"I don't think I'm ready to get married."

I feel almost like I did when I thought Harry was dead, like I've been punched in the stomach and my breakfast is going to come back up. Tears sting my eyes as my ears start to ring. I never thought I would feel anything so painful again, but I think that this may be even more intense. It's the pain of rejection.

"What?" My voice squeaks.

"I'm just trying to work through some stuff. It doesn't have anything to do with you," he tells me in a sickeningly flat voice.

"You're talking about calling off our wedding, and you're telling me it doesn't have anything to do with me?" The pitch of my voice is rising although I'm desperately trying to maintain control. "It has everything to do with me!"

"Kate, it's not like that. I love you. We'll still get married. I've just got to get past some stuff first." His voice is so even that I feel like I want to slap him. How can he not have any emotion at all while he's telling me any of this? Has he turned off part of himself? This is not the Harry I know.

"Why don't you talk to me?" I cry. "You know you can trust me with anything. I want to help you."

I take his dishes to the sink and start washing frantically. My back is turned toward him, but I know he can hear me sobbing.

Why won't he talk?!

Finally, I hear his voice. It's almost a whisper. "I can't talk to you because it is about you."

A new wave of nausea hits me. Was he lying to me a minute ago? He just said it wasn't about me, but now he's saying it is about me.

"You just said it wasn't about me. Which is it?!" I demand.

What if he doesn't love me anymore? I panic. Did he lie to me about that, too? He's trying to figure out how to break it to me without breaking me.

He doesn't respond. I can tell by his face that he's processing several conflicting emotions.

I swallow hard. "Fine," I say quietly, hoping I can staunch the flow of tears until I get to my room. "I will pack my things." I shakily make my way toward the stairs, biting my lip until I can taste blood.

"Katie," he whispers.

I turn back toward him, gasping for breath.

"I still love you. Please stay." He doesn't look at me, but I nod anyway and head to my room.

I can't make sense of what just happened, but I spend hours crying. Eventually, I dial Scarlett's number. "Can you come over?" My voice trembles, making me sound like a little girl and I know she knows something is terribly wrong.

"I'll be there in five minutes," she says. I'm glad she lives just down the street.

I wait at the door until she comes up the walk. I open the door and lead her quickly to my room where I dissolve in yet another round of tears. She puts her arm around me and I weep on her shoulder. Gradually I find control once again and spill the events of the past few hours.

Scarlett's eyes grow wide with shock. "Really? That doesn't sound like Harry at all."

"I know," I lament. "Ever since I took him to therapy a few days ago, he has completely shut down. It's so weird."

"Did something happen at therapy that might have upset him?" She presses.

"I was talking with the therapist about running. She made some stupid comment about me pushing Harry in a wheelchair if he wanted to run with me. She wasn't very encouraging. I found it pretty insensitive, actually."

Scarlett's eyebrows crease into a frown. "He loved running, Kate. I mean, he lived for running. I'm sure it was a challenge to let go of all of his other sports, but when he had to stop running probably felt like a part of him was dying."

"I hate that he can't run with me," I tell her desperately. "It's my release and I wish we could share it. But, I don't know. Maybe I should find something we can do together."

She offers to talk to Harry and I graciously nod.

"Thank you, Scarlett. I'm glad we're friends," I tell her as she envelopes me in another hug.

"It will be okay," she assures me. "Harry is in love with you and that will never change. Whatever he's working through, it's something he has to work through with God helping him. Just pray for him. And let me pray for you."

She gently puts her arm around my shoulders and confidently prays, "Lord, our God, I pray for Harry. I pray that you would give him grace for whatever he is going through right now. Please comfort both Kate and Harry as they're hurting. Give Kate an understanding heart and forgiveness for Harry. Most of all, give her your peace. In Jesus' Name, Amen."

"Thank you, Scarlett." I hope that one day I will have the confidence that Scarlett has, that God hears and answers my prayers.

I start packing a small overnight bag. I decide that I will take tomorrow off from work and head back to Eagle Canyon for a long weekend to give Harry some space and give my head a chance to clear. I need to take care of some wedding plans there, but now I don't even know how to proceed.

Maybe I should just cancel everything.

