Meant to Marry Me

The strings felt odd in her hand. The familiar feel of them, like an extension of herself as her fingers glided along them, was gone, replaced with numbness, a constant dull ache, and the occasional sharp pain that radiated from a few inches below her elbow all the way to the tips of her fingers. Determined to get her fingers in the right position to play a C chord, one of the easiest, Bree Matthews gritted her teeth and tried again. This time, her first finger screamed at her while her second finger may as well have been detached from her body. It just wasn't working.

Frustrated, Bree let out a sigh and set her guitar down on the floor next to her, its neck resting against her leg. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to slam the guitar against the coffee table as if she were a rock star in a hotel room. Why had this happened to her?

It had been two months since the hotel fire that had burned her hand, the subsequent surgery that had caused further nerve damage, and the attempt to take her life from one of her former bandmates. Since then, she'd been spending a lot of time at home resting, along with attending physical therapy sessions for her hand three times a week. All of the concerts on her band's tour had been rescheduled, so she wouldn't be back on stage for quite some time. While she no longer played guitar while performing, she still longed to be able to play again. For years, it had just been her and her guitar beneath the stage lights, the instrument and her voice blending together to make the beautiful music that had eventually led to a huge contract signing, a new band, and all of her dreams coming true.

But this was the stuff of nightmares.

The woman who had done all of this to her, Cat Hadley, was still in jail because the judge had set her bond so high, she couldn't afford to get out. The district attorney called Bree fairly often with updates on where they were with the trial. George Ross was a competent attorney, and he was confident they had enough evidence against Cat to put her away for a very long time, not only for Bree's attempted murder but also for purposely catching a hotel building on fire. Cat faced multiple charges of attempted murder, one for each of the people who had been staying in the hotel the night she'd purposely started a fire outside of Bree's door. If it hadn't been for Bree's fiancé, Trent Walker, and her lead guitarist, Zach Scott, Bree might've died before the firefighters were able to reach her.

Running her good hand through her strawberry blonde hair, Bree leaned back on the couch and stared at the blank TV screen. Frustration was starting to get the better of her, and she didn't like it. Trent had been great through all of this. For the first month, he'd stayed with her almost nonstop, even when she insisted he should go to work. He said he was confident in the abilities of his staff to do what needed to be done, even though his new accounting firm was in its infancy. Lately, though, when Bree had told him he should go into the office, that she was fine, he had believed her and gone in. While she was glad he was able to get some work done, sitting at home alone most of the day gave her plenty of time to think, and thinking was dangerous at the moment.

Bree looked down at the scars on her hand. She had a special cream she rubbed into the crinkled skin three times a day, and her doctor was confident most of the scaring would fade with time, but the limb seemed like a foreign object to her, like someone had removed the lower part of her arm and replaced with a robotic apparatus that only functioned part of the time and often hurt like hell.

The urge to turn the TV on and lose herself in some silly show was overwhelming. She didn't have therapy that afternoon, and she'd already done all of her vocal practices for the day. Keeping herself busy and her mind off of the trial and the state of her hand seemed like a full-time job, but not one she would've ever signed up for. Just when her career seemed to be taking off, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

Not everything. Bree looked down at the sparkly diamond ring on her hand. Originally, Trent had slipped it on her right hand, but since the swelling had gone down and her hand was beginning to heal, at least on the outside, she was able to wear her engagement ring on her left hand. She was so thankful that she and Trent had finally gotten together before everything fell apart because she didn't think she would've been able to make it through all of this without him. Just when she was thinking she might call him and see how he was doing, her phone rang. Scooping it up off of the couch by her knee, she checked to see who it was, thinking it might be Trent. Could he read her mind?

It wasn't him, though. Bree's eyes widened when she read her former college roommate's name on her phone, Lilly Edge. Her forehead wrinkled as she wondered what in the world Lilly might be calling about. They hadn't spoken to each other since the wedding--when Lilly's sister, Monica, was supposed to marry Trent, and Bree had told Trent she loved him, causing him to call it off. Lilly had contacted her through a social media messaging app to tell her she was sorry about Bree's hand and everything else that had happened to her, and Bree had been polite when she'd responded, but the situation was awkward. She still liked Lilly, but she could only imagine Monica wouldn't want her sister to have anything to do with the woman who'd broken up her wedding. In fairness, Monica's cheating on Trent with their mutual friend, Hank, might've had something to do with that.

