The next morning I sat at the kitchen counter with my left leg propped up on the other chair, watching Scott make breakfast. He was chopping onion in front of me for my omelet.

"Want any help?" I asked to break the silence between us.

"I think I've got everything pretty well handled. Just relax and enjoy; it'll be done here in a minute." He said not looking up at me. His voice was his soft and sweet tone. It bothers me that he won't look up at me.

"Want me to set the table?" I was intently waiting for him to look up at me.

"You can hardly stand, let alone move. Do you really think that's a good idea?" he asked with a small smile as he turned around to put the onions in the egg bowl. He glanced in my direction for a split second, making my breath catch.

"I want to help." I said putting my palms down on the counter.

"Well I don't know what to tell you Reba, there's not much to do." He said pouring the eggs into the pan. I let out a big sigh.

"I don't like this."

"Like what?" he asked, not turning around. I stared at his back, not wanting to answer him.

"Never mind." He didn't say anything after that. Just cooked the eggs.

"Knock, knock." I looked over to see Brock standing in the doorway.

"Come on in." Scott said, not moving from his spot at the stove.

"I was hoping I could talk Reba for a minute; that okay?" Scott nodded.

"You'll have to help her into the living room, I can't leave the eggs." Scott said looking over his shoulder. At that Brock helped me off my chair and wobbled me into the living room. When we were seated on the couch, he just stared at me. I raised an eyebrow, slightly uncomfortable.

"Is there a reason you felt the need to be alone in a room with me just to stare at me like a creep?" I asked as I crossed my arms. He shook his head with a smile.

"Sorry, just not sure how to start this." I felt my stomach do a flip.

"Start what?" he looked back at me with a sigh.

"Cheyenne wanted me to talk to you." Both of my eyebrows went up. He put his hands up to stop me. "She's worried about you and said you wouldn't talk to her because she's your daughter; she said you would to your best friend." I sighed, realizing he had a point.

"So what is she worried about?" I asked as I leaned back on the couch.

"Well honestly, a lot." He said not meeting my eyes completely. "But she said the way you've been acting towards Scott has really got her concerned." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"So you're coming to me to talk about how I'm acting towards Scott?"

"Yes, actually I am." He said nervously.

"And this is supposed to be okay with me?" I was trying to keep my temper under control.

"You did it for me with Barbra Jean for years. Why is it suddenly weird?" I ran a hand down my face as I let out a sigh. He made sense.

"Fine, what are you going to lecture me about?"

"Well for starters, you beat the crap out of him because he wouldn't leave you alone." He said folding his hands as he gave me a look. I rolled my eyes.

"He pushes. You learned not too didn't you?" he smiled.

"Actually no, because I still do. I just learned how to avoid the violence." I laughed a little at that. "Why would you be okay with hurting him physically? Don't you think the mental damage is enough for both of you without adding onto it for each other all the time?" I let out a sigh.

"I'm not okay with hurting him Brock." I defended. "It just happens before I can stop it." I looked down at my hands waiting for him to say something. When he didn't I kept talking. "Yesterday at therapy was horrible. I said so many hurtful things, trying to hurt him because I was mad. He's hardly looked at me since we left the office." I said quietly.

"He knows you didn't mean it right?" I didn't say anything. "Reba you did tell him none of what you said was true didn't you?" I shook my head.

"I don't know how too, I think he really believes I hate him."

"Do you?" I looked up at him in disgust.

"How could you even think that?"

"Well after some of the things Cheyenne's heard you say to him, even she's starting to believe it." I let out a sigh and though over all the things I've said.

"When I feel like I did yesterday, I really believe I hate him. I feel like I need to hurt him for what he's done to me." I stopped to take a breath. "But then at times like now, I want to take it all back. I shouldn't blame him just because I'm hurt. He didn't do this to me." I said placing my hand over my hollow belly. "I just want to take it all back." I whispered.

"Tell him that. You'd be surprised what letting him in the loop can fix." He said softly. He reached over and squeezed my hand. "Don't make the same mistakes we made Reba. Scott's not like I was, he'll stick it out, but some things just can't be undone." I looked up at him, trying not to cry.

"How do I tell him?" the corner of Brock's mouth turned up in a small smile.

