Brock awoke, feeling as if he had gotten the best night sleep of his life. He couldn't quite remember the night before, he didn't think. After a moment of trying to recall the events of the prior evening he remembered the end of the card game he played with his ex-wife, and he recalled how they took their wine into the living room and…he kissed her.

He quickly opened his eyes to stare into the sleeping face of his ex-wife, causing his heart to skip a beat. Her makeup from the day before was slightly smeared around her eyes, but it didn't hide the pale glow of her face, her freckles. He just couldn't believe what he had done. No, he didn't want to think about it yet.

Instead of thinking, he observed her face, so relaxed in her sleeping state. He never saw her like that anymore, relaxed and so peaceful. And he knew he would never see her like that again once she awoke as well, since she would most likely begin to yell and panic. He decided to wait for her to wake on her own. There was no way he wanted to start the argument before it was absolutely necessary.

Reba could feel eyes on her, watching her as she drifted into consciousness. Was it one of the kids? No, they were gone for the summer. Perhaps Barbra Jean was there. No, since Brock was on her couch she doubted his wife would come over for their usual morning coffee. Wait…she didn't even remember going to bed the night before.

She moved a bit, feeling how sore her body was. It was a surprise since she didn't remember having a reason to be sore. She then realized she was naked beneath the sheets of her bed, a warm arm around her waist. Her eyes sprang open, and through her headache she stared into the eyes of the man who bedded her the night before.

"Oh, son of a bitch."

"I know." She pushed away from him, quickly making certain she was covered by the sheet. It was obvious she was already in a state of panic, and it was clear she had already recalled the events of the past evening. "It's going to be okay."

"How can you say that? You…I…oh my gosh." She covered her face with her hands, trying to form sentences that were coherent. Tears began to form in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't want him to see her cry.

"I'm sorry, Reba."

"Just, give me a second to think." He sat up as well, folding his hands over his exposed stomach as he leaned against her headboard. His eyes drifted to the back of her head, observing her and slowly sliding down her uncovered back, seeing her creamy white skin spotted everywhere with freckles. His eyes continued to move downward. "Brock stop looking at my ass! I'm trying to think." She leaned back against the headboard as well to block his view of her nakedness as he turned his head away in embarrassment. "We have just ruined everything."

"I'm so sorry."

"Say something else."

"Well, what do you want me to say? I'm obviously just as freaked out as you are." She scoffed, turning to him with an astonished look upon her face.

"Are you kidding?"

"No. I cheated on my wife last night, Reba. To make it worse, it was with her best friend…and mine too. I am honestly freaking out." She didn't want to cry, but it was becoming increasingly difficult when he brought up his wife. She placed one hand upon her forehead to relieve some of the pressure caused by her headache.

"Did we at least use a condom?" He shook his head, sighing as he looked at her distressed form. Of course she had to bring something up like that, something that would add more stress to their situation.

"No, we didn't."

"We're so stupid. How are we going to tell her? How are we going to tell the kids? Oh, they can't know. We have to keep it a secret from them, but not her. She has to know. What will she say? Oh, God." He turned to grasp her shoulders in his hands, bringing her out of her rambling mess. "Don't touch me." She struggled to remove herself from his hands, but he didn't let go. She only gave up when the sheet began to fall from her chest, and she needed to hold it steady.

"Look, leave all of that to me okay. I'm the one who cheated, not you. We aren't going to tell the kids, and she isn't going to know you were a part of this."

"You can't lie to her like that."

"Yes I can. It's either lie to her, or we can pitch this family into more chaos." She shook her head, and he could tell she didn't want that at all, but her next words shocked him more than anything. It wasn't the Reba he knew talking to him at that moment.

"Let's just pretend it never happened. Get dressed and go home to your wife, and we'll never talk about this again."

"I've never heard you talk like this."

"Well, we've never done something this terrible." He looked into her eyes, knowing she was right, but he couldn't take the idea of bringing her down with him. Perhaps her suggestion was the right plan of action at the moment. It would at least work until he could figure out something better.

"I won't tell then. But, the guilt is going to be heavy."

"I know. But the resentment will be a lot worse if we tell." He nodded and paused a moment before leaning forward and placing a small peck upon her lips. It was unexpected, but she welcomed the warmth he passed to her. It helped her know that she wasn't alone when it came to feeling regret and pain for what they had done. "You should go."

"I should." He stared into her eyes for just a moment longer before standing to find his clothes. She wanted to look away, but couldn't as he stepped into his boxers and began to step into his pants. "If I can't look at your ass you can't look at mine."

"Sorry." She blushed, her face suddenly matching her hair as she turned away in embarrassment. He only gave her a small smile as he finished buttoning his shirt, finding humor in how quickly her face could turn so red.

"I'll talk to you later." She nodded and watched him walk out of her bedroom. And, without her permission, she began to sob into her hands.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Barbra Jean, I'm home." Brock entered his house through the front door to find his wife cleaning while Henry was playing with blocks on the floor. She met his eyes angrily before asking their son to go upstairs to play.

"Where were you last night?" He closed the door behind him, wishing he could just go back to Reba's house where the tension wasn't as thick, surprisingly enough. The two of them had just made one of the biggest mistakes of their lives, but they weren't as angry at one another as Barbra Jean was at him. It was strange.

"You said I couldn't come home. I stayed with Reba." He noticed that he didn't say that he stayed on Reba's couch, but that was irrelevant when his wife would never fathom the idea of her best friend sleeping with her husband.

"You stayed with Reba, of course. I can't believe she let you stay!"

"Well, like me, she doesn't know why you're so pissed off!" She shushed him, moving closer.

"Watch your language!" He glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest and awaiting her constant chatter about how angry she was, but of course she would forget to tell him why.

"Barbra Jean, I'm really not in the mood to listen to you yell at me. Do me a favor and tell me what I did wrong so we can get over this."

"If you don't know, you deserve to be left in the dark." She began walking towards the door, turning once more to face him. "Watch Henry, I'm going to Reba's."