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Bree was still gazing up at the sky when she realized she wasn’t alone. The familiar scent of his cologne told her who had come to sit next to her on the sand without her even tilting her head over to look at him. She didn’t, either. Whatever he had to say, he could say it while she watched the only cloud she’d seen in a while slowly float by. “I’m sorry,” Trent said, his voice as quiet and still as the heavens above them. “I should’ve listened to you.” Bree took that to mean that he hadn’t. It was odd that he was here, but it was also quite possible he’d snuck away from the reception for a few minutes to come and apologize to his lifelong friend. Monica had gotten what she’d wanted, after all. Why would she care if Trent left for a few minutes to apologize to someone who no longer matte