A/N This is my first Reba fanfic so I'd be really interested to think what you all think. I've done a lot of writing in the past, but non for Reba and so I hope that I can get her right. All reviews would be greatly appreciated
This is set shortly after the divorce.
Reba rolled over in her bed, the soft cotton of her sheets brushing against her skin as she flicked some hair out of her eyes and felt a soft breeze on her bare arms. The open windows curtains were flapping slightly in the gentle breeze and the moon shone bright, giving her bedroom a dim, natural glow. For some reason, she just wasn't sleeping well lately and it was really starting to bug her. She'd lie awake for hours with thoughts and memories spinning round and round in her head, but why, she didn't know. She'd finally managed to drift off at around 2 in the morning after a day of playing in the park with Jake. By all rights, she should be exhausted, but here she was again. Awake. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she let out a frustrated sigh as she read 4:07 on the digital screen. Her mind drifted back to the day that Brock had brought her that very clock without her realising. She smiled briefly as she recalled that he had often moaned about having to wake her up after he had already slept in because she was supposed to be the one to wake him up. He often had to race around in the mornings to get ready because they had woken up late. Their original alarm clock had suddenly decided to stop working one day in the way that technology inconveniently does. He had come home one night with a box wrapped in blue paper and a massive smile on his face. After greeting her with a soft kiss, he had given her the box he carried and told her to open it and use it wisely. She hadn't been able to do anything but laugh as she unwrapped her 'present' and saw the digital clock. And there she was thinking he had got her something romantic…
Reba shook her head slightly as she tried to bring herself away from the past and away from thoughts of him, but she couldn't deny that he had been a major part of her life, but she didn't want him there anymore. After what he had done to her, she wanted to put him behind her, just like she had done with all the other men who had hurt her in her lifetime.
I woke up early this morning around 4 AM,
With the moon shining bright as headlights on the interstate.
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to catch some sleep,
But thoughts of us kept keeping me awake.
Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms,
I've been trying my best to get along,
But that's okay, there's nothing left to say but;
'Jake! You're gonna be late if you don't get your butt down here now' Reba called up the stairs. Jake was running late for school again and the pancakes she had made him were already going cold. She sighed as she washed up the pan she had used. Jake came bounding into the kitchen, and chucked his bag onto the floor as he grabbed a knife and fork and started to eat, not even noticing the cooling temperature of his breakfast.
'Come on you. Get outta here' Reba smiled at her son as he gulped down his food, gave her a quick hug with a 'bye Mom' and darted out the door. Before the back door could fully close, she heard him say 'Hi Dad. Bye Dad' and footsteps enter her kitchen. Turning her head, she saw said father. Brock closed the door behind him and smiled at his ex-wife.
'Hi Reba' he said cheerily, watching as Reba dried her hands on a dish cloth and placed one hand on her hip.
'Is there anything you need Brock, because I have a couple things I need to do today, and you aren't involved in any of them, so you're really not needed here.'
'I just came over to say Hi, that's all Reba. Sheesh. Someone's letting their hair colour rule their emotions this morning.' Brock frowned a little as he saw Reba still standing in front of him, her arms now crossed and a far from amused expression settled on her face.
'Brock, I thought that when you married Barbra Jean, you would at least have the courtesy to not come in and out of my house like you still lived here'
'Come on Reba, its not like I'm not still a member of this family'
'Unfortunately' Reba muttered under her breath.
'What's that supposed to mean? I know I hurt you Reba, but I never meant to'
'Well that's okay then' Reba retorted, her voice lined with bitterness. 'You know what Brock, you probably did me a favour. I thought that I wouldn't be able to live without you in my life. I've always had you there to pick me up when things get me down and I thought that I would always need that, but when our marriage went through that rough patch, I thought maybe it wasn't that I needed you, I wanted you there. And now you've left me, I've realised it was definitely that I just wanted you there 'cos I sure don't need you. So I should be thanking you. I want you to leave now' she finished as she moved over to the front door and held it open for him to leave but he quickly shut it again, not willing to end their conversation like that.
