Catho--the only Marx Sister (breespearls) wrote in bree_rex,
Catho--the only Marx Sister

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Return to Me: Chapter 06--"Try Not to Remember" (Part 02 of 02)

Title: Return to Me
Chapter: 06–Try Not to Remember (Part 02 of 02)
Rating: PG-13 for adult language and situations, mild sexual content
Author’s Notes: Chapter’s title is taken from the title of Sheryl Crow’s song of the same name.

As always, thank you for reading. I’m glad you’re in this for the long haul! :) If you have any questions or comments, just leave them in the appropriate areas and I’ll try my best to get back with you.

Continued from the last post...

You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet only seventeen, Dancing Queen
feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah, you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen...

“Need me to teach you to dance?” Danielle offered as she snickered at her mother’s obvious uneasiness at vandalizing her own furniture.

“Danielle, it’s not like I’ve never danced before in my life.”

As Bree eased up and began moving to the beat of the music, slowly at first then catching up with the rhythm, it was as though she was that carefree twenty-year old again. Throwing her inhibitions aside, she transformed into a different person, of course anyone would be a different person two feet in the air. As long as she didn’t look down, she was all right and kept her balance. Her hips swayed back and forth, her hair bounced with her every movement and her arms and hands were in the air. For a while, she stepped back from the crazy world around her to steal unassumingly into her own hushed corner of the universe in which she unwittingly shed her uptight, matronly shell and unleashed the exuberant girl with the coy grin that at one time inhabited her body.

You're a teaser, you turn 'em on, leave 'em burning and then you're gone, looking out for another, anyone will do, you're in the mood for a dance, and when you get the chance...

While it was difficult for Danielle to acknowledge her mother’s good points, she conceded that she was impressed with her mother’s dancing abilities; it made no difference that they were so visibly retro.

The girls danced to their hearts’ content unaware they were being watched by a figure that had slipped into the house unnoticed. He had heard the booming music as he traveled up the walkway to the front door and when he entered the house, he enclosed his hands over his ears to protect them from the beating the pounding bass delivered to them. Nothing quite prepared him for what he would find as he made his way into the living room. There he stood, completely and utterly baffled at seeing the usually restrained housewife and mother of two dancing on top of a table. As confused as he was, he was also very amused by it all and was content to watch this hypnotizing sight all night long if Bree hadn’t seen him first and screamed in fright. Danielle jumped down and went to lower the volume on the stereo.

“Rex Van De Kamp, you should learn to knock!” she snapped, out of breath from her recent exertion. A rosy blush started in her cheeks and spread down to her neck and chest. It didn’t take a genius to know that Bree was highly embarrassed.

“I did. I knocked several times, actually, and I rang the door bell, too. I even announced myself when I walked in the door, but I suppose you were too busy to hear me,” he arched his eyebrow suggestively at the stereo. Bree’s blush deepened, so much so that she could swear she felt it being branded into her skin. She wanted to disappear, or at least get off the table. She primed herself to take a step down and Rex proffered a hand to help her, however she disregarded it.

“Are you girls having some kind of, uh, party?”

“We were cleaning,” Bree asserted obstinately, causing Rex to burst out laughing.

“Come on, Bree, I’ve never seen you clean like that before!”

“Rex, just shut up.” Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but give the table a quick look-see to check for abrasions and scuff marks. From what she could tell, there wasn’t anything there that a good coating or two of wood polish couldn’t fix.

“Well, Danielle, are you ready to go? I have a surprise...” Rex said once his laughter subsided.

“What is it??” Danielle asked excitedly.

Bree wanted to know what the surprise was, too, but only because she didn’t want Rex trying to buy his daughter’s affections like the last time they’d separated.

“Go look out the window.”

Running over to the window, Danielle threw back the curtains and gushed. “Daddy, you bought a Porsche?? Oh my God! No one owns a Porsche in Fairview! That is so cool!”

“You bought a Porsche?” Bree echoed. Her tone of voice was an Arctic wind, freezing everything in its path, leaving behind a thick carapace of unassailable, unyielding ice.

