She sat at her kitchen table, staring into space as her supper got cold. The kids had already eaten and were in their bedrooms; Kyra was writing music and Jake was likely talking to a girl he liked on the phone. Everything around her was normal, but she felt numb. Her life felt empty and barren, simply because she was friendless at the moment.

Brock had called her the night before to tell her that his wife agreed not to tell anyone, including their children, about their affair. She was so thankful for that, even though it hurt her to think it had ever come to such a situation. Cheyenne entered the kitchen, breaking her thoughts as she sat next to her at the table.

"Mom, Van said you missed your open house this afternoon." Her eyes widened, and she stood to find her planner on the counter, flipping through pages.

"Shit. I thought it was next week." She tossed the planner to the other side of the counter and sighed, covering her face with her hands before sitting in one of the tall island chairs.

"Don't worry, he covered for you."

"He's such a good kid. Tell him thank you for me."

"Why don't you tell him yourself? You'll see him tomorrow at work right?"

"I guess." She blinked heavily, feeling how sleep-deprived she was. She just couldn't sleep knowing that she had caused somebody else's life to crumble.

"I think you need to go to the doctor." She gave her a look of annoyance, but didn't speak as her daughter continued. "You're losing weight, you're paler than usual, I've seen you cry more in the past few weeks than I have my whole life, and you obviously aren't sleeping. Not to mention you've been swearing like a sailor lately. Maybe you need some help."

"You mean like antidepressants?"

"Yes. I want my mom back." Reba ran a hand through her hair, wishing she could go back to whom she used to be too, but there were so many reasons why she had to take a break from that woman. That woman would slap the one she had become.

"She knows, Cheyenne."

"Barbra Jean?"

"Yes. He had taken pictures of me on his phone, and she found them." Cheyenne stood and immediately enveloped her mother in a hug, holding her close for comfort that she obviously needed. "She agreed not to tell anyone, but I feel so terrible about this."

"Have you talked to her since?" She pulled away and met her mother's eyes, concern showing through.

"No, I've only talked to your dad, last night. All of this happened yesterday."

"Well, you shouldn't be alone right now. Why didn't you call me?"

"I don't need an 'I told you so.'"

"I wouldn't say that, Mom. And, I'm going to spend the night with you." She shook her head, looking down at her hands which she realized were shaking.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

xxxxxxxxxx

Brock looked at his wife, sitting at the opposite end of the couch as they watched a game show on the television. It was clear that she wasn't at all interested in what was happening on the screen before them, neither was he. They had forgotten how to spend time with one another after so many months apart, and it felt stressful in the room.

"So, how was your day?" She looked at him, as if she knew he really didn't care.

"I found us a marriage counselor, and I bought milk." He chuckled, hoping she found her answer at least a little but humorous, but she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Reba would understand why you're laughing, but we both know I can't measure up to her."

"Barbra Jean, that's not fair. Don't you see me here right now, with you? If I wanted to be anywhere else then I would be." That was a lie, and he knew it. He wanted to be with the woman he had called his lover for the past seven months, but he knew that was no longer possible. He felt like a disciplined child, or a puppy being scolded for running away, and he would no longer be let out of his wife's sight.

"Do you even know how much you hurt me?" He was silent, unsure of what to say. She was going to open up to him about their problems, he thought, but he wasn't prepared. "You are the only man I have ever loved, and you ripped my heart out."

"You act like you're better than us."

"How dare you."

"When I was married to Reba, you were the one I was sneaking around with. You've been in her shoes, and I've been here before. I know that's no excuse, but I know what to do differently now, and I want to work on our marriage. I'm so sorry I hurt you, but you have to be willing to work on this too."

"Brock, do you love her?" He felt momentarily crippled, the question being one that he had battled for years.

"Barbra Jean, I love you." It sounded strained, but she gave him a small smile, as if she didn't hear how awkward the words sounded coming from his lips. It was then that he pledged to himself that he was finally going to move on from his affair, and he was determined to make his marriage work. He owed it to his wife, and to his son, but he also owed it to Reba. Perhaps it was time to let her go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Reba looked at herself in the mirror before she went to bed. Her makeup-free face showed her how thin and pale she had become, and she shook her head at how far everything had gone. But it was over, she reminded herself. It was time to move on and forget all about her ex-husband. It was time to stop depending on the feelings he gave her and begin depending on herself for anything she needed.

She took the small, light blue pill the doctor had prescribed to her, the antidepressant he said she definitely needed. Cheyenne was right to make her go to the doctor, she thought. Life was going to be different, and she was going to go back to the woman she really was. It was time to move on.