When I go back downstairs, I don't see Harry. He must be in his room. I knock on his door and carefully inch the door open. His eyes meet mine, but he is still stoic. "I'm going to go home for the weekend," I tell him. "I took tomorrow off, but I will be back on Sunday night. I have to work Monday." I kiss him on the forehead and walk out swiftly before he has a chance to say anything.

I text Fiona: Coming home 4 weekend. Tell Mom & Dad. Be home around 7. I take a deep breath and start my truck. I can't cry while I'm driving. I will wait until I get home.

If I have any tears left.

After a dinner of my mom's best comfort food, I tell my family what happened. I am fully expecting my parents – or at least my mom – to say, "I told you so." But they don't. They just listen. They let me cry. And they listen some more.

Fiona sleeps next to me in my bed. I'm thankful to be home and even though I'm thoroughly exhausted, I can't fall asleep right away. I know I should pray. I should be asking God to help me. But I don't know how. It was one thing to find strength for Harry when he was in a coma. It's another thing to find the strength to battle feelings of hurt, anger, rejection. If it's one thing I learned early on, it's that God doesn't mess with free will and I can't just pray for him to force Harry to be in love with me again.

I have to say something to start the conversation, right?

God, please help me. I'm mostly mouthing out the words because I don't want to wake Fiona. I stop there. I'm not sure what else to say. But even with those words, I feel a warmth in my heart. I know I'm turning in the right direction.

I start to think about the married couples I know, especially the ones who have been married for a long time and I wonder what makes it work.

My aunt Linda and uncle Daniel come to mind. They survived the worst offense to any marriage. Uncle Daniel had an affair and they almost divorced. I was too young to really understand what was happening, but my aunt Linda lived with us for several months during that time. She and I grew very close, and she told me, much later, about everything she and Uncle Daniel went through. They went to marriage counseling, but they also grew immensely in their faith during that time. Now, all I know is that they are the most happily married couple I've ever met. I'm sure it wasn't easy for them. There must have been a lot of forgiveness involved.

They moved from Eagle Canyon several years ago to be closer to Uncle Daniel's family in California. I miss Aunt Linda like crazy. Everything with Harry has happened so fast that I haven't told her much about him. I've sent her a few Facebook messages, and that's it. Maybe I should call her.

Then I think of my parents and wonder if they've always been happy. I can remember small fights now and then, but they always respected each other. I assume that the most difficult period in their marriage was when my mom went through a deep depression when I was in middle school. I didn't realize until I was older that my mother had battled depression. She was so withdrawn and angry during that time. Kind of like Harry had been yesterday. I'm sure that took a toll on my parents' marriage. I wonder how they got through it.

With a sigh, I realize that no one is perfect. Not even my wonderfully handsome, sweet, kind fiancé is perfect. I know that he makes me stronger. But Harry can't be my only source of strength.

I will have to find my strength in the One who has no weakness.

I close my eyes and finally feel peaceful enough to fall asleep. The last words in my mind are, Please, God, help me to be strong. And please help Harry.

I decide in the morning that I will not focus on any wedding planning – or canceling – this weekend. I will just enjoy being home. Being me. Letting my family spoil me.

My mom suggests we go out for lunch on Friday. There aren't many tourists right now, so Eagle Canyon is a little quieter than it was at the holidays. My mom pulls in at the diner.

This is going to be torture, I think, remembering my outing with Harry the second time we met. I don't say anything.

My mom must have a special instinct for such things because she quickly suggests, "There's a new little pizza place on Main Street..."

I just nod and breathe a sigh of relief, telling her, "Pizza sounds perfect."

As soon as we order lunch, I ask my mom nervously, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"Was it hard on your marriage when you were depressed?"

A thoughtful look fills her eyes. She eventually starts with, "Marriage isn't easy, Katherine. Any couple that has been married for longer than a few years will tell you that. It requires work and self-sacrifice."

I raise my eyebrows as I wait for her to answer the rest of my question.

"Of course, it was hard on our marriage. It took Dad a long time to figure out that I wasn't mad at him. It took me a long time to figure that out, too. Depression is like that, unfortunately. I often presents itself as anger. I felt so mad and frustrated and discouraged all the time and I tried to come up with a reason why. I started to blame Dad and all the circumstances in my life."

