"You killed 'em again." And he slides his hand onto my shoulder. I reach my hand on top of his and smile. Small moments with little contact is all we have now. Sometimes it's his hand on my shoulder, or my hand on his. And sometimes we do this awkward forearm grab, but nothing more. It's been fifteen years since we had anything more, and even then, it was just a hug. That was my decision. He tried a handful of times after but I found ways to avoid it and eventually he stopped trying all together. I couldn't allow anything more, because of the effect our last hug had. I remember that day, I remember every moment of that hug.

Maddie was almost a year old, and Deacon was fresh out of rehab. Maddie, I love that girl and she was a gorgeous baby, but she was a little nightmare. She never slept, therefore I never slept. I spent the first year of her life napping, I wouldn't even call it sleeping. I told Bucky I wanted to stay home with her for a year. In that year I would write and make an album and after that year I would go back on tour. I spent a lot of time alone, writing music. That period of my life I wrote more songs than I knew what to do with. It was partly due to the not sleeping thing but it was mostly due to all of the emotions I felt about the decisions I had made since I found out I was pregnant. Writing, didn't bother Teddy. When I started recording again, his irritations started to grow. He started picking little fights with me that eventually turned into big fights when I would forget to call and say I wasn't coming home that night. When I started rehearsing for the tour he became so angry with me he gave me silence. It wasn't the I'll ignore you silence either. It was the silence that came with looks that sent daggers into my body. I never understood why he thought having Maddie would change me. That I would want to become a stay at home wife once my daughter was born. I love my family but I am not only my family. I am still me. And I am my music. I need music. I wish being a wife and mother was enough for me but I'm going to say the thing you aren't suppose to say, they aren't enough.

We had been rehearsing for about a month and in that time I had fired three lead guitarists. I was growing frustrated and my diva dips were at an all time high. After firing Gary, he left slamming the door and I fell to the ground out of anger. I'd stayed that way for a while and somewhere in there I could hear Bucky standing there watching me.

"Bucky I know you are there. Are you going to say anything or just stand and watching me?"

He walks and sits on the stage next to me. He lets out a deep breath and finally speaks.

"Deacon is back in town."

My head shot up and I looked directly at him. That was the last thing I expected Bucky to tell me. Deacon was back? Why hadn't he called me?

"How is he?"

"Coleman says he's good. He is sober, and working the program. He said he's moved back into town, out of the cabin. He's playing some gigs around town keeping busy."

My eyes start to water. Did he not want to see me? I didn't bother trying to hide my tears. There was no point.

"Rayna, the tour is starting soon. You need someone on guitar, and you and I both know he is the best."

And again I'm shocked. Was Bucky really sitting here suggesting I ask him to come back into my band?

"Are you seriously asking me to ask him to come and play for me? Because you of all people should know that I cannot do that!"

"Rayna I work for you so if you want me to go back to vetting guitarist I will. But I think you should save us both from wasting the amount of time we have left and ask him to come back."

He gets up and walks towards the door. I am trying to hold back my tears. I didn't want Bucky to see me cry, he's seen me cry more times then I care to admit. He's probably witnessed more than I'm actually aware of. Right before he pushes the door open I yell towards him, "You ask him." He turns and looks at me as if waiting for me to say it again, but I can't say it again so I just nod my head. Once the door shuts the strength I had left vanishes and I sit there crying. I allow myself an hour to break down and accept how I feel. I missed him, and it hurt that he hadn't called.

A few days later Bucky calls me telling me Deacon agreed to come back and that he would be at rehearsal on Sunday. He had messaged over all the new music and informed him that I wouldn't be doing any of the old set. I was grateful Bucky was trying to protect me but I knew Deacon and I would have to talk eventually.

The days leading up to Sunday passed in the blink of an eye. I hadn't eaten in days and thinking about seeing him again gave me butterflies. The drive was the worst. I threw up twice on the twenty minute it took me to get there. Once I pulled in, I sat in my car. I couldn't will myself to move. My mind was racing but my body was paralyzed. I looked over at the dash and realized I was thirty minutes late. I had to go in, they were all waiting for me and we needed to rehearse. I get out of the car shaking but as I opened the door to the building I put my mask on.

