Meant to Marry Me

Before Bree even opened her eyes, a tightening in her stomach reminded her that this was the day she'd been dreading for days--maybe longer than that if she was honest with herself. She'd been dreaming of marrying Trent for a decade, hadn't she? Now, he was getting married. But not to her.

He'd tried to call her the night before. She'd seen a missed call on her phone. And at one point, she thought she'd heard a soft knock on the door. She'd been in the bathtub and hadn't been sure. When she made it to the door, no one was there, so either she'd imagined it, or he hadn't been too serious about coming to see her.

It was just as well. He likely just wanted to apologize to her, sort of like he had in the restaurant earlier in the week. At the time, she'd felt as if they'd bonded a bit, like they were getting their friendship back. Now, she realized that had all been a part of the same delusion that had made her think that showing him evidence that his fiancée was sleeping with another man would make him call off his wedding.

She got up and went through the motions she always did. The wedding started at 2:00. While she'd been invited to come to the salon to get ready with the bride and the rest of the bridal party, she'd declined via a quick text to Lilly. If she never saw Monica again, that would be too soon, and since she'd have to see her at the wedding, Bree had sworn off going anywhere that might bring her into contact with the bride.

Instead, she decided to spend some time on the beach. Since she didn't want to see anyone--including Trent and Hank--she went for a long walk away from the resort and found a spot where she was fairly certain no one would come looking for her. It wasn't as beautiful as the spot where she'd found solace earlier in the week, closer to the resort, but it was lovely, and she pulled out her notebook and wrote down the words to a song.

The ocean was a great inspiration. Before she knew it, she'd penned three songs, all about love and life--about feelings washing away with the tide, about love sifting through one's fingers like sand, about chasing each other through the sky like birds only to fall from grace.... She was happy with her work but knew she'd never sing any of these songs without thinking of Trent. She'd have to get used to it. So many of her songs had been inspired by him in one way or another. Her phone rang around noon, just as she was thinking she should probably head back so she could get cleaned up, dressed, and go to the chapel. It was Trent. She turned it off. He left her a voicemail, but she didn't bother to listen to it. The last thing she wanted to hear was him making excuses about why he couldn't break up with Monica. In a matter of hours, it wouldn't make any difference anyway.

She headed back to her room, humming one of the new songs she'd written as she went. She'd have to put herself into performance mode to get through the song at the wedding, but that was okay. Bree was a pro--she could do it. Then, she'd be done, and she could leave--and forget about Trent forever.

***

Trent glanced down at his phone and uttered a swear word. He really wanted to talk to Bree before the wedding. He needed to tell her how he felt. But then... what difference did it make? It wouldn't change anything. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

After he'd left Bree's room the night before, he'd ran into Monica and the two of them had spoken. She'd been crying when he found her on the walkway near the beach, and she'd sobbed for hours, begging him to give her another chance, promising it was just one little indiscretion that had happened so long ago.

So... he'd decided to give her another chance. It wasn't the easy thing to do, even though it might seem like it to someone watching from afar. It was damn hard to think he was giving up Bree forever because he'd already missed his chance with her, already committed to someone else. If he'd realized before he and Monica got this far that Bree was still out there waiting for him, he never would've gotten here.

But here he was. And he couldn't give up on the promise he'd made to Monica, on the life they'd established, over one awful mistake made over a year ago. No, he had to trust her, and he had to get up there in front of all of those people who'd come to see him pledge himself to her and do it. And he had to believe that he could trust her when she said the same thing.

Trent pulled up one of the pictures he'd stolen from Bree and looked at it. It was one where he could see Monica and Hank kissing but nothing lower than their necks, thank God. But there was something off about the picture, something that made him feel unsettled that had nothing to do with the fact that his best friend was kissing his fiancée.

He looked at it carefully. Monica had her hand up by her face, the other draped around Hank and he had his eyes open enough that he was looking at her. It was clear that he was enamored with her. Trent had seen it before in person more than once but pretended even to himself that he didn't notice. Hank really loved her, and if Monica wasn't so full of herself, maybe they could've been together.

But she said she'd never marry a guy like Hank, never even seriously date him. So Trent hadn't given it a second thought. Maybe he should have, but now it was too late.

He was going to the chapel, and he was going to get married. To Monica. Like he was supposed to. And he'd probably never see Bree Matthews again, unless it was on TV. He'd always love her, but sometimes love just wasn't enough.