Chapter 50: Ocean of Tears


    The sun was still shining; the waves continued to roll across the shoreline, wetting the sand, and


    tumbling back out to sea. The seagulls danced and yed above her, and the blue sky was vivid and


    bright, refusing to hide itself in clouds.


    Bree sunk down in the sand, leaning back against the rocks she’d used as shelter many times that


    week--a week that had taken on a life of its own, stretching beyond five days into a millennium.


    But now, it was all over. So was thest decade of wishing, wanting, and waiting. He was actually going


    through with it. In fact, considering how long it had taken her to walk here from the chapel, he’d


    probably already done it. He was probably already married. The pastor would’ve said, “Ladies and


    gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Trent Walker.” There would’ve been apuse, and then the


    gorgeous couple would’ve gone to greet everyone, to relish in their congrattions. They’d be doing


    pictures now, soon to be headed to the reception where they’d cut the cake. Bree had no doubt Monica


    would do something to embarrass Trent--like smear it all over his face. Yeah, he was a married man


    now, married to that woman who didn’t appreciate him. And here she was, sitting in the sand broken


    and miserable.


    Her thoughts flickered to Hank for a moment. How his heart must also be breaking as he watched them


    kiss for the first time as man and wife. He’d likely stick around for the whole reception since that’s what


    the best man was supposed to do. People would probably be whispering about Bree at the reception,


    asking what was the matter with her, why she’d left, what kind of a professional musician just left a


    wedding like that? But she couldn’t care at the moment.


    Her phone would likely ring soon. It would be Hank or Christy or Abby, wanting to know if she was all


    right. Telling her how sorry they were for her, that it would be okay, that she could do better, that Trent


    was getting what wasing to him for choosing Monica over her. She’d thank them, hang up, and


    keep sitting there until she finally had the strength to go to her room, gather her belongings and head to


    the airport, looking for an alternate flight on the way.


    Yes, that’s how it would all y out. She should’ve seen it unfolding from the moment she realized it


    was Trent who was getting married. Why she’d ever thought she was strong enough to do this, she had


    no idea. How she’d ever convinced herself that Trent would choose her over Monica, or even that he


    would be so angry at her for cheating on him that he’d tell her off and walk away, she couldn’t say, but it


    was all over now--all of it but the crying.


    Despite her best attempts not to cry, to tell herself she’d done enough of that for him over the years, the


    tears wereing. She let them fall. It wasn’t an ugly, desperate, exhausting cry, just a gentle rain. It


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    would take longer this way to let the emotions out, but it was better than that soul purging cry that


    would leave her aching and shuddering for hours. Bree tipped her head back, stared up at the birds,


    listened to the ocean, and cried.