Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Hank looked awful. When he walked through the door, Bree felt horrible for being the one to make him look that way. Technically, it was his own fault. He was the one who’d slept with his best friend’s woman. But Bree was the one who’d told Trent about it.

It had taken her several minutes to convince him to come to the rehearsal. He’d said he couldn’t face Trent, not at the moment. But Bree had finally talked him into it, reminding him, if she could do it, so could he.

She saw the exchange between the two of them, the small wave and the relaxation in Hank’s shoulders as he realized Trent wasn’t about to murder him in front of everyone. She walked over to Hank and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly into his ear. “I thought it was best for all of us.”

“I’m not mad at you,” he said. “I’m mad at myself. I never should’ve let this happen.”

“What’s done is done. All we can do now is try to fix it the best we can.” She managed a smile, even though she could feel tears creeping into her eyes again.

He nodded but then quietly asked, “It wasn’t enough?”

Bree had to turn away. “Apparently not.”

Hank let out a hot breath and then headed toward the front of the church to meet Trent, Monica, and the pastor. Bree wouldn’t have anything to do for a while, so she sat in a pew and studied the group. Monica had to feel awkward, didn’t she? Standing there with her husband to be and the best man, knowing that she’d been with both of them recently--and that they knew it, too. As far as that was concerned, Monica didn’t even know who was aware of her infidelity and who wasn’t.

It didn’t seem to have fazed her, though. When the pastor called for the rest of the wedding party to come forward so they could start the rehearsal, Monica was smiling and joking around with her friends as usual. At least she wasn’t glaring at Bree for the moment.

Trent looked uneasy, but not like someone who was about to say something to stop what was happening. Bree tried not to look at him at all. It made her angry to think he thought so little of himself that he was willing to put up with her behavior. Didn’t he know there were women out there who would cherish a guy like him? Hell, there were women in here! But if he didn’t want Bree, the least he could do was tell Monica off and start all over again. No one deserved to be treated the way she’d treated him.

“All right… now is the time for the musician.” The pastor looked around the room, and Bree stood up and walked forward, avoiding everyone else’s eyes, save the older gentleman.

“That’s me,” she said.

“Very good. We’ll have you sit on the end of the second row. Are you a guest of the bride or the groom?”

“Mine,” Monica said quickly. “I hired her to sing.”

“I see,” the pastor said.

“Actually, Bree has been a friend of mine since we were in elementary school,” Trent said. “I’d prefer it if she was on my side.”

She couldn’t help but look at him, and it was obvious he wasn’t just talking about where she’d sit.

“Whatever,” Monica said with a shrug. It was also clear she’d spoken so quickly because she was trying her best to ignore the fact that Bree and Trent had ties of any sort.

The pastor looked from the groom to the bride, a little bit of uncomfortable tension in his eyes. “Very well, Miss, uh….”

“Matthews,” Bree offered.

“If you’ll sit here,” he gestured to the second row behind Trent, “after the last prayer I just said, you’ll come up and sing. I see you brought your guitar. Shall we go through the song?”

“Can she play something else?” Monica asked as Bree approached the stage.

“What do you mean?” Trent asked, his forehead showing the same consternation Bree was feeling.

“I just don’t want to ruin the song for tomorrow, that’s all,” Monica said, her voice uneasy. “Anything else.”

“Sure,” Bree said, getting her guitar out. She sat on the bench and tried to decide, a million songs coming to mind. But she chose one she’d always loved to sing and played, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

By the time she was done, most of the people in the room had tears in their eyes. But Bree didn’t. As much as she wanted to cry at the sentiment of the song, she wasn’t about to let Monica see her cry now.

The bride, on the other hand, was bawling like a baby. She figured that had more to do with how guilty she was feeling than Bree’s performance. Trent was stone faced, not looking at anyone.

Bree put the guitar back in its case and moved back to the pew, taking the seat the pastor had recommended for her. Her part was done. She could tune out now. She especially didn’t want to see them kiss. Monica didn’t deserve to kiss Trent ever again after what she’d done, and just the thought of her doing so made Bree feel nauseated.

How many times had he listened to Bree play that song over the years? More times than Trent could count. This performance had to be the most beautiful of all, and it had taken everything he had within him to keep from letting the tears stinging the back of his eyes make their way through the stone facade he’d built around himself.

What was he doing? How could he stand there and pretend like marrying Monica was a good idea? It was all wrong--all a sham. But walking away would be difficult, too. They had so much time invested in each other… He was in a horrible position, and he wished he’d never let it come to this. He glanced down at her finger, at that ring, the one she’d picked out herself, the one he’d never even used to propose to her. How had it gotten on her finger?

He went through the motions and finished the rehearsal, but when it got to the end, and the pastor said he could kiss the bride, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He just stared at Monica. How many times had he kissed her? At least a million, surely. But now… he couldn’t imagine pressing his lips to hers.

Monica could read his expression. Ever one to save face, she said, “We can’t kiss now! It’ll jinx it for tomorrow.”

That got a giggle out of everyone, except for Trent. He wasn’t in a laughing mood. He was grateful he wasn’t going to have to kiss her in front of everyone, though. Even offering his arm to her was hard. Monica looped hers through his, and he led her to the back of the church.

The pastor met them there a few moments later and went over where the receiving line would be, where they’d go next. The photographer came over and spoke to them about how to handle the pictures, where to wait for the announcement of the happy couple at the reception, all a blur of information Trent didn’t process. He hoped Monica had been paying attention--if it even happened. Was he going to go through with this?

He needed to get out of the room, to go out on the beach, get some fresh air, figure things out. But the pastor wanted to go through the ceremony again, and Monica was agreeing. Trent’s head was swimming. Passing out in front of everyone wasn’t really an option either.

Like a statue, Trent turned and walked back through the motions, his mind completely somewhere else. Thankfully, they skipped Bree’s part altogether. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle looking at her now.

The second time through went much quicker. Trent was thankful for that. As hard as it would be to sit in front of all of these people, and even more who hadn’t come to the rehearsal but would be at the dinner, and pretend like everything was okay between him and Monica, it would be better than standing up here and pretending to walk through a ceremony he knew he shouldn’t go through with but hadn’t found the courage to call off yet.

As they walked outside to make their way next door to the rehearsal dinner, Monica tugged on his arm. “Are we okay?” she asked, a pleading expression in her eyes.

Trent wanted to say yes because that’s what she wanted to hear. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Monica swallowed hard, and there were tears in her eyes, but she kept walking, and Trent went with her because that’s what they were supposed to do.