Meant to Marry Me

The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom. No one said a word for what seemed like the longest few seconds Bree could ever remember. Then, the people around her came back to life, and she found air in her lungs again. "Are you okay?" Trent asked. He was always asking her that, checking on her, making sure she was all right. Bree nodded. She was all right. She was going to continue to be all right, too. It seemed like a nightmare that had lasted almost two years was finally over.

Lots of people offered their quiet congratulations, despite the sound of Monica's mother crying in the front of the courtroom as they took her daughter away for a long prison term. The judge had given her twenty years for attempted murder. Bree believed that was enough. By the time Monica got out, even if she only served the minimum, she would no longer be able to model. Her life was ruined, all because she hadn't been willing to let Trent go.

And it wasn't even because she loved him so much she couldn't imagine her life without him. During her testimony, she'd admitted she just wanted Bree to suffer, wanted her to pay for taking her man away. What she'd failed to realize then and now was that Trent had never been Monica's man. He'd always been meant to be with Bree.

They walked out of the courtroom, already seeing the mass of reporters on the other side of the glass door. Bree sucked in a deep breath and held it. She should have been used to cameras flashing by now. In the nearly two years since Monica's arrest and the end of the trial, she'd been busy touring, playing huge venues, even nationally syndicated talk shows and late night entertainment programs. She'd had three number one songs, and her latest album had gone platinum. Her Nashville country dreams had all come true.

In just a few weeks, her lifelong dream would come true, too. Now that the trial was over, she would finally be marrying the man of her dreams. They'd decided to wait until the drama had passed because Bree thought she would never be able to enjoy her wedding without knowing what would happen with Monica and Cat, who was also serving a long prison term for her role in the hotel fire and subsequent attempted murder on Bree. With all of that behind them, they'd be moving forward with the wedding, and Bree couldn't wait to start her new life as Trent's wife. This was how it was meant to be.

"Congratulations," Celia whispered in her ear. Bree turned and gave her a quick hug. She and Trent's right-hand-gal had become so close since Celia had started dating Hank. They'd met in the aftermath of the incident at the runway show and had been practically inseparable ever since. Bree hadn't even known Hank and Christy were there until she'd run into them backstage, coming to see if she was okay. Celia had been there, too, by then, checking on her and Trent. It had been love at first sight.

"Thank you," Bree said, releasing her and giving Hank a tight squeeze before she returned her attention to Trent. Everything between him and Hank was patched up now. It became apparent that Monica had messed with Trent's best friend's head over the years and influenced him to do some crazy things, but Hank was set straight now, and the two had never been closer.

Trent held Bree's hand as she headed down the courthouse steps, the reporters shouting questions at her, trying to get her to stop and speak to them. She'd leave that to her own attorneys, though. Right now, all she wanted was to get home, to her large house in a gated community, and have some peace and quiet before the hustle and bustle of wedding activities began, and she'd be in a frenzy again.

Unlike Monica, she did not have an activity planned for every single day the week before the wedding. They would get married right here in Nashville at a local church, with only close friends and family attending. Then, she and Trent would go away for their first real vacation together, to a tiny private island she'd rented in the Philippines. There, the world would be put on hold as she and Trent focused on each other, and only each other.

He opened the door to the SUV that was waiting for them, and she slid into the back seat, smiling at him. He raised an eyebrow, as if to say he had no idea why she was grinning at him, but he didn't ask, only closed the door and came around to get in beside her.

Once they were inside, the driver took off, and Trent reached for her hand. "Finally," he said, "we can put all of that behind us."

Bree nodded, but the scars on her hand would always serve as a reminder of what had happened. She looked over at him and smiled. It was all worth it, though, because she had him.

"You seem awfully happy," he said, a crooked grin on his face. "I can't blame you. It is nice to have some closure."

"Yes, it is," she noted with a nod. "But it's also nice to know we can move on with our lives now. And I am ready to marry you--finally."NôvelDrama.Org © content.

His smile brightened. "Finally? It's only been... thirteen years since I realized I wanted you to be my wife."

Bree thought back to how she'd felt about Trent since they first became friends, in elementary school. At what point had she realized she wanted to marry him? She couldn't even say for sure, but she knew it had been a long, long time ago. Even when she'd been dating Jason, Sam, or any of the other guys she'd gone out with other than him, she'd always known in her heart that she loved Trent. Now, nothing would ever tear them apart.

The SUV went through the gate to their community and around a bend full of large, old trees. Their house came into view, up on a hill with acres of rolling, green hills around it. The large white structure wasn't as old as its style indicated. It looked like a plantation home out of Gone with the Wind. Bree had fallen in love with the house the moment she'd seen it and moved in almost immediately. They'd named it Walker Hills and planned to fill it with lots of tiny Walkers as soon as possible.

The vehicle came to a stop, and Trent got out to escort her inside, like he always did. Bree took his arm and let him lead her home, knowing he was the reason she was able to make it through all of the hardships in her life. They were certainly meant to be, and nothing would ever change that.

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Epilogue

Two weeks later....

Bree sat on the beach, a drink in one hand, Trent's fingers interlaced with her other where it lay in the sand. The ocean waves rolled in, wetting the sand near their toes, the sun baking down on their tan skin as it dried from their first dip in the ocean. There would be plenty more.

"This.. is heaven," Trent said with a smile, gazing up at the sky through his dark sunglasses.

"You're heaven," Bree said, knowing it sounded sappy and not even caring.

He turned and grinned at her before leaning over and kissing her lips. He tasted like the cold drinks they'd been sipping on all day, and she couldn't get enough of him.

The wedding had gone off smoothly, despite Bree's tendency to worry over everything. It had been a simple ceremony with only about fifty people in attendance. Shawna and Zach, who'd been married for almost a year, performed, "Meant to Marry Me." Bree had wept like a little girl, and Trent had had a tear or two in his eyes as well. Hank had done a much better job the second time around as best man and atoned himself for his initial shortcomings.

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After a reception that had lasted longer than the wedding itself by hours, they'd hopped on a plane, and now, here they were in paradise. The only other people on the island were the six caretakers who prepared their food, kept the house tidy, and filled their drinks. It was paradise, and Bree could've stayed there forever if she didn't already miss her music. Something told her two weeks would pass by awfully quickly, but since she had an international tour scheduled for her return, she'd be just fine.

"Want to take another dip in the ocean?" Trent asked.

Bree was under the impression that meant he was ready for another round of something else, too. He hadn't been able to keep his hands off of her when they were in the warm, turquoise water the first time, and she wouldn't encourage him to keep them off of her this time either. Taking another sip of her drink she set it aside and said, "Race you!"

Giggling, they ran toward the waves, arms tangled. Once they were shoulder high in the water, Bree wrapped her legs around Trent's waist and pressed her lips to his, inviting him in in every way possible. He was hers, after all, and he would be forever.

Trent kissed her, slowly and deeply, holding her close. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Bree."

"I love you, too." She found his lips again, thankful that they'd made it through the fire, and nothing would ever tear them apart.

THE END