One Mistake After Another
"Don't you come in here yelling at me. I'm not Barbara Jean and this is not your house." Reba Hart said through clinched teeth at her ex-husband who stood before her. She didn't know who he thought he was, walking into her house and yelling at her for issues between him and his current wife. The fact that Reba wanted no part to do with their relationship and that she was drug into it by his tall, blonde, insane wife only added fuel to her fire.
"Oh calm down,'' Brock replied in a changed tone, "I can't talk to a hysterical woman." That was it. The anger registered in Reba's pale face as she stared at him.
"Get out of my house." She finally said as she started walking towards the front door pointing to it. "Get out." She opened the door, signaling the way. Brock stood firm.
"No. You do things to make my life miserable because you resent me and I am not leaving here until we straighten things out between us."
Reba let the door slam shut behind her as she walked back to him. "Where was that attitude 3 years ago?"
"Okay, you know what? That's what I want to talk about."
"Do you?" Reba asked, walking towards him with the confidence and sass that Reba had made her own. She stop when she got close enough to hold a finger up to his face and stare directly up into his eyes. "Because if you open that door I guarantee you're not going to like what you find behind it."
"I know I won't."
"You did me wrong, Brock. Flat out wrong!"
"No, everything I did was wrong!"
"I know-" Reba stopped, realizing what Brock had said. Her face fell as she went silent, gazing up at him with curious eyes and encouraging him to explain. "What?" She finally asked.
"I'm trying to be honest, Reba." Brock said. "That's where we are in my therapy now. Forcing me to be completely honest with myself. And as the person who knows me best, you can just imagine how unpleasant that is." Reba's shoulders dropped, along with her defenses, at the seriousness in his voice.
"Well that's a good thing, right? I mean, that's what you're supposed to do in therapy. Be honest." Reba's confidence was gone and her voice was uncertain as she tried to figure out what Brock was implying.
Brock walked past her. "Yeah, and that's what I was supposed to be doing when we were in couples therapy too, only...I didn't."
"Oh." Reba turned around to face his back, which was now turned to her.
"You know I guess it was just easier to blame my unhappiness on everybody else and because I was afraid, everyone I cared about got hurt. My kids..." Brock turned to look at Reba in the eyes, finally facing the truth he had held deep inside for 3 years. "My best friend..." He said in a shaky voice. He turned again after he said it, bringing his hand to his face to hold back the tears in his eyes.
"Calm down, I can't talk to a hysterical man." Reba said in a quiet voice. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. She saw the tears streaming down Brock's face as he turned to face her slowly.
"I'm just so sick of hurting everybody, Reba."
Without saying a word, Reba reached out and pulled him into a hug. Feeling her gentle arms around him made his body melt as he clung to her and buried his face in her neck. He felt her hand reach up and cup the back of his head. He shivered, smelling her familiar, forbidden scent and feeling her soft body so close to his. He quickly shut out his emotions. Now was not the place. He couldn't help but feel that there were eyes on them. There was too much to risk.
Reba felt her body heat up as his arms wrapped tightly around her torso. His face, pressed so sincerely against her neck, sent a deep tingle across her body. She held him like she knew she had to, but didn't dare go beyond that. Now was not the place. She couldn't help but feel that there were eyes on them. There was simply too much to risk.
Barbara Jean stood on one side of Brock Hart in their kitchen, Reba on the other. Reba was trying to go out the back door, give them the space they needed. Brock knew he couldn't let her go.
"Could you give me a second with Reba first?" He asked Barbara Jean. Reba stilled, hating being such a huge part in this mess. Barbara Jean looked at him with a mixture of hurt and rage in her eyes.
"You want me to leave?" Barbara Jean asked, although it came out more like an exhausted statement. "Okay I'll leave. But make it a good minute, Brock. Make sure at the end of that minute you've figured out whatever it is that you need to figure out because I can't keep living like this." Barbara Jean walked out of the room.
Reba quickly came out of her silence from the door and rushed to Brock. "Brock go after her. She thinks that you think that you made a mistake by leaving me and marrying her and everything. Go tell her she was wrong!"
"I don't think I can do that."
"And why the heck not?"
