Meant to Be

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.”