"Do you think Harry is depressed?" I ask.

"He could be," she agrees. "Most people go through some kind of depression in their lives. He has been through so much in such a short amount of time. So have you."

I swallow my pride and admit to her, "I can see why you wanted us to slow down."

"This is good practice for you and Harry," my mom says. "A successful relationship isn't about making yourself happy. It's about making the other person happy, putting their needs before your own, standing by them no matter what."

My throat tightens. I want to be there for Harry, but what if he doesn't want me anymore?

"I behaved terribly sometimes and I treated Dad so poorly, I couldn't believe he didn't just walk out," she smiles an embarrassed smile. "He just told me that he loved me every. single. day."

No wonder I love my dad so much. He's so solid. So committed. So loving.

She finishes by saying, "You have to find other people to rely on in addition to each other – friends and family. If you only rely on each other, you will both burn out really fast."

I know that I have the support to remain loyal to Harry, for whatever he's going through. It still doesn't feel good, but I know I'm doing the right thing. Someday, Harry will have to love me through something difficult.

I have a remarkably good time with my mom. It shouldn't surprise me, but maybe this is the beginning of me truly beginning to act like an adult. I appreciate our conversation. I'm also incredibly thankful that I've managed to let Harry out of my mind for a few hours.

The rest of the weekend is spent watching movies, running, and even playing video games with my little brother. It turns out to be the perfect break as well as a decent distraction.

Late on Saturday afternoon, my mom needs a few things for dinner, so I offer to run to the grocery store. While I'm perusing the dairy section for whipping cream, I hear a familiar voice, "Katherine?" It's the German-accented pronunciation of my name, coming from Oma. I turn to face her just as Gemma comes around the corner with a grocery cart.

"Kate!" She exclaims. "I didn't know you were here."

I try to muster my most genuine smile and receive her hug and Oma's peck on the cheek. "I'm surprised to see you, too," I tell Gemma.

"Oh, yeah. I just came to visit Oma for the weekend. We decided to stay at the cabin," Gemma informs me. "Where's Harry?"

As much as I try, I can't hide my injury. My face displays it clear as day.

"What happened?" Gemma asks, gravely concerned. I'm grateful that Oma has already moved ahead of us to continue shopping. I don't know how she would take the news.

I stifle my tears and tell her bluntly, "Harry is having second thoughts."

"What?!" She practically screams. "No way! Harry loves you, Kate. What on earth is going on?"

I'm not sure what to say, so I just repeat what he told me. "He said he's not ready to get married, that's all. So, I'm just trying to give him some space."

Gemma is clearly as bewildered as I am. She squeezes me tight for a long moment. It would normally make me feel awkward to be hugging someone in the grocery store, but I'm finding immense comfort in the woman who will hopefully still be my sister-in-law soon.

"I'm sorry, Kate. This must be terrible for you, but I know Harry. There's no way he's letting you go. Just hang in there, okay?" Gemma's words hearten me considerably.

I tell her that I will call her later in the week. "Say goodbye to Oma for me," I tell her as we part. I hope it won't be goodbye forever.

After church on Sunday morning, I ask my parents for one last bit of advice before I leave. Neither one of them jumps right in but my dad finally says, "Give him some time." It's not really the groundbreaking counsel I was hoping for, but it's a start. "He said he still loves you. You have no reason not to believe him." I agree with his reasoning, but I didn't see it in Harry's eyes, even though I heard the words from his mouth.

"What should I do about the wedding?"

Mom advises me to wait a week. If Harry doesn't make any decisions, we will have to postpone. At least. The thought makes me sick after all the planning I've done in such a short amount of time. Luckily, our locations will be fairly easy to re-book if we have to.

What about invitations? They're ready to go out. They're even stamped. I decide to go with my mom's advice and wait one week. One week. That's all the time I can afford. It's a good thing that my mom and Mrs. Styles had sent out some simple save the date postcards while Harry was still in the hospital.

My parents kiss and hug me profusely before I leave to return to Madison.

"Don't worry, honey," my father says soothingly. "Everything will work out."

I give a small nod and pray that he's right.

On the drive home, I pray. "God, please help me to love Harry no matter what. You told me to trust You. Please help me. And please help Harry."

* * * * *

Any thoughts?