"Because..." Brock looked into Reba's eyes. "I do think I made a mistake."
"Cut!" Reba jumped. "What kind of facial expression was that?" Reba looked over to her husband, sitting behind the director's chair. Whoever gave him the impression that he ran the place, she'll never know. But no one dared argue with him. He stood and walked towards her. "Do you even understand what's going on in this scene? Your face doesn't show one ounce of emotion, yet you expect this to be our greatest season finale yet?"
"Narvel, I'm trying..." Reba sighed, breaking character as she ran her hand through her red hair.
"Well you're not trying hard enough!" He barked back. "It's like you've got something else on your mind and you can't even focus. You know what," Narvel turned to the cast and waved his hands, "everyone take an early lunch break. Obviously our 'star' here needs a second to get herself together." He threw down his script and walked out the back door opposite the set and towards the cafeteria.
Reba stood for a moment, her arms tight across her chest and looking angrily at the ground, as she felt eyes on her. She sighed and walked to her dressing room.
She closed the door softly behind her and walked to her vanity. When she approached the mirror, she could see the drastic way she had aged over the last couple years. Tears she had tried so hard to resist filled her eyes as she sat down in her chair and finally allowed herself to silently sob. She had never taken him so personal so easily, but he had also never been like this. Something had changed drastically in her husband of 20 years, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. She rested her head in her hands and continued to cry.
She didn't hear the door open behind her, but she did hear the footsteps. She refused to look up, refused to let him see her so weak. She felt hands softly grasp her shaking shoulders.
"It's okay."
"No it's not." She mumbled in response.
"Yes it is. Hey...Look at me." Against her will, she was turned around in her seat. It took her several seconds of heavy breathing and sniffing before she finally allowed herself to look up at Chris. He waited patiently for her to speak as he stared down at her with compassion in his eyes, his hands still firm on her shoulders.
"I just don't know what to do anymore." Reba said helplessly.
Chris had never seen Reba, a woman of strength and dignity, so weak and fragile. He could feel his heart aching in his chest at the sight of black tear stains falling down her soft, porcelain cheeks. He reached out and brushed one away, then kneeled in front of her.
"Come here." He said as he pulled her into a hug. She rested her body against his and cried into his neck. She didn't know what was causing these feelings-the way Narvel had treated her or the warmth of her friend comforting her. Chris had always been touchy with her, and it was something she just learned to live with. He was a flirt by nature. But lately, it seemed that there was more to it. Whether it was him or her, she couldn't tell. It could be the fact that Narvel had been pushing her away. Maybe she wanted warmth from another man. Or it could be that Chris noticed these things, and finally found his opportunity to show her just what she meant to him. To show her what she deserved.
Either way, something strange happened to both of them as Chris held her tight against him. He pressed his lips to her cheek, so close to his face, and kissed her reassuringly. Reba pulled back, and at first he thought it was because he had overstepped his boundaries. But then he saw a thankful, worn out smile across her face. He smiled in return, and without thinking, reached up and cupped her cheek. It was just as soft as he imagined. Her makeup had rubbed off slightly, showing light freckles and somehow a sense of vulnerability across her sleepy face. He hadn't realized he was staring at her until her face slowly went serious. His did the same as he leaned up to her. Without realizing what he was doing, he turned his head and lightly placed his lips upon hers. Reba didn't move at first as he pulled back and stared at her. He wore a shocked expression, but for some reason, Reba wore none. She just looked back at him, as if she had expected it to come. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He could still feel her soft lips against his, and as he was coming out of his shock, his body yearned for more. As if asking permission, he brought his other hand to her opposite cheek, now completely cupping her face, and slowly drew in to her.
Reba opened her mouth slowly, and Chris took the invitation. He felt fireworks explode from inside of him as he ran his thumbs across her cheeks. Tears began to pour down Reba's face again as she accepted his kiss, running one hand through his hair and rubbing his back with the other. As soon as Chris heard her sniffle, he pulled back. He looked into her crying eyes, wanting to ask if he had done something wrong, but he couldn't seem to get the words out. As if she knew what was going through his mind, Reba shushed him through her tears and ran her finger across his lips. He leaned in and kissed her cheeks and her forehead and her temples. He placed reassuring pecks on every inch of her face that he could. He was caught up in the moment, and placed a kiss on her jawline. He felt her body tense up briefly. He looked back up at her.