“Yeah, so?” shrugged Rex. “I let you keep the cars in the divorce. You didn’t expect me to walk everywhere, did you?”

Joining Danielle at the window, she happened to see that someone was in the Porsche.

“Did she come with the car??” Bree motioned acerbically at Rex’s passenger.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s Amber Bailey. I’ve been seeing her for a while and I wanted to introduce her to Danielle tonight at dinner.”

“Amber Bailey?! That little trollop who’s been throwing herself at you since she was eighteen years old?? Rex, she’s half your age!” screeched Bree in disbelief, her anger mounting by the second.

“So? She’s half your age, too. We’re divorced or didn’t you get the divorce papers in the mail today? I’m a free man, Bree, I can date anyone I want to! This time around, I think I’d prefer a woman that can feel, one who’s not so preoccupied with being a poster child for Stepford that she’s afraid to orgasm during sex because it might let someone know she actually enjoyed it! I’d like a woman who can burn toast and drinks milk out of the carton and doesn’t mind it if there’s a speck of dust in the house, or a stray shirt laying on the floor. Hell, I wouldn’t mind if she had a little dirt under her fingernails, just so long as she’s not you!” Rex raised his voice as Bree closed the distance between them to stare him in the face.

Choking back tears of humiliation, she spat bitterly through clenched teeth, “If you want to make a fool of yourself by being seen around town with a twenty-seven year old tart that has been married and divorced three times, be my guest, but I would like to think that you’d keep our daughter in mind before choosing your sleeping partners!”

“Speaking of tarts, have you seen Orson Hodge lately? You know, just last night I was wondering just how many romantic interludes have taken place in the kitchen because quite frankly, it disgusts me to think I’ve eaten off the counter top when it has no doubt hosted numerous questionable activities...” When Rex smirked, it sent Bree over the edge into a state of total fury. Her whole body shook with venomous hate and she wished she could rip him to pieces.

“Get out of my house!” she screamed and pointed a shaking finger toward the door. Bree wanted him as far from her as possible. The pulsating vein that lay in the middle of her forehead was in immediate danger of popping clear out of her head she was so mad.

“Gladly,” Rex muttered just loud enough so that his ex-wife could hear him. “Say, how are your psychiatric appointments going?”

That bastard. “Fine,” she retorted. “Seen anymore prostitutes lately?? Other than the one sitting in your car? Do me and your daughter a favor. Try to keep your name out of the little black book this time, ok?”

Both Rex and Bree stalked to the front door, each footstep making a heavy thud. She opened the door and Rex was about to walk through it when he realized he was forgetting one very important thing.

“Where’s Danielle?” he asked nonplussed.

“I’m here,” she answered. She’d fled upstairs to escape her parents’ argument and to get the backpack she packed for the weekend.

“Come on, honey,” Rex led her to the door, his hand on her back. “You get to pick the restaurant. Amber’s excited about meeting you.”

“I already know her,” Danielle said. “She came to Prom last year with my friend Jason. He was the reason her second marriage broke up.”

It was Bree’s turn to smirk.

“Are you going to be ok?” Danielle asked her mother, concerned that her parents’ fight would cause her to relapse. Coming home to find Bree in the same shape as last time wasn’t appealing in the least.

“Sweetie, I’m going to be perfectly fine. You know why? Because I have Sunday to look forward to,” she smiled and hugged her daughter tightly, wishing that Danielle wasn’t on her way out the door for two whole days. It wasn’t because she didn’t want her to go with Rex and his “date”, she just didn’t want her to leave period.

Bree watched Danielle and Rex get into his new Porsche and before driving off, the son-of-a-bitch actually smiled at her and waved. It infuriated her further when she saw that in the heat of moment she’d failed to remember to have Rex take his boxes. It was very, very tempting to get a voodoo doll and stick pins in it while she arranged the contents of the boxes in a pile and watched them smolder and burn. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d have to replace the grass that would unavoidably be damaged by the fire, she would’ve seriously considered it.