Thinking it must be something important, Bree answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Bree. How are you?"

Bree thought back to their friendship and how chipper Lilly almost always sounded whenever they spoke to one another. Her voice sounded anything but that now. "I'm okay," Bree said, not wanting to go into all of her problems. "How are you?"

"Not so bad," she said, though that didn't seem to be the case judging by her tone. "Spending a lot of time at work."

Lilly worked in the main offices of a major retailer in the human resources department. Bree wasn't exactly sure what she did, but she knew she had graduated with a degree in business. Not sure what to say, she asked, "Is everything going well there?"

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"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just busy. How's your hand? Are you feeling better?"

Bree could hear the hesitation in her friend's voice, as if she wasn't sure whether or not she should ask the question. "It's getting better, thanks," she said, not wanting to go into all of the details. "It'll take some time to heal."

"I'm sure you'll be playing the guitar just like you used to in no time." Lilly's voice sounded a little more enthusiastic as she tried to brighten Bree's spirits.

It didn't work, but she appreciated the effort. "Thank you. I sure hope so." She hoped Lilly would just tell her why she'd phoned and cut the chit-chat because she knew the call wasn't to ask about her hand.

“Listen, Bree, I wanted to give you a head's up about something. I heard that you and Trent are engaged. That's great. I'm really happy for you. But my sister.... Well, she's not so happy. She's been a piece of work ever since the wedding was called off. Anyway, she recently signed with a different modeling agency. Have you heard of Ursula LaMode?"

"No, I don't think I have." Bree didn't know much about the modeling industry.

"It's an up and coming agency, specializing in natural and organic products."

"Okay...." Bree wondered what Lilly was getting at. She certainly wasn't going to wish Monica good luck with her new endeavor.

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"And... they're headquartered in Nashville."

Bree's mouth dropped open for a moment as she finally realized why Lilly had called her. "Monica is moving here?"

"Yes. In fact, she already has. She's been working there for a few weeks and already has an apartment. I just wanted to tell you. I know Nashville is a huge city, and theoretically, there's no reason to think that you and Trent will ever run into her. But this is Monica we're talking about, and if she can find a way to disrupt your lives, to get back at you, she will. She's been fuming for months now, plotting her revenge. With everything else you've been through, I know you don't need this, too. Hopefully, she'll get so busy with work she'll just let it go. But just in case...."

Bree wasn't sure what to say. The last thing she needed was Monica butting her way back into their lives. She couldn't possibly think she could get Trent back, could she? Even if that wasn't her angle, though, Bree would have to be careful. She'd had enough of unstable people recently. "Well, thanks for letting me know, Lilly," she said. "I'll tell Trent. It would be great if she just leaves us alone, but it's good to be warned that there's a possibility she might show up." "Right," Lilly said, sounding slightly calmer, as if she was glad to have gotten that weight off of her shoulders. "Okay, well I need to go. I just wanted to tell you. Just in case."

"I appreciate it. Bye, Lilly."

The other girl said goodbye, and then Bree hung up her phone, taking a deep breath, her eyes refocusing on that blank TV. With all the other crazy things happening in her life, the last thing she needed was to have to deal with Monica again. But at least she knew. She couldn't imagine how startling it would be to run into her on the street, at the store, or in a restaurant. No, Bree was definitely better off knowing the threat was out there than stumbling around in the dark. She wanted to call Trent to tell him, but it didn't seem like the sort of news she should give him while he was trying to work. Instead, she decided to tell him later, when he got home.

Lilly's comments came back to her, and Bree eyed the guitar. Everyone else seemed so confident she'd be able to get her hand to work again. Bree wasn't so sure--but she wasn't about to give up. With newfound determination, she picked up her guitar and placed her fingers back into position to play a C chord, refusing to give up until she got it right.