In Therapy.
Chapter 1.
"Reba?" Brock didn't even bother knocking as he walked through the front door of Reba's house. Lately, he'd been spending a lot of time in Reba's house –actually, their old house,- again. Sometimes, Reba yelled at him for being a moron that came over to often, other times, she just made sarcastic comments about everything he said, and sometimes, she just laughed and talked to him. He loved her no matter how she responded.
In the back of his head, Brock always regretted leaving Reba. At the time, leaving Reba had seem the best thing to do. The two of them had been in fights constantly, stopped making love, stopped having the fun they used to have. They 'd become roommates. Roommates that weren't too fond of each other. Barbara Jean being pregnant had then seemed to be a sign that the marriage of him and Reba was completely and officially over. When he was honest with himself, he knew that regret came even before Henry'd been born. He didn't dare talking to anyone about that though; he'd ripped his family apart before, and knew he shouldn't do that again. He didn't want to hurt the kids, nor Reba.
"Brock? What are you doing here so early?" Reba came walking down the stairs, her hair in a ponytail and wearing shorts and a top. She was probably gonna go and have a run. "Sorry… I just figured you'd be up too at this hour. I didn't have any food at home, forgot to get some groceries. So I was thinking that, maybe I could make so breakfast over here, for you, and me, and the kids?"
Reba wasn't sure about Brock's actual motives. She'd told him just two days ago that Jake would be gone for the weekend and that Kyra wouldn't be coming back from college either. "Don't you remember me telling you the kids were not coming back? I'm alone this weekend."
"Oh shoot, I forgot." Brock tried his hardest to pretend that he was surprised, but Reba could tell he'd known it. She decided not to pay attention to it though. "You know what, I'll go running now. You fix yourself some food. And make me some too, please. I'll be back in forty-five minutes." She pushed Brock aside as she got closer to him to free her way to the door, and took off running before Brock could say a thing.
Brock wasn't sure if that response was a good one or a bad one, but at least she hadn't told him to take his ass out of her house. That was a good beginning, right?
Reba returned exactly forty five minutes later, sweating and slightly out of breath. Brock nevertheless thought she looked beautiful. She sat down as Brock said: "Almost finished! How do you like some French toast, strawberries, a home-made croissant and some fresh orange juice?" Reba chuckled. "Geez, Brock, are you hungry yourself as well or what?"
Brock shrugged. "Maybe. Just wanted to make you enough. You need good food after a run!"
Reba raised an eyebrow about his behavior, but forgot it soon when he placed the plate in front of her. She was hungry, and the food look great. As she grabbed a piece of toast, Brock sat down opposite of her, watching her eat as he slowly started eating himself as well.
Even though she wasn't focusing on Brock, Reba could feel him watching her. "You're staring."
"Sorry." He didn't mean it though. He loved looking at Reba. After eating silence for a bit longer, Brock said: "There is something I want to talk to you about." Reba narrowed her eyes. "So that's why you made me breakfast. You need a favor, don't ya?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just want to talk to you, about Barbara Jean and me."
Reba's face softened. No matter how difficult it was sometimes to hear about Brock and Barbara Jean's marriage or issues, but she cared a lot about both of them and wanted to help them all the time, no matter how hard it sometimes was to hear things. "Oh. What's going on?"
"Well, I don't really know if I should tell you about it, but I just need to talk to someone. You know things have been rough between me and her lately… And, well… We decided to go into therapy."
Reba didn't quite understand the worried look on Brock's face and said: "Well, that's a good thing right?"
Brock sighed. "I don't know."
"You don't know? How do you mean, you don't know, you moron? You want to solve your issues right, I'm positive the two of you can!"
"I know we can. I… I'm just not sure if I want to, Reba." Brock let out a breath after saying that, knowing it would cause Reba to blow up. She did.
Reba almost jumped of her chair, and knocked over half of her glass of orange juice in the process as she said: "What did you just say?"
Brock wanted to start talking, but Reba held up her finger, causing him to stay quiet as she tried to calm herself down a bit. She grabbed a towel and started cleaning up the mess her orange juice had made. Reba didn't look at Brock when she started talking again. "You're saying that you don't want to fight for your marriage anymore? You're kidding, right? You're just making a bad joke."
"Reba, please calm down. I just… I'm not sure about my marriage anymore. I love Barbara Jean, of course I do. But it just feels like we're living together as friends, brother and sister even. Not like a married couple. I'm just wondering if it's really worth fighting for."
Something inside Reba snapped when she heard him say those words. Another marriage he refused to fight for. Another woman he would leave broken and sad. Another six years of people's lives wasted. Reba's entire family had to adapt after Brock had left them for another woman. They'd come to peace with it. And now, he was about to completely ruin the big, somewhat strange yet happy and loving family they had.
"Go away Brock. You're pissing me off right now and I don't want to talk to you anymore."
Brock's eyes widened. "What? I just needed to talk to someone about this, Reba, I don't know what to do!"
"Find someone else to talk to about this Brock, leave. You really want to discuss your not-so-perfect marriage with the apparently not-so-perfect first wife who you left a few years ago? I'm not in the mood for this. I'm going upstairs, and when I get down, you're gonna be gone."
Without any other words, Reba marched out of the room and up the stairs, and within two minutes, he could hear the shower running. Brock had hoped he and Reba could talk about his problems with Barbara Jean. He knew he had taken a chance, considering the fact that Reba loved Barbara Jean as she was her best friend. Yet, he had the feeling it had more to do with their own divorce than Reba's love for her friend. He sighed out loud, and as he placed the dishes in the sink, his memory faded back to the very day he regretted so much. The day he'd cheated on Reba for the first time.
March 2001, Houston, Texas.
"Good morning Brock, happy to see you again." Barbara Jean tried to flash her best smile to her boss as he walked in, who looked tired. He tried to smile at her and nodded, before walking into his dentist practice room. Barbara Jean knew it would take about thirty more minutes for the first client to come in, and decided to take a gamble. Her boss had become more than special to her over the past few weeks. She loved his personality and was more than just attracted to him.
She knew, however, that he was married. She also knew though that he and his wife were going through some serious issues at that moment. Barbara Jean had learned when she was young that stealing another woman's man was the wrong thing to do, but with Brock, she just couldn't resist. She followed him to his room, knocked an sweetly said: "You're looking tired. Again. You'd like a massage? I'm sure it will make you feel a lot better."
Brock didn't even try to say no. Barbara Jean was already behind him. He closed his eyes as soon as her hands touched his neck, gently needed the tight muscles. He could also feel her breasts pressing against his back. Normally, he would've told her that was inappropriate. Normally, he wouldn't even let his assistant give him a massage. But he knew about Barbara Jean's crush on him, and after another huge and hurtful fight with Reba, it felt so nice to be wanted again. "See, I told you you would feel better. Much better."
Instead of thanking Barbara Jean for her massage, Brock stood up from his chair and turned around. "I really appreciate this, Barbara Jean, but…." He was about to tell her she should really get back to her seat when she stepped closer to him, almost touching him completely before she said: "You're welcome." He felt her breath in his face. He didn't even know who made the first move. All he knew was, that the next twenty minutes, revolved around kisses, clothes scattered around the floor and noises he wouldn't ever want anyone else to hear.