Well, she was alone again. And once again she found herself yearning for a drink of wine. Over the last three months, it wasn’t uncommon for Bree to find herself hankering for a taste of what had been forbidden to her, mostly during trying moments from which she got no reprieve otherwise. It had been a stressful day, didn’t she deserve something to help her ease her mind? It would only be one small goblet of wine. She could taste it in her mouth now, it’s bittersweet liquid quenching her thirst... But she couldn’t do it. If not for herself, then she had to fight the temptation for her children. What if she passed out and Danielle once again found her? No, she had to resist the malicious enticement of an escape that was too costly.

But what could she do to take her mind off drinking? Looking around there really wasn’t anything to do. She was caught up on her chores. It was too dark too work out in her garden. Desperation had begun to settle in when the phone rang. To her relief, it was Lynette who needed Bree to babysit for all five kids. Bree was only too happy to accept and was eager to get out of the house for an evening.

When she returned home approximately four hours later, she was so exhausted that she went straight to bed. Taking care of five kids was almost unbearable, but because she was Bree Van De Kamp, she had managed rather nicely. She’d kept them busy with some craft projects and she’d made cookies for them and then they all sat in front of the television to watch a movie. Of course, it wasn’t as easy as that. First of all, they couldn’t decide on which movie to watch. Kayla wanted to watch a Barbie movie and the twins thought they should watch some martial arts movie that looked to be too mature for eight-year old boys. Parker decided that they should watch a Disney movie and Penny screamed for the attention that her siblings were taking away from her. The movie that Bree ultimately chose was “Mary Poppins” which was met with a fair amount of resistance from the kids, but when she threatened them with either being quiet and watching the movie or going to bed, the kids chose to watch the movie. She’d just gotten them to go to sleep when Tom and Lynette returned home.

As she dressed for bed, she thought about her own children and how she would love to be tucking them in right about now. Andrew had been gone for four months now and even though Danielle had only been gone since seven-thirty that evening, she missed her just as much as she did Andrew. They were eighteen and seventeen years old, but she still thought of them as her babies. Where had the time gone? Just yesterday she was reading them bedtime stories and teaching them their ABCs and feeding and bathing them. How she longed to return to those simpler, more joyous days!

Sleep came to swallow her consciousness as soon as her head found the comfort of a pillow. The dreams that accompanied her sleep were unmemorable and harmless and she remained, for the most part, undisturbed in her slumber until she was awoken about one in the morning by the creaky floorboard in her room. Unexpectedly yanked from the clutches of rest, Bree’s eyes flew open to see who had breached her solitude.

“Mom... are you awake?” a soft voice whispered, delicately cutting a path through the thick darkness.

Alarmed, Bree raised up, squinting from the light that sneaked in from the hallway and fell upon her face. Groggily, she asked, “Danielle?? Is there something wrong?”

“No, I, um, just wanted to tell you that I’m home.”

Not knowing whether it was drowsiness or the inscrutable language her daughter used that was causing her befuddlement, she questioned further. “Why aren’t you at your dad’s?”

The voice with which Danielle employed to answer her mother was one that Bree didn’t care for. It was sarcastic and defensive, however it let Bree know that something was wrong, something Danielle wasn’t telling her in so many words. “I guess I just didn’t want to stay there this weekend. Is that ok with you?? Because if you don’t want me here then I can find somewhere else to go!” Without allowing her mother a word in edgewise, Danielle turned and ran impetuously out of the room. Bree flinched when she heard her daughter’s door slam. Immediately, she jumped out of bed, grabbed her bathrobe and trailed to the door next to her own and knocked upon it.

“Danielle,” she called gently. No answer. Previous efforts at extracting Danielle from her room when she’d slammed the door, refusing to answer her parents had proven to be futile, but just to make sure, Bree placed her hand on the doorknob and twisted it. Either Danielle had neglected to lock her door or she hadn’t meant to lock it because to Bree’s surprise, she was able to open the door to see Danielle lying in bed on her stomach.


“Go away.”