"You already did." I looked at him confused. Brock turned and pointed to the divider behind him where Scott was coming into view. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked at his sad expression.

"I'm sorry." I managed to get out quietly. He disappeared from sight before coming into the living room. Brock stood and Scott took his place on the couch.

"So am I." he started to reach for my hand but pulled back.

"I didn't mean any of that; I don't know how I said it. It's eating me alive that I did say it when-"

"I know, I heard what you said." He said cutting me off. "Answer me this, do you hate me?" he looked at me sadly, expecting the worst. I started to shake my head.

"No, no I don't." he didn't show any relief.

"How do you feel then?" I just looked at him. I couldn't tell him I love him, but I can't not say it either.

"Do you love him?" Brock asked, catching on to my thoughts. I nodded, grateful for the out. "Say it to him." He pushed. I just glared at him. Scott stood, catching on to my reluctance.

"Your omelet's done." He said heading back into the kitchen. I just watched him walk away.

"What the heck was that?" Brock asked in angry shock. I looked over at him with narrowed eyes. "You guys were finally getting to a place we never even knew existed, and you just let him walk away?"

"What was I supposed to do?" I defended.

"I don't know; tell him you love him if you actually do. If you don't, he doesn't know Reba. He deserves too." I ran a hand down my face before resting my face in my hands, my elbows on my knees. "Look Reba," Brock said sitting beside me. "I know this won't be fixed overnight. But you've got something worth saving here; don't let it slip away like everyone in this family if famous for."

"Can we please change the subject?" I said without lifting my head. He didn't say anything for a minute.

"Okay, you'll be happy to know I talked to Barbra Jean for the first time since Henry told me off three weeks after the divorce." I sat up to look at him.

"This is your idea of a better topic to talk about?" he shrugged.

"That was topic number two we needed to go over." I rolled my eyes.

"I've never missed the ability to get up and walk away more than right now." I said as I looked at the front door.

"All joking aside, we really need to talk about this." I let out a heavy sigh as I faced Brock.

"What needs talked about?"

"Barbra Jean is moving back to Houston." My eyes went wide.

"What?"

"Henry misses the family; Cheyenne, Van, Kyra, Elizabeth… you." My eyebrows went up.

"You're sitting here with a straight face, trying to tell me that your son misses me?"

"That's what I'm saying. My son misses you and hates me." He stood and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"You know that's not true." I said quietly.

"Ya know, I'm having a hard time believing that anymore Reba." He shook his head as he paced in front of the coffee table. "My son flat out refused to talk to me today. He won't even come back to Houston until he has too because he knows I'm going to want to see him." He said waving his arms. "I mean, why wouldn't I want to see my son, even if he hates me? Should I just be a bad dad and not care? That's what he wants from me."

"Brock, you know under this whole hatred act that Henry loves you. Kyra did this to me too, remember?" he looked over at me.

"Yeah, but we made her have to see you, Henry isn't being pushed by Barbra Jean." I let out a sigh as I tried to think of a solution to his problem.

"Maybe you should talk to her about it. Set up legal visitation times that he can't get out of. Then he's forced to see you." He just shook his head.

"I just don't know anymore Reba. I'm too old to have to worry about this type stuff. I should be worried about our grandkids, not my twelve year old son hating me." I ran a hand through my hair.

"He's twelve; he's going to hate you. It's one of the many joys of having a preteen." I said as I leaned on my knees. "Did you learn nothing from our three kids?"

"That's different, Cheyenne and Kyra hated you not me, and Jake was just kind of a ditz." I laughed at his referral to our son.

"But you had to break up a lot of the fights between me and the girls, didn't you take anything from that?" he leaned on the chair, crossing his arms.

"No, not really." I rolled my eyes.

"You're doing your job if they hate you. If they don't, you've got a few things to change. The only complication here is Barbra Jean isn't here. He has a way to avoid you." He just stared off into space. "Maybe them moving back to Houston is a good thing. It'll force you two into that magic uncomfortable zone you guys complain about so much." He rolled his eyes, very annoyed by me.

"You're just saying that."

"No Brock, I'm not. You know I don't just say a bunch of stuff just to hear myself bitch," he cracked a smile at that. "I'm not Barbra Jean here Brock. I don't try to BS you."

"I know, I know." He said laughing a little. "Thank you." I smiled back at him.