"I'm sorry." He slurred, trying will all he could to contain himself.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, baby." She rested her forehead on his and held his hands in her lap. "You were there for me when no one else was." She sighed, remembering all the times they had had deep conversations during their breaks. Although she never completely opened up to him, she told him more than she had ever told anyone. He always seemed to be there when she needed him, and overtime they had built a bond that she had never shared with anyone else, not even her husband.
As if he read her thoughts, he pulled her into his arms again. He was still kneeling in front of her vanity chair. The way he wrapped his arms so tightly around her and the way she could feel his warm breath against her neck reminded her of the scene they had shot not too long before. Only this time, something was different. A camera man wasn't recording it. There wasn't a row of writers and directors telling them what to do and how to do it. And above all else, her husband wasn't watching. This feeling sent a small glimmer of hope through her, and she let her stiff body relax in his arms.
Chris felt relief rush through him as he felt her body relax and fall closer into him. More than anything, he wanted her permission. He had been hiding his feelings for way too long. He had always assumed Reba would kick his ass if he ever tried anything, but now, seeing her as he had never seen her before, he wondered just how she would react. His feelings for her were beyond lust, although that's all he had thought they were when they first started working together. But somehow, over time, he began to know the stern yet sweet, determined yet loving, independent yet needing, strong yet fragile woman who everyone had misread. He realized while holding her in his arms that she wasn't made of steel. She hurt deeply. Her life had not been easy, despite what she led others to believe. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take that hurt away. Yes, the way he felt for her went far beyond lust.
He squeezed her tighter and as he buried his face into her neck, he found his lips making contact with her soft skin. He held them there for a second, then gently pressed them farther against her skin, just enough for him to do without it seeming like more than it was. She let out a sigh, almost too quiet for him to hear. Yet he had heard. Hearing any signal of pleasure from her sent a chill down his body, and he immediately but his lips back to her soft skin. He gave her soft, brief kisses, waiting for another reaction. When he felt her hand tighten it's hold on his shirt, he opened his mouth against her and let his tongue graze her neck. She moaned sincerely in his ear. That was all he needed to hear. He brushed every piece of hair out of his way and took control of her neck. His movements were so gentle, so real, that Reba could hardly contain herself. It had been so long since someone had been concerned about her feelings. She let her head fall back and sighed slowly. Chris stroked her hair and sucked at her skin. He brought one hand to rub her arm as the other cupped the side of her face.
Reba heard it first. They were both so lost in the moment that neither one of the heard the heavy footsteps coming towards her dressing room. It was almost too late when the sound enerupted her peace and made her heart race faster than it already was.
"Chris!" She said in a weak voice. He didn't pull away. She grabbed his hair and yanked him back quickly. He looked a mixture of shocked and something else that Reba had never seen in his eyes before. She couldn't take her gaze off of him as her body lit on fire again.
The door opened and Narvel walked in. "We're back on-" He stopped with a confused look when he saw Chris on the ground in front of his wife as she sat with a tear stained, blushed face. "What's going on? What's the matter with you?"
Chris turned away from the man and clinched his fist together, trying to hide his anger. He couldn't betray Reba by letting Narvel know what he knew. More than anything, he wanted to punch him square in the face for the pain he was causing her. Reba looked down and noticed his white muscles. She cleared her throat then looked at her husband.
"Nothing, everything is fine. I'm coming." Reba said bleakly as she stood up and walked out of the room past him, her confidence and sass back as she strutted down the hall. Of course, Chris no longer bought her act. He knew the feelings she was hiding, knew what she needed, and knew that more than anything, he wanted to give them to her.
Narvel looked at him questionably before turning and walking away, leaving Chris on the floor in Reba's dressing room with his head in his hands.
*****Thanks for reading! I'll write an ending if I get enough requests! How do you guys think it should end? Should Reba give in and get Chris alone or let Narvel know how she feels? Leave your thoughts in the review section!*****