Meant to Marry Me

Chapter 42: Show Must Go On

Bree kept expecting to get a phone call from someone letting her know that the wedding was off. Either

Lilly--or Hank--or if things were really heading the right direction--Trent himself. But the closer it got to

the time she was supposed to leave for the rehearsal dinner, the more she began to realize nothing

had changed.

She’d done everything she could. She’d gone to Trent, proof in hand, showed it to him, poured her

heart out, and it hadn’t been enough.

Perhaps she’d been wrong all along, and this entire time, the relationship she was dreaming about was

all one sided.

With a loud sigh, Bree ran her hands through her hair. It all made sense. The reason Trent hadn’t

called her after the kiss outside of the cabin wasn’t because he didn’t have her number or whatever

bullshit she’d been telling herself. It wasn’t because they were at different colleges or because he was

afraid he’d ruin their friendship. It was because he didn’t feel the same way about her as she did about

him, but he didn’t want to tell her that and break her heart.

Tears threatened to run down her cheeks, but Bree held them off. She’d already spent so many tears

on him. The idea of wasting more was just too much. He didn’t deserve it. And to think, this whole time,

she’d been under the impression those little glances or subtle touches had meant something.

She’d been holding his hand at the beach, for crying out loud!

It would’ve been so easy to just pack up her things and walk out the door, but she wasn’t going to do

that either. No, she’d come here to do a job, and now that she knew the truth, that Trent didn’t have

feelings for her at all, she had to stay. She had to show him that he didn’t mean as much to her as he

thought either. She’d stand up there and play the guitar, sing the song she’d written for him, and look

him in the face, letting him know it didn’t mean anything to her either.

The fact that it meant more to her than she could articulate was beside the point.

Bree finished getting ready to go to the rehearsal. She was wearing a long dress with peekaboo

sleeves and ruffles around the top in a light green that she knew looked great on her. No, she wasn’t a

statuesque goddess like Monique, but she was pretty. And she would have no qualms about flirting with

Dwayne or anyone else now that she knew the truth about Trent--that he had never really had feelings

for her at all.

When it was time to go, she took several deep breaths and repeated to herself that she could do this,

that she could do hard things, and this was just like anything else. Uncomfortable, sure, but doable.

She picked up her guitar case and headed to the chapel, praying she was right and she’d get through

the rehearsal and the dinner to follow without creating a scene. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

On uneasy legs, she made her way down the path. The call of the seagulls, the crash of the waves,

children playing in the surf--all of those sounds urged her to run to the beach, to escape. Yet, she kept

walking, knowing she had to face him now or else she’d spend the rest of her life wishing she’d been

strong enough to do so.

A lot of the wedding party was already in the chapel when she got there. The place was decorated with

tropical flowers in turquoise and coral colors. A white runner went up the center to the stage where

there were more flowers, some seashell decor, and the unity candle set up off to the side. There was

also a piano, and in front of it, a stool with a mic for her to sing into and one set up for her guitar. That’s

where she’d watch Trent marry Monica.

As she walked in, the two of them were sitting next to each other on the front row of the pews,

whispering quietly. She looked emotional--sad, maybe? He looked irritated. For a moment, Bree

thought perhaps she’d jumped to conclusions, and he just hadn’t gotten everything settled between

them yet. Was it possible he was still in the process of deciding what to do?

No, it didn’t matter. If he really had feelings for her, there was no way he’d be contemplating marrying

Monica. He would’ve went and told her where she could go and then ran to her hotel room--wouldn’t

he?

“Oh, good. You’re here.” Lilly’s smile was tight as she approached down the aisle. “You can put your

guitar up there.”

“What’s the matter?” Bree asked, hoping Lilly was okay. It wasn’t like her friend to have such a worried

look on her face unless Monica was yelling at her about something.

She glanced over her shoulder at the “happy” couple and then looked at Bree. “Nothing.” She sighed

and forced a smile. “Everything’s fine. We’re just waiting on Hank.”

“Oh. Where is he?”

“No one knows.” Lilly blew out a hot breath before she added, “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Bree nodded and carried her guitar to the front, careful not to look at Trent or Monica. If either of them

wanted to acknowledge her presence, they’d have to yell at her to get her attention. She was on a

mission.

As soon as she set her guitar down, she turned around, still careful not to look at them. Since neither of

them said a word to her, she walked to the back of the chapel and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Where was Hank? Was he okay? She prayed he’d answer because she was worried about him. He

clearly wasn’t handling this situation well, and she thought if anyone else was likely to make a run for

the airport, it was him.