Her dress fit perfectly, the chairs were all set up in the yard, the minister was accounted for, the flowers hadn't died, and the cake was vanilla. Everything was going just the way it was planned. The guests were arriving and taking their seats as soft piano music played and everybody wore smiles on their faces. Everyone except the bride. She was a nervous wreck.

"Just take a deep breath in," Barbra Jean told her, inhaling. "And big breath out." She exhaled. "Do it with me."

"Stop it, Barbra Jean," Reba told her as she messed around with the food arrangements in the kitchen. "I'm under enough stress. I don't need you telling me how to do something I've been doing for forty-eight years, alright? Just back up." She shooed her away, but Barbra Jean wasn't having any of it. She was too busy trying to fuss with the flowers that were in Reba's hair.

"Your flowers are falling," Barbra Jean said.

"Well, fix them. And hurry. We got to get a move on."

So while Reba made sure the food looked nice for after the ceremony, Barbra Jean arranged the flowers in her hair so they would look nice and put together. A moment later, J.V. strolled in the kitchen in his suite and cowboy boots.

"Hey, carrot top," He greeted his daughter, hugging her immediately.

"Hey, Daddy." Reba hugged him back. "You look spiffy." She straightened his tie. "Mama getting ready?"

"Oh, yes. She's up there fiddling around with her hair."

Helen and J.V. had made it in last night from Muleshoe, Texas and had spent the night in Van and Cheyenne's old room. They had met Rhett several times before and they liked him okay. J.V. had already given them his blessing, but Reba noticed that whenever he was around Rhett, he kept a stern eye on him.

"Ten minutes, Mom," Cheyenne said, coming in the back door. She was wearing her matron of honor dress. A beautiful, silk purple one with a sash in front and crystals for the straps. Barbra Jean's looked identical, as well as Kyra's. "Oh, you look so beautiful. I forgot how gorgeous the dress was."

"Thank you, honey. Where's Elizabeth?" Reba reached for the little white basket the girl would carry down the aisle to drop flower petals from. "She'll need her basket."

"I think she's upstairs with Meemaw. Van has Kasey. Do you still want him to hold the rings?"

Reba nodded, placing the basket on the counter and grabbing the tiny pillow her grandson would carry, putting it beside the basket. "He'll do just fine. All he's gotta do is walk about fifteen steps to the end of the yard." She turned around to grab a platter of cupcakes with purple and white frosting, her wedding colors, and walked over to the table to set them down. Once the ceremony was over, everyone would come in and grab their food before going back outside for the reception.

When Reba went to walk back to the counter, she caught a glimpse of Brock in his tuxedo, milling about near the French doors where she would walk out of. The sight of him made her breath catch. She looked further out into the yard and saw Rhett standing underneath the tree which had been strung with lights. The minister stood next to him, holding his little book in his hands, checking his watch.

As she watched everybody take their seat as the final minutes were counted down, she looked down at her engagement ring. It felt so cold sitting on her finger. Time seemed to stop as she twisted it off carefully, holding it in her right hand. She faintly heard her mother and Elizabeth walk into the kitchen, but she paid them no attention. She hardly heard Kyra and Jake enter the space as well. She drowned everybody out as she looked at the clock mounted on the wall. Four minutes until one o'clock. Her heart started to race and she backed up until she bumped into the table. That was what brought her out of her trance.

"Mom, are you okay?" She heard Cheyenne say.

"Reba?" Barbra Jean said next. "What's wrong?"

She put a hand to her head and pulled out a chair, sitting in it and trying to catch her breath. What was she about to do? Marry a man she didn't love and knew she never would? Would it be worth it? Brock said it wouldn't be. Brock said it was miserable. Brock. He was coming through the French doors. He must have seen her sit down in a panic.

"Hey, Reba, you okay?"

She heard his voice but didn't know how to respond. She just looked up at him as he stood in front of her.

"Are you okay?" He asked again.

This time she shook her head. The music started to play, Kyra and Barbra Jean's cue to walk out. But they were standing around Reba at the moment, unable to move until they knew what the problem was.

"Is she sick?" J.V. asked. "Darlin', did you eat something bad?"

Brock knelt down in front of her. "What's wrong?"

Tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head. "I can't-" She said before she let the tears fall. Her voice was shaking and she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before everyone realized she was still inside instead of outside where she was supposed to be.

"You can't what?" Brock asked.

"Can't get married," She whispered.

She knew she shouldn't have waited until sixty seconds before she was supposed to walk down the aisle, but she guessed that's what it took for her to realize she was making the wrong decision.

As the wedding march began, her tears came faster.

"Mom," Cheyenne said, kneeling down beside her father. "What's wrong?"

"It's complicated..." Brock said, trying not to reveal too much information.

"I can't marry him," Reba told her daughter, trying to hold back the tears and the ache in her throat. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"It's okay," Cheyenne told her. "Why can't you marry him?"

"Reba?"

Everybody looked up to see Rhett coming in through the French doors.

"Reba, what's wrong? You're supposed to be walking down the aisle about this time." He chuckled before stopping. "Honey, are you crying?"

Brock sighed and stood up, moving out of the way to let Rhett walk to her. Cheyenne stepped back as well as Rhett grabbed her hands, kneeling down like Brock had just done.

"Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm scared," She said, her bottom lip quivering. She hated herself for crying in front of everybody, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"Baby, there's no reason to be scared." He leaned forward and hugged her, grasping her shoulders before kissing her forehead. "Just come on out. We can walk out together if you want."

She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Baby, what are you sorry for?" He tucked a curl behind her ear and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "What's the matter?"

"I can't marry you, Rhett. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I can't do it. I'm sorry."

"Baby, what are you saying?"

"I don't love you."


She didn't know why she thought he would take it well. She was the love of his life. If it were happening to her, she'd be crushed. She just wished it hadn't ended in him packing his belongings and leaving without her explaining herself further.

The day after the called off wedding, the day that was supposed to be set aside for the honeymoon, she was off from work. She sat in front of the television most of the day, not really feeling like getting up and doing anything. Having Rhett gone was supposed to make things better, but just like she knew it would, she felt alone.

That's when Brock stopped by.

"Hey," He said quietly, coming in the front door. He saw Reba on the couch, still in her pajamas at four in the afternoon. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged, not offering an explanation.

"I thought you'd be happy." He sat down beside her. "He's finally gone. You got what you wanted."

Reba turned her head towards him. "It's not what I wanted. It's what you wanted."

"It's what you needed."

"To feel alone? Rhett was going to take care of that. I was supposed to walk down the aisle and marry him yesterday, no problem. But you went and put ideas in my head and made me stop and think. I wasn't supposed to stop and think, Brock! I was just supposed to go!"

"You'll thank me one day."

"Yeah, well, that day isn't today, so why don't you just leave."

"You want me to leave?"

"Yes. And this whole thing we've got going on? That ends now."

"Reba-"

"Don't." She looked him in the eye. "I've had to listen to you tell me what you think is best for months and I'm sick of it. I can make my own decisions. I'm not a little girl."

Brock stood from the couch, going to the door. But before he left, he turned to her and said, "Just remember what I told you. Please?"

"Leave. Now." She pointed at the door and waited for him to walk out of it. When he did, she curled up in a little ball and let the tears come.