Meant to Marry Me

Trent found a quiet spot out on the boat deck. Like everything else, it had been Monica's idea to take an evening boat ride for dinner. The sunset was beautiful, and the water was calm and serene, but Trent didn't feel peace as he looked out at the horizon. He felt like a tempest was brewing under the surface, and he wasn't sure how to put his finger on exactly why he was feeling that way.

He wanted to ignore the tickle in the back of his brain that said it was Bree. He thought he'd moved on from her years ago, that he'd convinced himself that being with her was a dream he'd never achieve. But the more time he spent around her, the more he wondered if he'd sold himself short and not taken every opportunity he had to see where their relationship could go.

Monica was still in the dining room. He'd asked her to come out on the promenade with him, but she was afraid her hair would get messed up. Most of the rest of the bridal party was out on the deck, drinking and laughing. He was glad they were having fun, but his heart wasn't in it. Only Monica, Hannah, and Clarice weren't with them--and Bree. The bride and bridesmaids were sitting inside with a bottle of wine, allegedly talking to some of the other out of town guests, though if Trent had to hazard a guest, it was more like they were talking about themselves.

Where Bree was, he didn't know, until he heard her light footsteps come around the side of the boat. She kept her distance from him, propping her hands against the railing and said, "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"It is," he said, not coming over to her. "Are you having a good time?"

She shrugged, and he knew no matter what she said the answer was no. "I've had worse."

He chuckled, and regardless of whether or not Monica would forget about her hair and come flying out after him, he stepped over by Bree. "I'm sorry about the volleyball match. I'm not sure why... some people were taking it so seriously." "Some people are just more competitive than others."

"I've known you to be competitive during certain circumstances as well," he reminded her with a playful nudge in the arm.

"If you bring up that Monopoly game again, Trent Evan Walker, I swear to God...."

He laughed. "That's exactly what I was thinking about."

"That was ten years ago!" She threw her hands out in exasperation, but she was smiling, that gorgeous friendly smile that made him melt on the inside like ice cream on a slice of hot apple pie. "Besides, you cheated!"

"I didn't cheat!" he protested, hands up in front of him. "I'm just better at Monopoly than you are."

"Oh, whatever. You were the banker, and you were paying yourself under the table." She winked at him, and he had to look away. Why did she have to be so damn cute?

"God, I've missed you so much, Bree." It was an under his breath comment, but she'd heard it just the same.

"I've missed you, too." Bree glanced back through the window at the bride. Monica was still in the conversation, but one eye was on them. "How long ago did you get engaged?"

He hadn't been expecting that question, but part of him was glad she asked. "Well, it was kind of strange. We had discussed getting married, but I wasn't sure at the time that we were ready. We'd been dating for a year and a half or so, but I didn't know if we were going to be able to make what each of us wanted in the future work together."

"You mean because she wants to be a model?"

"A supermodel, yes, that's part of it. I would never try to talk her out of her dream, but I can't be moving all over the place and run a company at the same time. So... I wasn't sure about that. Or the fact that she doesn't want kids." Bree's eyes bulged. "She doesn't?"

Trent shook his head. It was even more of a sore point between himself and Monica than anything else. He couldn't imagine his life without children--someday, not right away, but someday. "I thought we'd keep talking about it, figure it out, you know? But then one day about a year ago, we were at the mall--she was taking back some shoes she decided she didn't like--and she pulled me into a jewelry store. The next thing I know, she's wearing a ring." Again, Bree looked stunned. "A ring you bought?"

"Yes," Trent admitted, even though he wasn't going to admit the ring had cost far more than he'd ever seen himself spending on any one piece of jewelry.

"And you never actually proposed?"

He shook his head, unable to say more.

"Wow!" Bree looked out at the ocean. "So what does she say when people ask how you proposed?"

Trent shrugged. "I'm not sure what she tells everyone, but I've heard her say on more than one occasion that it was during an 'intimate moment' so she can't elaborate." He rolled his eyes, not sure how Bree would respond to that. Would she be offended?

She burst out laughing. "Well, was it? Maybe you did ask her, and you just don't remember it."

"No, I think I'd remember that."

"Not if you were lost in the moment," Bree countered.

Trent shook his head, realizing his face was turning red. "No, I'd remember. I didn't. I never asked her. But... here we are."

"And you want to marry her?" Bree was completely serious now, and Trent realized there was more to that question than what it seemed on the surface. She wasn't just asking if he was okay with the way he'd ended up engaged to Monica. She was asking if he was sure that's what he really wanted to do, if he was certain he saw himself with Monica in the future--and no one else.

"I, uh...." He didn't get a chance to answer. Monica was tapping on the window, crooking a finger at him, that tight smile on her face that let him know he was in trouble without her having to say it or show everyone else she was pissed. "I have to go."

"All right. It was nice to talk to you."

He smiled at her and headed back to the dining area, sure he was about to get an earful from Monica. But then, that was nothing new.