Bree sat down beside Danielle. “Honey, I don’t know what happened tonight, but I don’t think I deserve to be talked to in such a manner.”


“You can talk to me.”

Danielle still refrained from speaking and a fed up Bree started for the door. Then all at once, Danielle began purging her heart of the things that had caused her to get so upset.

“I wish–I wish that I didn’t have to worry about you every time I left the house.”

Stopping in her tracks, Bree did an about-face, her expression terribly pained. “Danielle, there’s no need...”

“If you could’ve seen yourself tonight... I saw your face. You were so angry, but you were more hurt than anything. The way you looked at Dad when he said those things to you...”

“It’s our fault for fighting in front of you, but I assure you, there’s absolutely no reason to concern yourself over me. I’m an adult and I can fend for myself, most of all against your father.”

“Yeah,” Danielle said dryly. “Like the night I came home and found you passed out drunk.”

“We’ve been over this,” Bree sighed, weary of this particular topic of conversation. “I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since that night. I won’t do that to you again, you have to trust me.

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

The teenager turned her gaze away from that of her mother’s. “A little bit. That and I really didn’t want to spend the whole evening with Dad and his new girlfriend. Ugh.”

“Your father does have a right to see whomever he wants, Danielle. As hard as it may be, try to cut him a little slack.”

“But, Mom, you saw who it was! Amber Bailey! You said so yourself, she’s a slut!” Danielle couldn’t believe her mother was actually taking up for her father and that tramp. It was quite a departure from the Bree Van De Kamp that had no qualms about openly displaying her dismay a few hours before. What had happened to the judgmental mother she used to have?

“I know what I said, but I had no right to say them. As your father said, we’re divorced and who he chooses to spend his time with is none of my business.”

“Yeah, well, he can spend time with her, but that doesn’t mean I have to. I don’t like her and I’m not going to spend every minute of my time that’s suppose to be with Dad with Amber, too!”

“You dad’s probably going through a rough time right now, like I am. Don’t hurt him anymore by refusing to see him, Danielle. He loves you so much. Have patience with him.”

Vociferating her disbelief, Danielle exclaimed, “How can you take his side after all the horrible things he said to you tonight?!”

Deep inside herself, she tapped into the peace that had ultimately replaced the tumultuousness kindled from her and Rex’s earlier exchange. It was unclear why she couldn’t stay mad at her ex-husband, but there was a part of her that extended to him a breath of compassion and understanding. When the thought of him entered her mind, she could only remember the good times they had and the pleasant feelings she associated with them. The longer they were separated, the more difficulty she had recalling the unhappy memories her marriage had produced. Thus, any long-standing ill-will she harbored incurred by past deeds evaporated.

“People sometimes say terrible things that they don’t mean because they’re angry or hurt. Your father and I both said some not-so-nice things to each other tonight, but I honestly didn’t mean them and I don’t believe he did, either. You’ve said some dreadful stuff, too, when you’ve been mad. I’d hate to think that you meant every single thing you’ve ever yelled at me.” This caused Danielle’s cheeks to redden.

Absentmindedly, she played with a stray piece of string on her comforter, twirling it around her finger as she spoke apologetically. “I yelled at Dad tonight. I was so mad at him for bringing Amber along and for talking to you the way he did. Plus, I think I was so worried about leaving you here by yourself.”

“You know what?” Danielle shook her head. “It’s one-thirty, but I’m sure your dad’s still up. Why don’t you give him a call?”

“And say what??”

“Just talk to him, Danielle. About anything: school, boys, work... I’m sure he’ll be more than happy just to hear from you.”

“I don’t know...”

“If you don’t feel like having a conversation, at least call just to tell him good-night. A few words are better than none at all.”

“Ok... I’ll try, but I can’t promise that we won’t start fighting again.”