'I didn't mean to hurt you and I did always want to be there for you Reba. We've been through this a thousand times and I've apologised a thousand more. I don't know what else I can say or do to make you stop hating me'
'I don't hate you Brock. I should but I could never hate you. I just don't want you here anymore. I don't want your records on my shelf, I don't want your picture on my wall and I don't want your memories and voice rolling around in my head telling me that we were happy once. I've given you your space and I've given you your freedom to do whatever with whomever you want. Please. Just give me the same' Her voice was laced with a sad tone as she spoke her words, almost pleading with him. She didn't want to be reminded every time he burst through her door calling her name that once upon a time, that greeting would soon be followed up with a kiss. Brock couldn't think of anything to say in return to what the red head had said. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to summon words, but none would come.
'All I know is Brock, that when you're midlife crisis is over, the kids will be there or you'll be lying in bed next to her, and you'll think of me. You'll know what a moron you've been to throw away a 20 marriage for a 20 day affair'
Silence settled over the couple and they knew that nothing else could be said. Pulling open the door once more, Reba lowered her head in the same way that Brock had done and softly said 'Goodbye Brock'
Take your records, take your freedom.
Take your memories, I don't need them.
Take your space and take your reasons.
But you'll think of me.
Take your cat but leave my sweater,
Cos we have nothing left to weather,
In fact I feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me.
You'll think of me.
Days later, Reba still hadn't heard from Brock, but she hadn't really expected to. In retrospect, her words had seemed a little blunt and maybe too much, but at the time they had been exactly what she had been feeling and she felt that he needed to know. He couldn't just keep barging back in on her life and not expecting her to not even flinch. After waking early in the morning again, Reba fell back into an old routine that she had when her and Brock had been trying to hold their marriage together; she started driving in the small hours of the morning. She never knew where she was going or how long she would be, but the continuous sound of the engine and the emptiness of the roads acted as a comfort to her and gave her space and time to clear her head. Staring at the long road ahead of her, Reba thought back on the years that she had known him, Gosh, he'd been a part of her life for almost as long as she could remember. There wasn't many of her memories that didn't have the footprints of Brock on them. Every corner she turned in her life, he was there. Every time she needed someone to talk to, to unload on, to share her excitement, to wipe her tears; he was there. And now she needed to wipe all that away. She knew that she would never be able to erase Brock from her mind and she didn't really want to, she just wanted to gather all the moments where he played a part in one big box that wouldn't hurt her so much. Her thoughts seemed like a house. Each room had hundreds of memories and all over the floor there were items which never seemed to bother her but now, they were hazardous baggage that she could so easily stumble and trip on and get hurt if she wasn't careful constantly. That baggage was Brock's memories that he had trailed all over her past. The only comfort Reba could keep was that she knew it wasn't her fault. She knew that it was him who had run away from her and not the other way round. She could remind herself again and again that she had been trying to save her 20 year marriage and he had been the one who had thrown it away on an affair. She would never have forgiven herself if they had tried to work it out and she had been the one who had decided to turn off their life support and end it all. She could find relief in the fact that she would never know what could of or should have happened to the husband and wife.
I went out driving try'na clear my head.
Tryn'a sweep out all the rooms that my emotions left.
I guess I'm feeling just a little tired of this,
And all the baggage that seems to still exist.
Seems the only blessing I have left to my name,
Is not knowing what we could have been.
What we should have been.
