Spending more time around the stables with Julian managed to restore my mood. When I return to the house, Sam and Eleanor are at the front porch having breakfast. Together with them is another woman I have never seen before.

Maybe it's the wedding planner? I probe, recalling last night's chat.

"Hello. I'm back." I grin widely, presenting myself.

"Oh, it's good that you're here. Meet Grace Rodgers—your wedding planner!" Eleanor announces sassily as I wander toward them. "Grace, this is the bride-to-be. Beautiful, isn't she?" They all look at me.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Um . . . hi, Grace." I regard the dark skinned woman with terrific curves befitting the denim jumpsuit she's wearing.

"Hi, Kira," Grace returns, and a big smile crosses her face. "Of course, she is beautiful. Congratulations, dear. A wedding is a big and wonderful step for us women to own it."

Own it. Her words are inspiring.

Well, it's happening at last. My wedding planner is here, ready to discuss my wedding. I sit down ready to listen to whatever she has to say. But my head is all over the place and miserably I fail to concentrate as I probably should.

"Are you okay, honey?" Eleanor asks, making everyone eye me with attention.

"Yeah," I answer quickly, derailed from my trance. "You were saying?" I think I got lost for a while.

"We're asking which one you'd prefer between traditional, romantic, and this contemporary decoration theme? I'm aware that you want something simple, but elegance must be incorporated, right?" Grace tries to be cheerful, and her mood is infectious.

"You're right. Well, I prefer something romantic and a bit traditional considering that we'll be surrounded by nature," I say and the subject continues.

After the meeting with the wedding planner, which was somehow funny as I got to laugh and hear everyone's opinion, we head to the city. Now we're meeting the dressmaker, who happens to be Eleanor's designer friend.

God, this whole thing is tiring for my laziness. Can't we just wear grandma's dress like the old times? I muse inside, sadly reminding myself that I don't have a grandma anyway. Maybe I could've used my mom's if she were still alive—I suddenly miss her.

"Eleanor, darling!" A man snaps cheerily upon our arrival. Judging from his classy clothes, I believe he's the designer. "What an honor to have you here!" Slim and blonde, he is quite a sassy guy whose smile hardly vanishes.

"Ricky." Eleanor shares a hug with him, as Sam and I roam our gaze around the store. "I told you I need a gorgeous wedding dress and here is my daughter in law," she says, talking about me.

"Oh, gorgeous." Ricky's ingenuous eyes drink me in with feminine decorum, scanning my figure—I suppose. "You're splendid, darling. I could even use you for my next designs."

"Wow. Thanks." I smile.

Moments later we begin doing what has brought us here, and I'm so glad.

"I believe with her skin tone, this amazing hair, and such a fine bone structure, this dress will look amazing!" Ricky states.

"What do you say, Kira? Do you absolutely like this?" Eleanor asks, her voice warm.

"Yeah, it's fine," I reply, my eyes on the sketch of my wedding dress, something fancy and Disney-like.

Do I like it? I honestly don't know.

"Kiki, you're going to look amazing in this!" Sam chirps enthusiastically, eyeing the same design. Everyone seems to acquiesce. "Aw, I also want to get married now," she adds, making me laugh softly.

Ricky takes my measurements after offering champagne flutes to us. How classy! Everything keeps moving so fast and accurately that it scares me. But no, I got to own it.

"Eleanor, darling, leave everything to me," Ricky says once we're done with the measurements.

"Okay, Ricky, make it the best," Eleanor insists and it's time to go. "Girls, I have to return to the office now, but Peter will take you home," she tells us.

"Okay," I answer and thank heavens that we're done with this.

Do wedding preparations need to be this exhausting? Now I want to get married as soon as possible and skip this stage if necessary.

Back at the Ranch, I decide to chill in Sam's room to avoid feeling down more than I already do. I'm still anxious and I can't tell why.

"Okay, tell me what's wrong with you," Sam inquires after peeling off her dress and depositing it on the bed.

