A/N: Just a note to consider as you read. If you haven't noticed, Reba is quite the stubborn one. This story kind of exemplifies that bull-headedness and possibly gives an explanation for it. Enjoy.
Reba stared out the window as lightening flashed across the sky and thunder shook the house. The clock on the wall only read half past three, but the storm clouds made the streets outside her home look as dark as the dead of night. She wrung her hands together forcefully as she glanced away from the road landing upon the Burberry scarf that hung over the dark, oak desk beside her.
Quickly, without letting another thought sneak itself into her mind, she grabbed the soft piece of fabric and shoved it forcefully into her purse before swinging the front door open. She stopped abruptly as the door slammed shut with a thud and a lightning bolt flashed across the sky. Rain pounded the drowning brick sidewalk before her while the battle in her heart raged just as strongly as the storm around her. Fearing she would lose her courage if she waited a minute longer she lowered her head and rushed to the car, locking the gate of her heart, letting no emotion in.
She squinted through the dash as her windshield wipers worked feverously to clear a line of sight for her. With no success, she nearly ran a red light as she hurried through the intersection and into the city.
Across town, brock was staring at the paperwork upon his desk as the words ran together. He rested his head in his hand and closed his eyes. It was almost four o'clock, but it felt like midnight. He knew it was going to be impossible to get home if the storm didn't break soon. Knowing he would not be getting any more paperwork done, he gathered the stack and filed in in the open drawer at his knee. It was hopeless to stare at his desk for another hour without a cause. Just as he shut the drawer, he heard a soft knock on the heavy wooden door of his office.
He pushed himself away from the desk and paced over to the door, surprised to see his hygienist standing in the otherwise dark, empty hall. "Barbara Jean, is everything okay?"
She looked up at him, her dark eyes capturing his gaze. "Everything is fine." She whispered stepping inside the doorway. "Is there anything I can help you with. Paperwork perhaps." Her quiet suggestions were the only noise that echoed through the office as Brock rendered speechless.
"B-Barbara Jean," he stumbled as she closed the door and ran her fingers up his chest, toying with the buttons at his collar. "I think you should go home, unless you want to wait for the storm to calm."
"Sometimes I just can't wait." She said slowly unbuttoning his shirt, raking her nails over his toned, tanned muscles, backing him against his desk as she did so.
"Barbara Jean…" he pushed her away only to be pushed back against the desk.
Reba pulled off the street and into the parking lot of the elaborate office building, not caring if her car made it into a parking space. She put the car and park and retrieved her keys, set on storming through the front door and into office 2A. She grabbed her purse from the passenger's seat, opening it just enough to see the plaid peek out. Roughly, she pulled the purse onto her shoulder and slammed the car door behind her as she rushed for the inside of the front door of the office.
She stopped in front of the large, gold framed picture mirror as she glared the woman she saw. Tear stains that she swore would never grace her face had made their appearance as prevalent as the storm on the short drive into town. She scoffed at the reflection before walking on the second door with Dr. Brock E. Hart D.D.S plated like a billboard for the greater Houston area.
She looked around the dimly lit lobby. If she didn't know better she would have thought the building vacant. The silence did not betray her theory. Knowing the office like her own home, she gripped her purse by her side as her stomach tightened. She felt her hand tremble with fear as it touched the cold, golden door knob. Did she really want to do this? Her question was answered when she turned the door handle, finding a large blond woman directly on the other side of the door.
She gasped rushing past Reba, grabbing her trench coat from the front desk and hurrying out into the storm.
Reba stared into the office as brock buttoned his collar and straightened his cuffs. "How could you?" she asked quietly with wide eyes threatening to betray her with fallen tears.
"Reba," he paced away from his desk as he took her in his arms. "It's not what it looks like."
She pushed him away, pulling the scarf from her purse and throwing it at his chest. "Really? Because it looks like you have been drilling more than just teeth."
"Reba, what is this?" he asked holding up the scarf she threw at him. His voice was gentle, caring, understanding, which only heightened her anger.
"I found it in your car." She turned away, squaring her jaw and trying her hardest to harden her heart to him. "Maybe you should tell your mistress to be a little more careful about where she leaves her clothes."
