Chapter 45: Dyed Decisions


    How many times had he listened to Bree y 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 ite to this. He nced


    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 aughing 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 momentster 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 mindpletely 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’te 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.


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    “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.