Meant to Marry Me

The sound of voices from the television met Bree's ear as she walked through the apartment door. She checked the time on her phone. It was only a little past 3:00. What was Trent doing home? She had to assume it was him watching the television because it sounded like the news channel, and if the housekeeper had turned it on, it would've been a soap opera or court show.

Hanging her purse by the door, and placing her keys where she could find them later, she went into the adjoining room to investigate. Trent was sitting on the couch with his laptop open on his lap, his stocking feet on the coffee table, typing away. She almost didn't want to disturb him.

At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up. "Oh, hi. Back already?" He set his open laptop on the couch and hopped up. Bree went to his open arms and melted into his embrace, lifting her face for a quick kiss before she replied. "Yeah, we got done with the tour a couple of hours ago and then got all of our equipment set up. We went over the song a couple of times to test out the acoustics and all of that." She let go of him, sitting down on the couch next to him. "Great. So everything went smoothly?" Trent didn't pick his laptop back up, but he didn't close it either.

Nodding, Bree said. "It did. Monica showed us around." She didn't want to mention that Monica was late, or why. "It was odd being around her, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be." "That's good. She was polite, at least, I hope?"

"She was." Monica was the last thing Bree wanted to talk about, but she wasn't sure what else to say. The theme of fire and ice was a topic she wanted to stay away from since she thought it might make Trent uneasy, the same way that it had her.

While she struggled with something else to say, a report came on the television that caught her attention. She immediately recognized the bottle of hairspray she'd seen on the counter where they were supposed to get ready for the show. The news announcer was talking about the new product. Bree grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and quickly turned it up. Trent asked, "What are they talking about?" but she didn't answer because she didn't want to miss the report. "Bright Salon hairspray is being touted as one of the best products for keeping users' hairstyles from moving, even in the wind with long wear, but is it safe? One woman says, 'No!'. Here is her story."

The video cut to a woman in her mid-to-late twenties with beautiful blonde hair on half of her head. The other side was covered with a bandage. Her name popped up on the screen, but Bree didn't pay attention to that, only that the woman said, "I was at a friend's house for a barbecue, and the next thing I know, my head was on fire. I guess I got too close to the flame. This stuff is highly flammable! There should be a warning!"

Bree felt her stomach twist into a knot. Was it a coincidence that the hairspray in their station was this same product that was being exposed as highly flammable when the show was themed fire and ice? She didn't think so. She also didn't think that it was a coincidence that she was on the fire side of the stage.

"Is everything okay?" Trent asked, clearly confused as to why Bree wanted to hear the news story.

Turning the volume back down, she said, "Oh, yeah. Everything's fine." She didn't want to tell him why she was concerned, not right now. She wanted to talk to Shawna about it. Worrying Trent at the moment seemed like a bad idea when there were other things she could do to prevent anyone from catching their head on fire at the show. The idea that Monica might be scheming to catch her on fire made Bree angry, especially since Monica was aware she had a history with flames, but if there was a way she could still play the show, get back at Monica, and not become a human torch, that sounded like the best option.

"Do you have ties to that hairspray I'm not aware of?" Trent asked the question as if it was a joke, but Bree could tell he was confused--maybe a little concerned.

"No, it's just one of the products some of the models had on their stations backstage, that's all. It's really nothing." She managed a smile. "I just thought it was weird that the first I had ever heard of it was earlier today, and now here it is on the news. I bet they'll pull it from the show since it's clearly dangerous."

His eyebrows were still arched. "I take it you'll get ready for the show here--like you always do?"

"Sure," Bree reassured him. She was just about to change the subject to something else entirely, starting with a kiss, when a new report came on that had her attention even more than the flammable hairspray.

"Accused attempted murderer Cat Hadley was back in court today...."

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Bree turned to look at the TV and felt Trent's hand come down on her back in a comforting motion. "Are you sure you want to--"

She cut him off with a finger. She normally didn't listen to the news, only waited for the lawyers to update her on what was happening, but the video of Cat, barely recognizable when compared to the woman she'd chosen to be in her band last year, with no makeup on, her eyes shadowed with dark circles, her hair stringy, standing there in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit, had Bree transfixed.

Trent stopped talking, but Bree could feel him, rigid beside her, not wanting her to hear whatever it was they were about to say. Had he heard already? She didn't care. She wanted to know. Again, she found herself reaching for the remote to turn the volume up.

"Hadley's attorneys claim that while she was involved in the attempted murder of musician Bree Matthews last year, she did not act alone. They refuse to take a plea deal until new evidence is reviewed by the district attorney. As of today, Cat is scheduled to go on trial for her charges next month. She has also been accused of attempting to burn down a hotel in St. Louis, Missouri, but those charges are pending, based on the outcome of the attempted murder trial, which will take place in Nashville, Tennessee."

The reporter, an older gentleman with white hair, turned to look at his colleague, a younger woman with red hair so perfectly styled, Bree had to wonder if she'd been using Bright Salon. "Thank you, Steve. We're all interested to hear the outcome of that shocking story. Now, in weather...."

Bree stared at the television for a moment, not hearing the weather forecaster as he came on to talk about the possibility of rain. Trent picked up the remote and shut the TV off. "Are you all right, Bree?"

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head to clear it. "I just... it's been a while since I had to think about any of that."

"I know." Trent rubbed her back reassuringly.

"If she goes to trial next month, I'll have to testify. It'll mess up our entire tour schedule."

"Hopefully, she won't go. Everyone knows she's guilty...."

"But if someone else was involved, like she's saying, then maybe she won't plead guilty, at least not until they investigate this evidence she wants them to look at." The idea of actually having to go to trial, of sitting up there on the stand and telling the judge, jury, and everyone else listening what had happened on both occasions, when the hotel had been lit on fire and when that woman dressed as a nurse had snuck into her hospital room and tried to kill her, made Bree revert back to the mental state she'd been in months ago, right after it had happened. She felt her hands beginning to shake and tucked them beneath her legs, hoping Trent wouldn't notice.

"Bree, calm down," he said, pulling her close to his chest. "I think she will plead guilty. She's just trying to buy some time." He kissed the top of her head, which did help her with the shaking, at least a little bit. "You're strong enough to face her again, Bree, if you have to. It will all work out, and in a few months, you won't ever have to think about Cat Hadley again."

She wanted to believe him, to think that it would all be over soon, but even with the TV off, when Bree closed her eyes, she saw the sunken, sad face of Cat Hadley and realized this was far from over.

Even when the trial was completed and Cat was handed her sentence, she would never really go away. There would be parole hearings, news stories on the anniversaries of the events, and everywhere she went, people would think of her as a singer second, and the girl who'd almost been murdered twice first. It wasn't fair, and she hated that she'd allowed someone so vicious into her life.

At the end of it all, it still didn't make sense to Bree. Why would Cat try so hard to kill her when they had been friends before? She realized some people were just innately evil, but Cat hadn't come across that way, not at first. Had Bree read her wrong, or was there really more to this story than Bree was aware of?

Nestled against Trent's chest, the scent of his cologne filling her lungs with every breath, she managed to put those thoughts aside. "Why are you home early?" she asked, just a whisper into his neck.

"I wanted to see you," he said in just as quiet a tone.

It brought a smile to her lips, and when his mouth came crashing down into hers, all of the worries from her day were washed away. Trent scooped her up into his arms, standing, and Bree wrapped her legs around his waist, deepening the kiss as he carried her off to bed. As long as they had each other, the rest of the world could come and go. When she was with Trent, nothing else mattered.