Meant to Marry Me

Bree woke up to the sound of the ocean calling her, both figuratively and literally. She sat up in bed and looked straight out at the crashing waves. It couldn't possibly be that late as the sun was still in the process of painting the horizon with brilliant coral colors, but she wasn't going back to sleep. It was hard enough to believe that she was awake now; everything that had happened the evening before seemed like a surreal dream.

How could Trent be marrying her former roommate's sister? How could Trent be marrying anyone at all? Even though she hadn't seen or spoken to him in years, she'd always harbored the desire to see him again. She'd hoped that they'd bump into each other, as they had that time at the convenience store, strike up a conversation, and both realize how much they meant to the other.

Of course, it seemed silly now, especially since she was sitting in a resort room he'd paid for so that he could marry someone else. But the dream had lived inside of her for so long, it was hard to imagine life without thoughts that someday it would happen.

Bree stretched and tried to decide what to do with her day. Monica had given her an agenda before she'd left the dinner the night before--or what would now be referenced in her mind as the most awkward three hours of her entire life, at least until this point--but she wasn't sure she wanted to partake in any of the bridal party's activities. She wasn't actually one of them, after all. Sure, there would be distant cousins and other family members hanging out, too, but at least they knew Monica. Bree had known her for all of a few hours and wasn't particularly fond of her.

Some of that was jealousy, of course. It wouldn't be easy to like anyone Trent was marrying. But then there were the rude comments Monica frequently made, the backhanded compliments, and the dirty looks Bree felt boring into the back of her head whenever she looked away from the bride-to-be. It almost made her wonder if Monica actually knew the song she'd selected for her wedding was about her groom.

Surely not. No one knew for sure, and there weren't even very many people who would suspect that was the case. Just some friends from high school. Like Nora, Christy, and Abby. Maybe Hank. Oh, and Trent. He'd probably figured that out the moment he heard the song--though he wouldn't be able to confirm it.

Looking at the schedule, Bree tried to decide whether or not she should attend the brunch and visit to the local nature preserve with the rest of the group or just do her own thing. Thoughts of hanging out on the beach, catching some sunrays, dipping her toes in the waves, and basically becoming a beach bum were much more inviting than fighting off Monica's glares.

She decided not to decide at the moment. She needed a shower and something to eat. Even if she was going to go to brunch at 11:00, her stomach was growling now. She'd hardly eaten anything the night before at the dinner because she'd felt so unwelcome and overwhelmed. But now, she was definitely in need of sustenance.

After her shower, she put on her bathing suit with a bright teal sundress over the top. Once her hair was dry and her makeup was perfect for a sunny day at the beach--with enough sunscreen underneath to last her a few hours--she decided to go to a restaurant within walking distance of the resort and get some breakfast. Taking her beach bag with her, just in case she decided not to come back to her room, she set out.

Already, kids were splashing in the waves. The sound of their laughter traveled through the morning air and brought a smile to Bree's face. As awful as her discovery of the night before had been, there was still a lot of good in this world, a lot of beauty, a lot of hope. She couldn't let losing Trent for good bring her down forever.

The quaint cafe was decorated with beachy, yet tasteful, decor. Bree took a booth by the window where she could lose herself in a romance novel over her eggs. It was better to leave love to other people, imaginary people, who might just have a chance.

"Still putting ketchup on your hash browns, I see."

The sound of Trent's voice was a familiar tune in her ear. It made her smile at first until she remembered there wasn't much to smile about. Still, she didn't want to be rude, so she kept the cheerful expression as she put her book down and turned to look at him. "What are you doing here?"

He was wearing a polo shirt and khaki shorts that showed off how muscular his tan legs were. Bree couldn't get that tan if she laid on the sun. He was always a shade or two darker than her, and she had been jealous when they were kids and impressed when they were older.

Shrugging, Trent said, "I was out for a walk and happened to see a friendly face in the window. I'm not bothering you am I?"

"No, not at all. Have a seat." Bree had propped her feet on the bench across from her but slid them off now, hoping she hadn't gotten any sand on the seat.

Trent slid in and folded his hands on the table, the look on his face letting her know he was trying to figure out what to say. "How have you been?" "Great," she said, meaning it, except for the last few hours. "Things have been really good."

"I'm so glad to hear it. I always knew you'd make it big someday."

He had been her biggest cheerleader in high school, but she had to be realistic. "I've still got a long way to go before I hit it big."

"Nah, you're almost there. It's so awesome seeing you on YouTube. I even heard one of your songs on the radio the last time I went to visit my folks."

That made her smile. She knew the local stations had been playing her songs for a while. "How are your parents? I didn't get a chance to talk to them last night." They'd been so surrounded by family from out of town, she hadn't bothered to try to squeeze her way in, though his dad had given her a hug before she left, and his mom had waved. She imagined this was odd for them, too.

"They're good." Something about his eyes let her know that wasn't quite true. "How are yours?"

"Hanging in there. Mom took it hard when Grandma passed away last year." They'd all taken that hard, but she was old and it was a wonder she'd lasted as long as she did with her health problems.

"I was so sorry to hear about that. She was a good woman."

"Thanks." Bree gave him a small smile and then an awkward silence settled in that was only broken when the waitress asked Trent if he wanted some coffee, which he declined.

"Bree, I'm really sorry you didn't know about this. For some reason, I was under the impression that you did."

"It's okay," she said, not meaning it but not blaming him either. She fought back the tears that sprang up again because crying now would make her look really stupid. "I'm happy for you. The two of you make a beautiful couple." She couldn't bring herself to say anything nice about Monica, though.

"Thank you." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't. She really wished the waitress would just bring the check.

"What time does your brunch start? Eleven?"

"Yeah, are you coming?"

"No, I think I'll hang out on the beach today. I appreciate the invitation and all, but...." She couldn't finish that sentence either.

"I understand. Monica takes everything to the extreme, the entire wedding included."

"Yeah, but you must be doing really well in your career to afford all of this. I mean... not that it's any of my business." She suddenly felt like a dunce, talking about money.

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"I actually got a little bit of an inheritance when my grandfather passed away a few years back and made a couple of investments that really paid off."

"That's amazing." He always had been good with finances.

"Yeah. Monica wants me to quit working altogether so we can move to New York for her modeling career, but she hasn't exactly convinced me of that yet."

His eyes were set when he spoke about the possibility of quitting, and she was tempted to pry again. She knew how much he loved working with numbers. "I'm sure the two of you will make a good decision, one that's best for both of you." What else could she possibly say?

He nodded, and the waitress dropped her check on the table.

Trent grabbed it before Bree could move. "Hey," she said, her eyes wide. "Uh... that's mine."

"I got it." He already had his wallet out.

"Aren't you paying for enough? My room and all that?"

With a smile, he shrugged and said, "I'm just glad you're here, Bree. It's great to see you."

The waitress came back and took the money, and Trent got up, clearly not expecting any change from the twenty he'd handed over. "I hope you'll do some of the activities Monica has on tap, just because it's nice to see you." She raised an eyebrow. It was nice to see him, too, but she was sure they weren't on the same page about that. He was marrying someone else, and she wanted to throw herself at him and confess her undying love. "I'm sure I will."

"See ya, Bree." He placed his hand on her shoulder, causing electric pulses to shoot throughout her body, and then he was gone, and she was left taking deep breaths wondering how in the world she was supposed to get over him when all he had to do was touch her, and she became a mound of pulsating flesh beneath his hand.