Your cheatin' heart,
Will make you weep,
You'll cry and cry,
And try to sleep,
But sleep won't come,
The whole night through,
Your cheatin heart, will tell on you...
"Reba, wait!" He stopped her at the door pulling her back inside the office as he did so.
"Get your hands off of me!" her harsh words echoed through the darkness as she roughly pushed his strong hands away from her waist. "I don't want you to touch me…ever…again." She steadied her voice as a whimper escaped her lips. She wasn't going to cry. No, she would be the strong one; the one who would end this.
"I don't know what you think you saw, but nothing happened between me and Barbara Jean." He rubbed his fingers together, fighting the urge to pull his wife into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.
"Nothing happened, brock? How naïve do you think I am? She rushed out of here and you were buttoning up your shirt, I think I can put the pieces together."
"But they're the wrong pieces, Reba." He broke down, placing his hands on her cheeks, ready to catch the tears he knew she was holding at bay. "She tried to seduce me, but I pushed her away. Reba, I love you; only you."
"Just stop." She closed her eyes feeling tears slip under her eyelashes and onto her cheeks. "Don't worry about coming home tonight." She gently pulled out of his grip, feeling a dagger go into her heart as she look into his sorrowful, blue eyes.
"Reba, you have to believe me." He closed his eyes, undoubtedly feeling the same unbearable pain that flashed through Reba's eyes.
"I don't have to do anything." She whispered with resentment dripping from her lips.
"Nothing happened."
"If your lips won't tell the truth, your heart eventually will." She softly kissed the corner of his lips before turning away and making her way toward the parking lot.
When tears come down,
Like falling rain,
You'll toss around,
And call my name,
You'll walk the floor,
The way I do,
Your cheatin' heart, will tell on you...
she shut the door behind her, refusing to look back. She stared at the ground, then at the wall as she tried to focus on a single point as she walked. Unfortunately, everything became blurry as she took her steps closer to the lobby.
She fell into a leather chair and dropped her purse on the carpeted floor, ignoring the contents that scattered about her feet. She held her head as a sob forced itself out of her throat. She promised herself she wouldn't cry, and here she was. She wanted to believe him when he said there was nothing going on between him and Barbara Jean, but she couldn't. She saw the sweat on her face, the straightening of his shirt. She found her scarf in his car. There was nothing that could excuse him. He was cheating and that was that.
He would know how much it hurt to lose her love.
Brock followed quickly behind his wife, restraining his arms when he saw his wife stumble through the hallway. He watched with pain etched on his heart and in his eyes as she fell into a chair and sobbed violently, soaking her cheeks with tears.
He watched as she fumbled around on the floor, picking up her cell phone in the process. She quickly dialed a number and hoped for someone to pick up. She calmed herself the best she could as she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.
It was obvious someone had picked up as she squared her shoulders and spoke with authority into the phone. "Just because Brock made the same mistake as us, don't think you can keep calling me. We are through." She hung up the phone and dropped it into her purse before walking out into the rain.
Your cheatin' heart,
Will pine some day,
And crave the love,
You threw away,
The time will come,
When you'll be blue,
Your cheatin' heart, will tell on you...
It had been an hour, and one would think the storm would have broken, but it had not. It had only intensified. Rain turned to hail as thunder turned into earth shattering roars. Reba ran to the car and shut the door quickly, rushing to turn on the radio. Quickly realizing that any country song lyrics would get into her mind and make her regret her decision, she turned it off and made her way to the main street.
She wouldn't be the weak one in the marriage. Her heart still felt like it had been pelted with darts, but it would pass. Brock would be the one with the pain that lived on. He would wish he hadn't been the one to break her heart. He would be the one coming back and begging for her forgiveness. It would be him…not her.
When tears come down,
Like falling rain,
You'll toss around,
And call my name,
You'll walk the floor,
The way I do,
Your cheatin' heart, will tell on you...
A/N 2: So, I don't believe this is one of my finer works, but it just kind of came to me and I wrote as I thought. Raw, unedited. Tell me what you think. Think of it as my transition back into writing breba fics after my absence.
A/N 3: I thought i should add this just incase it wasnt clear (i know, i know, literature is less meaningful when explained, but i dont consider this one of my greatest fics so...) the referece to the cheating heart (in the song) is (unexpextedly) reba.