Four Walls, One Roof, and a Hollow Floor.
The door latches as she walks through the door. It's eery though, the tambor of the tumblers bounce off all the surfaces and make the home seem alive.
She knew better than that.
The floors are bare, no accent carpet that they used to fight about. The walls are bare, no photographs documenting their family. The entire house is bare, like an abandoned relic. It's just four walls, one roof, and a hollow floor.
If people were to visit like tourists they'd point in awe around Juliette Barnes' house. They'd see the wealth and the glamor that came with being a country superstar. What they wouldn't see is the battle scars scribbled over every wall and ceiling, every countertop and window. They were invisible, of course, to anyone but her.
She expected this, somewhere down the line. It just wasn't like her to get happiness. The perfect career, beautiful daughter, and supportive husband. Letting her hand run down the counters in the kitchen she wondered why she couldn't let herself embrace it. Perhaps it was so foreign that she couldn't handle it all at once?
Whatever the case may be, it wasn't worth trying to figure out now. He was gone, she was gone, they were gone.
All of a sudden, the door opened again. When she saw that familiar black slick hair she wasn't sure if she wanted it to be an apparition or not.
One one hand she missed him. She missed him so much. He was her guitarist, her band leader, her best friend, her boyfriend, the father of her child, and her husband. In that order. They progressed slowly and perfectly, and with each step of their courtship she always felt safe, happy, secure, and ready.
On the other hand, she was embarrassed. The vintage Juliette Barnes way to deal with problems is with a lot of alcohol and even more denial. She couldn't even say his name. He was everything to her and it hurt a hell of a lot less just to forget he ever existed.
So as he stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape, they both wondered if this is how their reunion was supposed to go.
Reunion. The word itself means to unite again. It had been so long since they were truly united.
He coughed a bit and spoke first, "Hey, I just wanted to pick up the chair from her nursery, I'll be out quick."
Like two colleagues.
"Yeah okay." Juliette nodded, "I think it's still in there."
He reemerged seconds later, ugly yellow chair in hand.
"Still as ugly as I remember." She joked.
He looked down and cracked a smile, "It's vintage."
A cloud of silence fell over the abandoned house.
"Hey, I'm...I'm sorry. For everything."
Avery was able to look at her for the first time. He looked so worn, so tired. She hated that she felt comforted in the fact that he was still hurting too.
He shook his head slowly, "It wasn't your fault."
And with that he walked out of the door, clearly never set on returning again. Even though they had never been further apart, Juliette still knew him. She knew that he was too good of a man to call her out, tell her off, and curse her into oblivion. She also knew when it was over with him. Last time, when she ruined things drowned in alcohol with Jeff Fordham, she could still see something in his eyes. He was angry as hell and hurt as hell, but his beautiful eyes were still filled with so much life for them and for what they could be.
When she forced herself into looking into his eyes moments ago, there was nothing. She was sick thinking about how much pain and torture she had put him through to completely vanquish all the hope in his beautiful eyes.
Juliette was left in the silent house again. For a minute in the presence of the one man she ever truly loved, it felt like home again. But he was gone, and even though he graciously absolved her of her wrong doing in the failure of their family, the fresh pain of tears overcoming her face reminded her the truth; that she was the one who turned their home into just four walls, one roof, and a hollow floor.
A/N: Well hasn't this season of Nashville been depressing! This is just a little blurb into the heartbreak that is Javery. Hope you enjoy and sorry for all the building metaphors (what can I say, I'm an architect).
