Meant to Marry Me

A nurse came out of the hospital room first, but Trent could tell she didn't have anything to say that would make him feel better about the situation. She simply took him by the shoulders and walked him a little bit away from the door. "They're moving her to the OR," the nurse said. "The doctors are still working on her, but they're afraid they may have to open her up in order to see what damage is being done to her heart."

Trent felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair and tried to keep himself under control. "Open her up? Oh, God! Why?" he asked as the doors came flying open and they carted Bree off down the hall, the doctors shouting to each other as they moved her, along with a bunch of equipment Bree was hooked up to.

The nurse followed them with her eyes for a moment before she said, "We think someone came into her room and drugged her. We're not sure, but that's what we assume must have happened. We don't know what she might've been given, but once we figure that out, it will make it easier to treat her."

Trent nodded, letting her know he'd understood what she'd said, even if he still couldn't comprehend it. "If they catch the person who did this, maybe she can tell them what she did. Or maybe she'll still have evidence one her person." "That is certainly a possibility," the nurse said, her expression conveying that she might not be as hopeful as Trent was. "It appears as if her condition is stabilizing at the moment, but she isn't out of the woods yet. If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you to the waiting area near the OR."

"Okay," Trent said, his feet moving even though he was still too shocked to truly think about where he was going. A few moments ago, he was reassuring her parents that Bree was fine and would go home tomorrow. Now, she was headed to the operating room in case they needed to cut her chest open and operate on her heart. How did this happen?

They walked past the doors that said OR. Trent was thankful he couldn't hear the doctors shouting to one another anymore, though part of him did want to know what was going on in there. For a second, his mind slipped to a dark place, and

he imagined what it would be like for Dr. Rook to come and tell him Bree hadn't made it. He had to push those thoughts aside. The idea of losing her was something he just couldn't fathom.

"Here's the waiting room," the nurse said, gesturing to a place with five or six chairs near a window at the end of the hall. "If you'll have a seat, we'll let you know what's happening as soon as we have an update."

"Thank you," Trent said, but he couldn't sit down. The nurse hurried off toward the operating room, and Trent let his eyes focus out the window.

What he saw was almost as stunning as the scene he'd seen unfolding in the hospital room when the doctors had first come in.

The police were interrogating a woman dressed in a nurses costume at the end of the parking lot. There was a car sitting there, a man inside. He looked flabbergasted, like he had no idea he was helping a would-be murderer escape the scene of the crime. Even though she was wearing a wig, and despite the distance, Trent was certain he knew who he was looking at. It was definitely Cat.

"Tell them what you did, Cat!" he said, grinding his teeth together in a silent prayer that she would cooperate. "Tell them what you did!" They needed to know what that bitch had put in Bree's IV.

Trent's phone vibrated in his pocket making him realize he'd have to call Bree's parents back. Should he do that now, or wait for an update? The nurse had sounded hopeful, but if something should happen to her... something irreversible... didn't he owe it to them to tell them in time for them to get there? Would they even have a chance to get there in time?

His eyes stayed glued to the scene outside as Cat was cuffed and slid into the backseat of a patrol car. An officer or a security guard of some sort was headed back toward the building at a fast pace. Trent hoped he was hurrying because he knew what the chemical was that Cat had given to Bree. Maybe Cat had finally done the right thing and tried to undo this. Even if it was just to save her own butt from murder charges, he didn't care. He just wanted the doctors to have all of the information they needed in order to fix Bree.

The police car drove away, and after a quick discussion with one of the officers, the man in what he could only assume was Cat's rideshare car drove off, too. The scene in the parking lot dissipated, and Trent had no reason to keep standing there.

He sunk into a chair, his head in his hands. This day had started off unbelievable, and it just kept getting worse. It was time for some good news. Bree had to be okay--she just had to be.