“Please try to be on your best behavior, Miss Van De Kamp,” admonished Bree genially as she planted a kiss on the top of her daughter’s head. To give Danielle privacy, Bree exited the bedroom and closed the door behind her. As she trekked from one room to the other, she heard Danielle say, “Hello, Daddy.” The trepidation that had borne Danielle’s first words soon mellowed and was replaced with the familiar affection that constituted the foundation of their relationship. From the first time Rex had held his only daughter in his arms, he’d looked upon her with pride and unrivaled, consuming love and Bree knew that Rex felt as she did, as though there was an unseen connection between parent and child that was infinite and unconditional. She didn’t want Danielle to mistreat her father’s love for her out of temporary pettiness that would mean nothing in a few days. In spite of Bree and Rex’s feelings for each other, when it came to the children, their differences didn’t matter so much. Bree often pondered how Rex got through one year without his children, knowing how he felt about them. She wondered how much pain he suffered being away from them so long, knowing they thought him dead and gone from their lives forever, all due to George Williams’s psychopathic obsession with her. Her heart went out to Rex for the year of his children’s lives that he missed, that he had to hear about from afar, unable to intervene. Gradually, she came to realize that Rex had just as much right to be as hurt, resentful and enraged as she had been (and still was to a certain extent). They’d both lost so much in that short amount of time.

Returning to the warmth of her bed, she waited for her daughter to finish the conversation with her dad. Knowing Rex, he would be elated to hear from Danielle, especially if the night had went as badly as Danielle had described. One indisputable thing that could be said about her husband was that he loved his children immensely and to think that he’d lost their esteem would devastate him. She understood that Danielle hadn’t welcomed the unexpected intrusion into her time with her father, but she certainly didn’t condone Danielle’s propensity to acquire a disrespectful attitude when confronted with something she didn’t like. Her daughter would have to learn to deal with life’s lemons in a gracious and mature fashion.

The phone call went on well into the night and soon, Bree found herself straddling the shore of unconsciousness, waking briefly and periodically only to hear the muffled sounds of Danielle still chatting with her father. The last time Bree awoke, she heard laughter emanating from her daughter’s room. The thought of Rex and Danielle healing their differences caused Bree to smile serenely as she drifted off to sleep for the rest of the night, not waking up again until sun poked its golden beams over the horizon to light up the morning sky.

The next morning, Bree had just finished clasping her skirt and buttoning her blouse when she heard someone knock at her front door. Whomever it was plainly lacked etiquette as it was considerably rude to call on someone at eight o’clock in the morning. Couldn’t they have waited one more hour until nine? Rushing down the stairs at the behest of her unknown visitor, she was interested to see who was paying her a visit so early on Saturday. Briefly looking in the mirror before answering the door, she checked for any out-of-place hair or stray lipstick. Once she decided she was presentable, she opened the front door and received quite a shock.

“Rex? You–you look horrific!” Taken aback by his appearance, her expression soured. He stood on her doorstep wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old sweat shirt. Bree was sure he hadn’t shaved since yesterday as the stubble on his face and neck was very noticeable, as were the dark circles under his eyes.

“Thanks, Bree,” he remarked sarcastically.

“What are you doing here?” She hoped it wasn’t so he could finish their argument because all she wanted to do was forget about it. The denigrating words he’d said to her on top of the mean accusations he’d thrown at her the night he packed up and left still drew tears to her eyes.

Running a hand through his hair, which hadn’t been combed, he plucked up his courage and simply, yet sincerely said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I know it was you who talked to Danielle. She was so mad when I dropped her off last night, I didn’t think she’d ever speak to me again,” he confessed.

“Don’t be silly, Rex. Danielle’s just a teenager. They go through moods like that every now and then. One day they may chat your ear off, the next they’re sullen and don’t want to be anywhere near you. Believe me, I know,” she chuckled, but ceased when she saw the seriousness in Rex’s face.

“I want you to know that I’m grateful for what you did and I want you to know, too, that, um, well, I’m sorry. I was out of line and I regret everything I said. I guess I’m still angry at you... I don’t know...”

An awkward silence passed through the both of them. Bree was left speechless at Rex’s heartfelt admission. “You know what? There’s a pot of hot coffee waiting in the kitchen. Why don’t you come in and have a cup?”

“I’d like that.”