"Hey y'all. I'm sorry I'm late. Maddie was unusually difficult this morning."

The band chuckles and several say its ok and not to worry about it.

I can feel him looking at me but I avoid looking at him.

"Let's get started. Just run through the whole thing and see how it goes."

Everyone shakes their heads and we begin.

We rehearse for almost two hours and I can tell the guys are hungry so I let them go. I turn towards Pete, my drummer.

"That went good. Don't you think?"

"I think you are over here talking to me to avoid talking to Deacon."

I shove him.

"I am not. You know I value your opinion."

He laughs and Deacon looks over at us and I give a shy smile and turn back to Pete.

"Honestly Rayna, he balances you. Today you were alive. The music has always been good you wrote an amazing album, but today you felt what you were singing and it radiated into the rest of the band."

I get quiet and run my fingers through my hair trying to avoid looking at him.

"I'm not trying to make this any harder on you than everyone here already knows it is. But you are the one that has always said there would be no Rayna Jaymes without Deacon Claybourne. All I'm saying is I didn't realize how true that was until today."

He turned and left with the rest of the band. I looked over my shoulder and watched Deacon putting his guitars into their cases. I walked over and said, "Deacon."

He turned around grinned. It was the first time I was really looking at him. His face was rested with his facial hair looking well groomed. His eyes didn't have bags under them anymore. He looked good. He looked like the man I fell in love with. It made me happy to see him and to see that he is healthy.

"Rayna."

"You have a second to talk?"

"Sure." We walk over to the stage and sit down with our feet hanging off the edge.

"So, how are you?"

"Alive." I don't know why that answer felt like a knife went through my heart. I don't know why it brought tears to my eyes, but it did. I turned my head so that he couldn't see.

"Ray, that was a joke. I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry." He scoots closer and lifts his hands to turn my head back toward him but he stops. He doesn't touch me, he puts his hands back onto his lap. I wipe my face and turn towards him.

"You know I hate it when you cry."

"I'm not crying." He chuckles at me.

"That's twice."

"What?"

"That's twice you've lied to me." I still looked at him confused.

"You weren't late. You were here fifteen minutes early. I saw you in your car. You looked like something was bothering you and I wanted to go over and talk to you. But I didn't. I didn't know if I was… I don't know I just didn't."

"I was nervous to see you today. I don't know how we do this. The only thing I know for sure is today felt amazing. Being back up on stage with you I realized that you and music, you're the same thing. I don't want to do this without you, but I also know that isn't fair of me to say. I want you to come back, but it's up to you Deacon."

"I know this is going to be hard for me Ray. Just seeing that ring on your left hand, knowing that I didn't put it there is killing me. I want a drink."

My breath hitches.

"But the fact that I just openly admitted that to you proves that I can handle this. In the past if I wanted a drink, nothing was going to stop me. Music is what I do. I play guitar for people who pay me money. I know on this tour everything is different and I will respect whatever rules you want me to follow."

"Deacon, the only rule I have for you is to stay sober. I want you to continue to keep going to your meetings and working the program. One slip up and I will fire you."

"I want you to fire me if I even look at a drink. But Ray, I won't. I won't disappoint you again."

I just shook my head. Hearing him talking about how serious he is taking his sobriety made me proud, but then my thoughts tainted it. Was everyone right? Was I reason he couldn't stay sober for all of those years? I was the only thing different this time. Why couldn't he say and mean all of these things when he had me? If he had just taken the second, third, or fourth time seriously I could have told him about our daughter. After rehearsal we could have been going home to her, as a family. I was so lost in all of my thoughts I didn't notice he had gotten up and was about to leave.

"Deacon!"

He turns back towards me and I stood up. I started walking to him, and as I got closer my steps got quicker. When I reached him I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my body into his. He didn't move at first but I just held on tighter. I didn't want to let go, he was home. He felt like home, and when he finally wrapped his arms around my waist I knew he was where I was suppose to be. I whispered into his ear, "I'm glad you're alive." I pulled away right after and left without looking back.

That was the last time I held him. Now all I get is a hand on my shoulder, but each time he touches me even an accidental nudge I think of our last hug. For a few seconds I allow myself to relive it, and to feel it. I allow myself to crave it.