"What do you mean?" I reply with a sigh, playing dumb. Sam frowns at me and I laugh a bit. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just tired and I should probably get some sleep." I yawn deeply.

"That's my quip, Kira. You never use that line even when you're tired to death," Sam says sternly while giving me a concerned glare. "What's wrong, Kiki? You look like you're about to attend your own funeral and not the wedding." She sits down next to me on the bench.

I know. It's my wedding that we're busy preparing but why am I not excited? Why am I feeling scared as if being married to the man I love with everything I have is the most frightening thing to do?

Swallowing hard, I take a deep sigh while rubbing my temples. "I don't know, Sam." I smile feebly.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Sam asks, bemused. "And again, that's my quip. You always know things, and I'm always on the crossroad about things. What's happening to you?" She looks seriously concerned.

"You're crazy." I manage to laugh faintly, but Sam doesn't.

"Are you feeling stressed because of the wedding? Or missing Liam, maybe?" she teases, and maybe I'm suffering from both.

"I'm feeling anxious all the time," I confess. "I don't know why exactly, I just feel so . . . so under pressure, and it's like I'm losing my mind. I know everything is going well. I have you, I have Eleanor, I have Grace, but still . . . but still I don't know why I'm anxious. I can't even sleep at night since I arrived here."

"Oh girl. Maybe it's what they call wedding jilts?" Sam suggests, and I shrug. "When is Liam coming?" she asks.

"Tomorrow or the day after? Let's say in three days," I answer.

"Well, maybe he'll be able to heal your little disease," Sam muses. I roll my eyes at her and we both laugh gently. "But in the meantime, I could give you something that would help you relax for a while. You look almost sick to me."

"What is it?" I narrow my eyes at the suggestion.

Sam gets up and starts rummaging through her handbag. Seconds later she emerges with some pills. "Here, take this and some water." She moves toward her bedside table, grabs the jug and pours water into a glass.

"What is this?" I ask cautiously upon holding the little bottle from Sam's hand. "Alprazolam . . . Anxiety pills?" I utter aloud, eyeing Sam fixedly. "Why do you have these, Sam? And it's almost a half." I shake the bottle, my mind alarmed.

She uses anxiety pills?

"Well, I just have it." Sam hands me the glass of water.

"Sam, why do you have the anxiety pills?" I ask sternly and she drops on the bed, ignoring my inquiry. "Samantha Ford!" I snap.

"Nothing, Kira! Chill out! I just use them when I feel nervous or something. You don't need to—" Sam stops her speech and immediately stares at me, who's currently frowning at this little discovery "Did you hear that?" she asks excitedly.

"Hear what?" I snort, my mind full.

"That sound." Sam grins.

I try focusing on the sound that feels like the sound of . . . a helicopter? Sam quickly peeps through the window. Please let it be Liam. I pray inwardly, wishfully hoping that he's really here.

"Is it the one?" I ask Sam, my heart pounding faster than usual, the sound heavily approaching as though the helicopter is right outside the mansion.

"Well . . ." Sam grins from ear to ear, adding much to my curiosity. "Well, I think it's the . . . Chopper 64!" she announces loudly, and I instantly jog toward the window.

"He's here?" I murmur, something intense fills my heart with joy. Like idiots, we stay put watching the black helicopter landing slowly on the grass, flailing everything around it.

My fiancé is here, dammit. I'm reeling inside and the two months of not seeing him feel like water under the bridge.

"What are you waiting for? Go get your man!" Sam snaps and I waste no time storming out of the room.

I can't conceal my smile as I reach outside. The cold air slaps my face but I don't care. I just want to see him, hug him, kiss him, and do whatever I please with him. He's my man, right? I grin and my subconscious is sighing nastily at these profane thoughts in my head.

The helicopter has fully landed.

The sun is starting to set, the sky golden and beautiful. From the distance see a familiar figure of the most breathtaking man I've ever known. My heart skips a beat. Liam is here and the mere sight of him makes me feel rejuvenated as though I wasn't gloomy at all some moment ago.