The conversation that they had had spun in Brocks head over and over. Whatever he tried, he just couldn't get the red heads words out of his mind. 'I don't want your records on my shelf, I don't want your picture on my wall and I don't want your memories and voice rolling around in my head telling me that we were happy once. I've given you your space and I've given you your freedom to do whatever with whomever you want. Please. Just give me the same' Word for word, their conversation replayed. He had tried to give her what she had given him, he knew that she had been amazingly strong throughout their divorce and that she had build walls of steel to keep herself standing throughout everything, and her words had allowed him a glimpse of her true feelings. He had always been the one that she had come to when she had things she was bundling up inside she needs to talk about and he knew that through the divorce, she had had no one to do that with. Her support had been the one who had turned on her and hurt her. By seeing the strong Reba that the world had always seen had mad it easier for him in a way. He had been able to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, this time it wasn't an act. She hadn't been putting on a front of strength and maybe she really was okay without him. He had been able to tell himself that he had released her and it was what she needed but deep down he knew he was fooling himself just like he had been fooling her. He always had been able to lie well, especially to himself. But now that he had heard the pain in her voice, the delicate touch of pleaded for him to stop the hurting she felt, he had been forced to face facts. He had hurt the woman he loved forever in a way that he would never be able to forgive himself for. Sure, she would be okay - she was always the one who could get through anything - but that didn't mean she should have had to. Especially without a soul to confide her emotions in.
So take your records, take your freedom.
Take your memories, I don't need them.
Take your space and take your reasons.
But you'll think of me.
Take your cat and leave my sweater,
Cos we have nothing left to weather.
But you'll think of me.
Lying in bed next to the bubbly blonde, Brock listened to her even breathing. She was fun to be around and she could be extremely seductive, but she wasn't Reba, and that was what bothered him. Moonlight poured through his window and illuminated the bed that they shared. The thought suddenly hit him that she had been right. She was always right. She knew him better then he knew himself. 'You'll be lying in bed and you'll think of me' and sure enough, there he was. He knew that she meant he would be thinking of not only her, but their past and what could have been their future together if hadn't have just made that one mistake. They could have been happy. They could have grown old together like they always joked about when they were young. When her hair had turned pure white and he had a pair of checked slippers, when the kids had all moved out and they had retired, when they were free to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted and just do what they day told them to. They could go on a spontaneous picnic to the park or just drive down random roads and see where fate took them. Fate took them down the wrong road. Fate took them to Barbra Jean and a divorce which had no happy ending. And Brock was left with only one thing; his pride. He could tell the world that he had done the 'right' thing and married the woman that he had got pregnant, supported her child and gave her a home and love. But the one thing that killed him deep down, the dagger that was in his heart was the fact that he knew Reba would be okay. He knew that she was so strong that she could get through this whilst supporting the kids, working two jobs and having him popping in every day. She would be getting on with her life. That's what hurt the most. When she said that it wasn't that she needed him there, it was that she wanted him there. Knowing she was speaking the truth; that's what hurt the most.
Someday I'm gonna run across your mind.
But don't worry I'll be fine.
I'm gonna be alright.
While your sleeping with your pride,
Wishing I could hold you tight,
I'll be over you and on with my life.
He knew that he had made a mistake. That he had left the only woman who could make him weak at the knees by flashing that smile and looking into his eyes with those crystal bright blues. He knew that he would never be on the receiving end of a loving kiss again, never be able to burst through the door and see her drop a dishcloth down on the counter so she could both hands free to pull him into a tender hug. His possessions were removed from the house and moved into his new house with his new wife who didn't know the stories and the memories behind the items which left her alone with no trace of him. Any man who walked through the door would know that she was a single mom and a single woman, up for grabs by any man who could capture her loving heart. But no man would be good enough for her. Hell, even he wasn't good enough for her. The one man who she had declared her love to endlessly had taken that and ran into the arms of another woman who he didn't love, didn't adore. Not like he had loved her. Not like he adored her still. They were emotions he would never be able to show again and that was something he would have to face.
But she was right. He would think of her.
He would think of her all the time.
Take your records, take your freedom.
Take your memories, I don't need them.
Take your space and take your reasons,
But you'll think of me.
Take your cat and leave my sweater,
Cos we have nothing left to weather,
In fact I feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me.
You're gunna think of me.
Oh someday baby.
Someday.
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Thank you for readind :)