Observing her ex as she poured coffee in his mug, she noticed he looked deplorable and downtrodden... and very tired. Something was going on inside him, something she wasn’t privy to, but she could see his mind working, knowing he didn’t come here just to say “thank you”.

“Since there probably aren’t going to be many more occasions that we’ll find ourselves sitting in this kitchen alone drinking coffee together, can I ask you something that I’ve been dying to get off my chest?”

Nodding, Bree took a sip of coffee, her eyes never leaving her hus–ex-husband.

“Why did you divorce me?” For three months he’d gone around like a lost puppy looking for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask. Blindly, he let his wife divorce him and he’d been silently compliant through the whole emotional and legal processes, mostly due to his shock and sadness. He hadn’t been warned of the divorce and everything happened so fast there hadn’t been any closure or time to mourn the loss of his wife. Rex was left feeling broken, not knowing how to fix himself. His heart still ached for Bree every day. If asked, he would be the first to admit that Amber Bailey was just a transparent distraction. No one would ever compare to Bree.

Tilting her head to one side, she facially and vocally expressed her remorse. “The marriage was beyond being saved. I couldn’t do it anymore, Rex. My trust in you was destroyed when you betrayed me. My world revolved around you and when you went away, I fell to pieces and no matter how much we tried to patch things up, it just didn’t work.

“But you know what? I finally realized something last night that had never occurred to me before. When I thought about how it must’ve hurt when Danielle shouted at you and demanded to come home, I remembered the way you held our babies for the first time after they were born. How you smiled and cried when you saw them.” Choking up, tears flooded to her eyes, but didn’t dare spill over onto her cheeks. “And I knew how it must’ve killed you each and every day you were away from them, all because I got involved with a lunatic...”

“Bree...” Rex tried to interject, but Bree wouldn’t let him interrupt her.

“When I think of how much you lost that year you were gone, a year you can’t get back because of something I did, I don’t see how you could ever forgive me!” she cried, unresolved feelings breaking out of their own hell desperately seeking absolution that would grant them some kind of eternal peace. “To answer your question, ‘we’ will never work because there’s not enough forgiveness in the world to erase all the wrongs we’ve committed against each other. We can’t just forget and we can’t just put everything in the past and go on like nothing ever happened! How many times do we have to put each other through hell?? I don’t want to feel like this, like I did last night, any more.”

“Bree!” Rex tried to reach through the impregnable walls his wife had erected, that echoed the hateful ideas that littered their conversation, in an attempt to shake some sense back into her. When his efforts were proven futile, he burst out of his seat, forcefully grabbed both sides of her face with his hands and crashed his lips into hers. Struggling to escape the firm grip he had on her, she refused to meld into his touch. Only yesterday had she begun to get used to the idea of being divorced; Rex couldn’t play with her emotions like this, it was cruel. Her heart was still fragile as glass when it came to him and he was throwing it around like some inexpensive rubber ball, expecting it to bounce back to him. Breaking apart, but only the tiniest bit, to gasp for the air that had been denied to their lungs, Bree whispered against his mouth, “Rex, let me go...”

“Never,” he answered raggedly before reclaiming her mouth with his, but she just couldn’t return the kiss, not because didn’t want to, but because she did.

Standing up, she moved out of Rex’s reach when all she really wanted was to pull him close. Terrible agony shone upon her face as tears beaded the corners of her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand the reasons why she had to let him go? Did he know how much he was hurting her? The love she had for him was tearing her apart. The affliction she’d carried with her since the first night he walked back into her life divided her soul into two mangled pieces that refused to heal. There was no cure for a broken heart. Time had proven itself a band aid that fell off when submerged in water.

“I’m sorry.” The emotional dam that held back the feelings she fought so hard to hide and tuck neatly away into the nether regions of her mind had sprung a leak. Tears began flowing in a steady stream down her cheeks, splashing onto her blouse. Each droplet carried with it a slice of Bree’s broken heart.

