Reba and Barbra Jean walked out to Reba's car after their meeting with Madame Ilvinsky. Reba was still a little freaked out over the fact that the woman knew her love life so well. It was truly odd and now that Barbra Jean suspected she had another man, she wasn't sure what to do or how to explain herself.

"So," Barbra Jean asked when they got in the car. "Care to explain?"

Reba started the engine and pulled out onto the street. "Care to explain what?"

"Don't play dumb. There's someone else? Other than Rhett?"

"No, there isn't. I told you that I don't believe in that fortune telling business. None of what she said is true."

"Reba, you're not a very good liar. Now just tell me who it is."

"There is no one else, Barbra Jean. Can we please drop it?"

"Reba, I am your best friend. I'm not going to judge you. Even Brock thinks something is up. We all love you and want to help you."

"I don't need help. I'm getting along just fine, thank you very much."

Barbra Jean was silent for a moment. Nothing could be heard but the sound of the air blasting through the vents. After a moment, Barbra Jean asked, "Would you tell me if I was making the wrong decision, even if I told you it would make me happy?"

Reba glanced at her. "What?"

"Would you?"

Reba recalled Brock asking her that same thing a few days before.

"I don't know what's best for you, Barbra Jean," She finally said. "If it makes you happy, it's obviously the right thing to do. What do you mean by that, anyway?"

"I just really want to be in Dallas. It's all I think about. It's all I talk about."

"Yeah, I know."

"It just seems so exciting. Houston has become boring. I've been here for so long. I just need a change of pace and Brock is not behind me on this. I thought he might warm up to the idea, but he hasn't. And it's got me thinking: Do I even want to be with him anymore?"

"Are you talking about divorce?"

Barbra Jean nodded. "I just can't help but feel like he's become bored with me. Half the time, it's like he's not even here. He's somewhere else mentally and it's not fair to me or Henry."

Reba nodded, knowing that it was partly her fault that he couldn't be completely there for his family.

"You just do what you think is best, Barbra Jean. Nobody knows better than you."

The wedding was a week away. Rhett and Reba still hadn't decided who would live where. Would he come back to Houston and live in her house on the weekends or would she just move to Dallas like he wanted in the first place?

"We probably should have thought about this sooner," Rhett said while the two were curled up on Reba's couch, watching a movie.

"We'll figure it out," Reba told him, sighing as he put his arm around her. She could tell that he wasn't really watching the movie. He had other things on his mind.

He kissed the side of her head before pulling back a bit and kissing her neck. She turned to him questioningly. "What are you doing?"

He chuckled. "What do you think?" He leaned in and touched his lips to hers, holding onto her side. But she wasn't having any of it. Lately, his kisses felt so wrong. She hadn't been with him since before her and Brock's thing started. She just didn't know if she could go through with it with him again. But here was the opportunity. Staring her in the face.

"I really don't feel like it tonight," She told him quietly, placing a hand on his cheek to get him to stop.

"Why not?" He ran his hand down her thigh, leaning close.

"I just don't feel up to it."

"Baby-"

"Will you please not call me that?"

"What?"

"I hate it when you call me baby or honey. It irritates me."

"I'm sorry..."

She sighed and turned around, sitting with her back to the couch, no longer leaning up against him. "I'm just on edge right now."

"Let me help you get rid of some of that stress."

She shook her head. "Not tonight."

He sighed and leaned back against the couch like she was doing. "We haven't touched each other since I got back from Dallas. Relationships are supposed to be give and take and you're doing a whole lot of taking and not enough giving."

"How am I taking? This past week is the first time I've been around you in a month."

"Yeah, that's a problem, too."

"You're the one who decided to move."

"You're the one who wouldn't come with me. We're getting married. I thought you were supposed to want to be with me all them time. That's how I feel about you."

"Rhett, I'm not exactly like you. I'm not the kind of woman that needs a man by her side constantly. I thought you understood that when we got together."

He shook his head in disbelief. "I guess not."

"Yeah."

"So what does this mean?"

"You can let it mean whatever you want."

She stood up and walked into the kitchen, needing to get away before she spilled her secret and ruined everything. But then again, what would it really matter? Everything was so messed up, anyway. What could one little secret hurt?

Brock took her to dinner on the other side of town the following night. It was a pretty nice restaurant and she appreciated the attention from him.

"Six days, huh?"

Reba nodded, moving around the food on her plate with her fork. "Yep. Six days."

"Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded, exhaling slowly. "I will be once I get it over and done with."

"You know you don't have to go through with it."

She looked up slowly. "We have less than a week together. Can we keep the conversation light, please? I don't want to talk about the wedding or Rhett or anything."

"Okay. I'm sorry." He leaned back in the booth. "But you know you don't have to."

Reba dropped her fork onto her plate, listening to it clatter. "What do you suggest I do? Spend the rest of my life alone?"

"Wouldn't you rather than be married to someone you don't love or even like, for that matter?"

"I've been alone long enough. It isn't much fun."

"You could always be with me."

Reba laughed. "Yeah, right. You're funny."

Brock chuckled along with her. "Yeah. We'd never work again." He put his head down, taking a sip of his drink. "What a hell of a time that would be."

"It'd just be fighting all the time. Too many arguments. We work one way and only one." She held up a finger. "Just friends."

"Friends with benefits," He reminded her, winking.

She shook her head with a smile. "Don't remind me."

He leaned forward. "Would we really be that bad together, though?"

Reba cocked her head to the side. "What are you talking about, Brock? You have Barbra Jean."

He looked at her. "We all know that isn't going to last."

"Brock!"

"Well, I'm sorry. That's what happens when you get married to someone you don't love like a wife. Or a husband."

Reba rolled her eyes, standing from the booth. "I can't listen to this. I'm marrying him in six days whether you like it or not. Got it? You can either come to the wedding as my friend and support me, or you can not come and never speak to me again. It's your choice." With that, she walked out of the restaurant, leaving Brock to ponder on what he was going to do. He knew he had to stop her one way or another. He just wasn't sure how. He never was good at weighing his options.

When Reba got home that night, Rhett was already asleep. She had told him she was going to see a movie with Barbra Jean. She expected him to question her but he didn't. He just told her he'd do a little light reading and go to bed.

After showering and climbing into bed next to him, she turned off her lamp and snuggled down under the covers. She was almost asleep when her phone buzzed from her bedside table, indicating she had received a text message. She lifted her head and grabbed her phone, looking at the number. Brock.

Groaning softly, she unlocked her phone and read the text.

I know you're upset with me and you don't agree with what I'm telling you, but I want you to know that if you ever, ever change your mind, I'll always be here to help you through it. Always.