Chapter One

"Do you two still love each other?"

Rebas jaw dropped, as did the hand that was sliding her purse over her shoulder. Brock lifted his hands in the air and stared at her, as if she just might have the answer.

She did, but she couldn't give it. And it seemed that Barbara Jean walking through the door was a good thing for the first time she could remember.

"Hey, sorry I'm late! Oh, good, Reba, you're still here! C'mon, let's gain up on Brock – " she began, but was interrupted.

"Yes."

Everyone stared at Brock; Barbara Jean confused, Reba dumbfounded, the therapist understanding.

"What – you want us to gain up on you?" Barbara Jean snickered.

Brock stood and walked to his ex and spouse, looking Reba in the eye. "Reba, I still love you."

Reba was speechless, she just gaped. Finally she managed, "B-but, it's just the whole 'mother of my children' thing, not in love…"

Brock shook his head. "That would make it easier, Reba, but I am in love with you."

Silence filled the room again. Barbara Jean was still holding Reba tightly to her side, and both were trying to process this as they stared, shocked, into his face.

Finally Barbara Jean dropped her arm. "Well…" she said, looking down. "Um…I should let the three of you handle this because obviously things are working out fine!"

She was about to leave before the therapist said, "Please – Barbara Jean, stay."

Barbara Jean paused with her foot out the door, then turned and slammed the door. "Fine. I'll stay."

"Thank you. Can we all sit down?"

Brock and Reba, still staring into each others faces, nodded and sat. The two sat on the couch, opposite ends with Reba closest to the therapist, Barbara Jean in the arm chair, and Brock in the middle of the two. Reba didn't want to look at Barbara Jean's face, because just from her voice she could hear the anger, hurt, shock...betrayel...that she had felt when she had been abandoned.

"Brock, you've just said you still love Reba. Reba, have you anything to say to that?"

Reba looked at him, then Brock, then back. She really couldn't think of anything. "I…I don't know what to say, I mean…"

"Well, Brock answered the question, how about you?" he pressed.

Reba did her quick glance around the room, this time catching Barbara Jean's eye. Bad idea. She could have answered with complete honesty if she hadn't seen the pain etched behind those eyes. She knew that pain - knew what it was like to be told that who she loved didn't want her anymore.

She took a deep breath. "I don't know," she lied.

"You don't know?" he repeated.

"That's right…I'm not sure yet."

Pause again. "Can you try to explain what you mean?"

Reba stood and began to pace again. She did her best thinking moving around, and tried to focus on anything but the three pairs of eyes following her.

"Look…it's hard for me to really delve into these kind of feelings with Barbara Jean in the picture. I've been avoiding anything like this ever since the divorce, so something like this wouldn't happen!"

"But obviously, something is happening now, regardless. Now might be a good time to confront it. Do you still have feelings, then?"

Reba sighed again. She hated sharing so much pain to so many people. And she'd only meant to come down and yell at this man…now she was receiving counseling and discussing whether she and Brock still loved each other?

"I…" she began. The room tensed. "Need time." She finished. "I know it's unfair, and I don't mean to walk out with unanswered questions, but I'm really not ready."

"You can't leave!" Barbara Jean burst. She looked more angry and hurt than Reba had ever seen her. "Not when my husband is in love with you and not me!"

"BJ, I didn't say I don't love you-"

She stood, leaning over her husband and pointing to Reba. "No, you said you love Reba, and that's just about as close as you can get to saying you don't love me! If anyone is leaving, I am! And Brock, when you get home, Henry and I won't be there."

She picked up her purse and headed for the door. Turning, she finished, "See you next week," glared at Brock, and was gone.

Reba gaped at where Barbara Jean had been, then at Brock. 'This is great, just great!' she thought, but was too flabbergasted to utter a sound. Besides, she would have...had...done the same thing.

The therapist sighed, standing. "I think this is where we should end it today – we did get a lot out in the open. Reba, can you try to have an answer somewhat ready by next week?"

Reba still couldn't speak. She just nodded, and was gone.