Note: Inspiration, inspiration! Let me know what you think of it! x.
10. Barbra Jean's choice
That same evening, Brock had rung up Reba. Kyra and Jake were visiting Reba's parents and Cheyenne and Van were in their own place. The conversation was short, in less than twenty second Brock told Reba he wanted to come over. And Reba couldn't say no. When Brock knocked on her door and she let him in, she could see from the look on his face that Brock had told Barbra Jean what he needed to tell her. They sat down on the couch in silence, apart from each other. They hadn't touched each other since Brock came in, and Reba got somewhat scared of touching him. She wasn't sure how he was going to react. She needed to know what had happened between him and Barbra Jean though. "What happend Brock?" Their eyes locked and Brock said: "I'm not sure... She just walked out on me. At first, she just didn't believe what I'd told her. Then, she wanted to know who the other woman was." When Brock used the words 'the other woman', Reba felt as if someone had slapped her in her face. For Barbra Jean, she was now officialy the other woman. If Brock had told her he was in love with Reba of course. Reba was almost afraid of the answer to the question, but she needed to know. "What did you say?". "I didn't say anything." Brock ran a hand through his hair and then continued. "But she guessed it was you." It hit Reba even harder than she'd expected. It had been spinning in her mind from the moment she realised Brock loved her as well, but to hear Brock saying it, made it final. She wás the other woman. Brock could see Reba was trying to fight her tears and grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. Reba was just thinking about how she'd felt when she was all alone.
The kitchen didn't feel the way it did before. Neither did the living room, or the bathroom. She didn't want to think about how it felt in the bedroom. She stood there, all alone, since the kids were at school. They seemed to be pretty cool about the whole situation, but it was slowly tearing her apart. She grabbed a photograph, that was standing on a cupboard, and looked at it. It was their family. Cheyenne, Kyra, Jake, Brock and herself. That was the way it was supposed to be. Their entire family together. Not some bubbling blonde that was in the middle of it, stealing her husband and tearing her family apart.
When Reba couldn't hold back her tears anymore, Brock swept away the first tear that came streaming down her face. A lot of tears followed up to that one though, and Brock could probably only swep them away with a huge broom. So he just held her tight, assuring her he would never let her go, and kissed her forehead. All the stress and all the emotions Reba had been feeling for a long time were the cause of her outburst that moment. She wanted to stop crying, but she couldn't. Brock didn't mind at all though. He kept helding her and stroking her hand with his thumb. And both Brock and Reba knew that he would be doing that as long as necessary.
Almost two hours later –it was almost ten pm,- Reba was still lying in Brock's arms. They were watching tv in silent, while Brock kept stroking Reba's hair. After Reba stopped crying, they decided they would talk about Barbra Jean later that evening. Both knew that they had to start their conversation quick, since it was almost bedtime. And both weren't sure what was going to happen when either one of the would say they wanted to go to bed. When Brock decided they needed to talk, they both heard Reba's mailbox ramble. A letter was falling on the ground in her house, and she stood about, still a bit dull from the lying and crying, and grabbed the letter. It was adressed to both Reba and Brock, and both recognized the handwriting. It was Barbra Jean's. Both started reading, without saying a word.
Dear Reba and Brock,
I just assumed you (Brock) were at Reba's, if not, then I guess you'll read this letter in a short time. I took me long to decide what I was going to write down, but I realised I should be just honest. I was –and I'm still,- hurt when I heard what Brock told me this evening. But somewhere, deep inside, I guess I've always known what Brock told me. It was obvious you two have always loved each other, even though your actions doesn't always cocur with that. Reba, I want you to know I'm not mad. I don't hate you, how could I possibly hate you, you're my best friend. Of course I'm hurt, but it wasn't such a big suprise as I think it should've been for a happily married woman. I guess I realised at that point that I've always known Brock didn't love me as much as you need to, to spent an entire life together.
Brock, I still love you. I will always do. But this evening's conversation hurt me and I don't think I'm ready to see you and Reba being happy together yet. I'm going to my parents for a while, with Henry. I'll let you know when I get back, and just give me a sign when you want to see Henry, that's easy to encounter. When I get back, we can talk about all this. Together, or with the three of us. We'll speak soon.
Love you both, BJ
P.s: I have to let you know that I'm okay with the two of you being together, if it wasn't obvious yes. Even if it hurts, I guess it's the right thing.
When Brock and Reba realised both were finished reading, they looked at each other. They both admired Barbra Jean for being completely honest. And they both realised that Barbra Jean had told them she'd approved the two of them being together. She made a choice. And Reba and Brock were lucky with that choice. Reba and Brock looked in each others eyes, and Reba sat up straight. Her eyes were still puffy from the crying and Brock's face looked tired. Both gave each other a smile, and saw the spark in the other's eyes. Reba lend in for a kiss. It was a sweet, soft kiss. It was a kiss of two people who loved each other more than they possibly could.