"No problem." We sat there in the quiet for a little while.

"Your omelet's probably cold." I just looked over at Brock and his stupid little comment.

"I don't care." I shrugged.

"You're not hungry?" I shook my head.

"I'm not hungry very much anymore. Plus I know Scott's in there and I just don't know what to do." I let out a heavy sigh as I rested my head on the back of the couch.

"Be honest with him." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, since that worked so well the first time." I said laying on the sarcasm.

"You weren't honest with him Reba, you were honest with me, then went mute in front of him." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You're a monkeys butt." He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I'm a monkeys butt. But if it'll make you listen, then I'm happy to be." He said sternly. I just crossed my arms. "You need him in your life, end of story. Talk to him, if you're scared to tell him you love him, then tell him that. He needs to know. It's not fun being on the other end of a situation like this. It'll kill him." I closed my eyes. "Have you two shown any affection besides holding hands and what the therapist suggested?"

"No. when he thinks I'm asleep he opens up to me and tells me he loves me. The other night he gave me a kiss when he thought I wouldn't notice. But besides that no." he shook his head with a sigh.

"You haven't kissed your fiancée?" I rolled my eyes.

"No."

"There's the problem. Just give him a big ole kiss, tell him how you feel. It'll make everything easier for the both of you."

"Do you realize how dumb you sound right now?" he laughed.

"Don't I always?"

X xx xxx xx x xx xxx xx x

"Did you take your medication?" Scott asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me.

"Yes."

"Did you drink a bottle of water?" I took a swig of it.

"I'm finishing it up right now." I said looking down at my almost empty bottle. He finished taking his shoes and socks off and scooted onto the bed more, still not looking at me.

"So it's alright if I go to sleep?" he asked before taking his watch off.

"I guess so." I said looking at the closed book on my lap.

"You guess?" he asked as he set his watch on the nightstand.

"I was hoping we could… you know, talk." He stopped and looked over at me.

"You really want to talk?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes I do. If you want too." I said nervously as I looked at my feet.

"If you're not going to hit me, then yes." I nodded. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Us." I said not moving.

"Us?" I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." I didn't say anything for a minute, trying to gain my composure. "You know I don't mean most of what I say right?" I asked looking over at him, trying not to cry.

"I know."

"And you know how I-" I took a deep breath. "How I feel right?"

"Anymore, no. No I don't." he said quietly. I waited for what seemed like years before finally having the courage to tell him.

"I… love you Scott." I said nervously. He was quiet.

"Are you saying that because you mean it; or because you know it's what I need to hear?" I looked over at him to see his guard was up. He was scared to death I was going to hurt him. I blinked back tears.

"I mean it. I just don't understand why this is so hard." I said as a few tears snuck out.

"Oh honey." He said scooting onto the bed more and pulling me close to him. "I'm so sorry you feel this way." He said into my hair as I buried my face in his chest to hide my soft sobs.

"I do love you Scott, I'm just so afraid of losing you." he pulled me closer to him.

"I love you too Reba, but I'm not going anywhere, I never will. I'm always going to stay right here." After a while of him comforting me, I just laid in his comforting embrace.

I sat up a little to look at him. He looked right back at me with a comforting smile on his lips. I placed my hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"Reba honey." He said trying to stop what I was doing. I ignored him and brought our lips together very softly. I forgot what this feeling was, it was wonderful. He held back at first, but after a minute of me ignoring his resistance, he let it happen. It went a little deeper as he pulled me closer to him. Our lips still weren't as together as a normal kiss would've been, but for the moment, it was perfect.

He cupped my face with one hand and brought our lips together completely. His tongue brushed against my lips, asking for entrance. I didn't deny him as his tongue moved into my mouth gently. I tried moving closer to him but my cast got in the way. I let out a little gasp of pain as our lips broke apart.

"Are you alright?" he asked looking at me with worry sketched in his eyes.

"My cast twisted. I'm fine." I said as I fixed my leg. I looked back at him as his thumb rubbed my cheek softly.

"But are you alright?" he asked referring to my mental state. I looked away from his eyes as I nodded.

"I think so." I rested my head on his chest.

"Tell me if that changes okay?" he said as he wrapped his arms around me. I nodded.

"I will."