“Why? Just tell me why.” Rex was a man with one finger on the ledge, staring down into the blackened abyss which would soon claim him. Knowing the end was coming, that one finger kept him alive yet warned him of his nearing demise. Somehow, Rex knew the answer to his own question, but until he heard the words leave Bree’s mouth, hope of a reconciliation remained, no matter how poor the chances were. It was now Bree’s decision whether to wrench that one finger from the ledge or to lend him a hand and help pull him to safety. He waited with bated breath, preparing to be cast down the endless chasm that had no light at its end.

It didn’t matter how much she searched her soul for a response to Rex’s question, nothing she thought of saying sounded plausible enough to reasonably and adequately satisfy his desire for an answer. In the silence of the kitchen, Bree wept soundlessly, not knowing what to do. Her face contorted with the torment brought about by the unlikely places to which life had led them. Unfortunate choices with unforeseeable consequences had seeped havoc into the lives of its victims, making it seem impossible to ever make another correct decision. Bree was so certain that Rex and she should forge paths in life separately from each other, but then she hadn’t anticipated this moment. She longed for the comfort he could give her right now and for a while, she wanted to stop being the strong, cold woman many perceived her to be and seek refuge in his arms. To feel her skin being lavished with protective kisses and caresses as he reassured her that everything was going to be all right was how she wanted to end the present distressing ordeal. Why couldn’t there be a happy ending?

There’s still a chance for a happy ending if you’re willing to act on impulse and grab it, a voice from within reached out to her in urgency. A couple of feet stood between her and Rex. Expectantly, he watched her, waiting for an answer he was sure he wouldn’t like. The ball was in her court; she had the power to forgive and forget or to say adieu, but either way, there would be issues they’d have to work through. Would love be enough to help them through troubled times? It hadn’t been enough before, why should it be any different now? Divorce had been going extremely well until she was confronted with Rex. As long as she didn’t have to see him or think of him, she was fine and able to cope, but the very thought of him turned her upside-down and transformed her into a nervous wreck.

When she didn’t speak, Rex assumed he knew what that meant and took it as a cue to leave.

“I suppose it really is over then. I want you to know that I’m not angry with you, I could never be angry with you. I’ll love you until I die, Bree.” With that, he turned to walk out of her house, and her life, for good.

Those words shook her core and the voice inside her, the voice that sounded eerily like her own, screamed, Go after him! Uncharacteristic of the Bree that, in her latter years, lived in a world of black-and-white cut-throat precision when it came to life, this Bree abandoned all caution and sensibility and followed her heart, that wonderful thing that knew what she needed even when her brain told her otherwise. New hope sprang forward and a zealousness that she hadn’t felt in over a year consumed her wholly.

She followed Rex’s footsteps, intent on bringing him back to her, but just as she got halfway to the door, the phone began to ring.

“Damn!” she cursed. She didn’t want Rex to drive off, but she didn’t want to let the phone ring, either. It was so impolite. Though she fought the urge to answer the phone all the way to her front door, the ringing irritated her to the point that it gave her a headache. If she just picked it up, quickly told whomever it was to call back, she’d feel better. But she had to hurry.

“Hello?” However, once she spoke with the person on the other end, a new sense of urgency replaced that generated by her own needs. It was more important now than before that she get to Rex. Through the window, she saw, thankfully, he was still outside.

“Rex!” she cried clamantly, running towards his car in her coat with her purse in hand.

“What??” he inquired with utmost concern. He’d been trying to put the top up on his car because the morning chill was getting to be a bit too much when Bree came running from the house. There was a mixture of fear, impatience and apprehension in her features. What he imagined would be Bree running to him with forgiveness and an invitation to come back home turned out to be something altogether unexpected.

“It’s Andrew, Rex! He’s in the hospital here in Fairview. Please, we’ve got to go to him!”

Not another thought was given to their own problems as Bree and Rex got into his car and sped away. Knowing their son was a mere few miles away injected the worried parents with indescribable joy. To have both her children back under her roof was a dream come true for Bree. She wondered if Andrew could ever forgive her for failing him so miserably. Shortly, she would find out.
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