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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 played 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 the last 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