegold murmurs, putting his car in gear. I wonder if Kim will notice that he doesn’t reflect in the rearview mirror or the window. “This place is a madhouse. I will be able to lose them.”