Smiling, I take a halt, watching Liam standing beside the helicopter while taking the glasses off his eyes. He gazes at me and our eyes link in that magical way that resembles the first time I met him as a grown up man, oblivious that he was my childhood crush. Fate has its mysterious ways.

He smiles at me and my heart erupts into a million fireworks.

Okay, stop being pathetic and go hug him! My nosy subconscious snaps.

However, just as I'm about to jog towards Liam, I see him moving back toward the helicopter and in a second he's helping a woman getting off by holding her hand. I stoutly stop in my tracks, unable to understand the scene playing before my eyes.

Who is this woman? I hold my breath as she smiles at Liam, and he does the same; and this confuses me a bit.

"Stop imagining weird things, Kiki," Sam utters from behind me, startling me.

"Stop doing that! I'm not imagining anything," I deny profusely.

"Then why are you stuck over here?" Sam smiles teasingly.

"Because I—" I stutter.

Of course I'm imagining things. What a fool. I need to stop this immediately.

"See? My baby is jealous already, and she doesn't even know who the new brunette is. Well, who would've thought?" Sam keeps mocking me.

"Shut up." I swear she's not helping at all.

Lost into this predicament, someone else emerges from the chopper and once again I find myself smiling at the sight. My fiancé's best friend waves his hand toward us, grinning like a school boy.

Confused or not, I finally gather some strength and walk over to meet these people I hold dear in my heart.

Ignoring any possibility, I speed up and hurl myself towards Liam, who takes me wholeheartedly in his arms. Everything around me ceases to exist when I finally hug him. My arms are wrapped around his neck, and his about my waist, as we thaw into each other's warmth.

"My love," Liam breathes into my hair, and his scent fills me with assurance that it's not a dream.

"Hmm. You're finally here," I utter as I pull my face back.

"Yes, Ms. Jones. Don't you believe it?" Liam says, his face glowing with joy, his tone playful. I just smile, stupefied. "Um . . . Maybe this will do." He takes my lips with his and kisses me longingly.

Holy cow, I want everyone to disappear but it's impossible—we're outside.

Damn, I missed him. I melt in the moment, oblivious of the audience.

"Ahem!" A clearing of the throat cuts off our lovebirds' moment, and both of us turn around with big smiles. "I'm not expecting the same VIP treatment, Professor, but don't I get a little smile in my direction?" Malik says, his tone as playful as ever.

"Malik!" Like a child, I abandon Liam and lunge towards the handsome Arab for a sweet hug. Taking me in his arms, Malik lifts and spins me around gleefully. "Jeez, Malik! I missed you." I'm giggling like a toddler.

"I missed you more, Professor. How are you?" Malik puts me down, catching his own breath. His big grey eyes shine terrifically, the country breeze a fine tune for this happy reunion.

"Great," I return, feeling the internal balance of my soul restored once again.

"Samantha." Liam's voice draws our attention as Sam joins us. She and Liam share a quick hug, and both smile casually. "Are you good?"

"I'm good," Sam answers. "How are you both? Malik?" She regards the handsome Arab.

"Very good, Sam. Now that I'm back home," Malik replies matter-of-factly, followed by his famous diabolic laugh.

As they chat along, my attention is solely on the lady who looks a bit nervous while smiling subtly.

"Um, hi," I greet her.

She is around my age, calm-looking and beautiful, with a look that suggests she's either an Indian or Arab—I can't clearly tell. She is wearing a white skinny jeans and a blue dress top.

"Hi," she utters with a small smile that makes her resemble Priyanka Chopra for some reason.

"Well, this is Roshni. She's Malik's guest," Liam introduces her to me and Sam.

Eyeing Malik, I notice some strange cloud surrounding him. He seems uncomfortable . . . displeased even.

What's going on here? Curiosity fills my head.

"Welcome, Roshni." I give her a cordial hug.

Sam does the same, making Roshni smile a bit wider than before. And at the back of my mind I can feel that there's more to know about this lady.