A/N – This is an AU version of Deacon and Rayna's life, told a year at a time, from 1989 - 2015. While some of the storylines will still play out, others will not, and some storylines will take on a different look. I've created a new initial premise for Deacon and Rayna, which will impact everything that goes forward. Each chapter will include Deacon's POV and Rayna's POV and occasionally others.
Rayna
I'm getting married today!
Rayna Jaymes didn't care what anyone said about being too young or not knowing Deacon Claybourne long enough or that he wasn't 'her type'. She'd known she loved him practically since the moment she met him. Actually even before that. When she first laid eyes on him at the Bluebird, he did things to her insides that she didn't really understand. When she heard him play his guitar on stage, she had this weird feeling in her gut – she later figured out it meant she was turned on by him – and she knew he was meant for her. She heard him laugh as he walked over to where she was sitting with Watty White, and she melted. By the time Watty introduced them and Deacon took her hand, she was in love.
She met him when she was sixteen years old. She'd been sneaking out of the house for months, performing at open mics. Her mom had died when she was twelve, her daddy was never home enough to care about what she did, and her sister had left home for college. Rayna's dream, since the day her mother had given her her old guitar and told her to use it to explore all her feelings, was to be a country music star. She'd grown up on country music. Virginia Jaymes Wyatt loved classic country music and she had raised up Rayna on the artists she loved best.
One of the most meaningful songs Virginia had shared with her was the old classic, 'Wayfaring Stranger', sung by Bill Monroe.
Rayna was mesmerized by the song. She had listened carefully to the words, because her mother had told her to, and she was surprised at the knot she felt in her chest. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears, but when she turned to look at her mother, she saw tears in Virginia's eyes too. "Why does the song make you sad, Mom?" she asked.
Virginia hugged her daughter close. "It's always spoken to my soul, sweetheart," she said softly. "It pulls me into the music, every time I listen to it. It's about a better place, Rayna, and I'm waiting to go to that better place."
That scared Rayna. "Are you gonna die, Mom?" she asked, worriedly.
Virginia smiled. "No, of course not, dear. At least not right now. But that's what the song is about. Leaving behind all the woe of this life and going on to something better." She hugged her daughter close. "But you don't have to worry about any of that right now. And not for a long time."
Rayna thought about that. It was surely one of the first songs she'd ever loved. Unfortunately, it had only been a year later when her mom died in a car accident and Rayna had often wondered if she'd really found that better place, wondered if, somehow, Virginia had known. The song took on even more significance for her then. But the song that made her want to become a country artist was 'Rose Colored Glasses' by John Conlee. Another song her mom had introduced her to and one they'd sung together often. So she was doing this as much to honor her mother as she was for herself. Maybe a little more, sometimes.
What she loved most about country music were the stories each song told. And what she wanted to do more than anything was tell those stories on stage. The other thing her mother had told her, when she gave her the guitar, was to write down all her feelings and channel all that through her music. Rayna knew her mother hadn't known what her fate was, but she had taken it to heart and had started keeping a journal, something she continued to do. She wrote down everything, all her thoughts, feelings, wishes and hopes. She used some of it to write poetry and lyrics, most of which she thought wasn't very good. But she knew that, to be a real artist, she would need to write her own music and so she kept at it.
She smiled to herself. It was because of that music, or more accurately, the need to improve that music, that had led to her meeting Deacon. She looked over at Deacon, sleeping next to her. His breathing was even and rhythmic, as he lay there beside her in their bed. Her heart almost hurt with the love she felt for him and she felt tears spring to her eyes. He had rescued her, saved her from herself and from the life she'd left behind. He was everything to her and now she was going to be his wife. He would be her husband. And they would have that life that was good, the one he'd written about, that he said was for and about her.
She couldn't stand it anymore. She rolled towards him and pressed her naked body against his. He made a noise as he started to wake up and she reached over his hip and touched him with her fingers. "Rayna," he groaned softly, and she wrapped her hand around him. He jerked slightly and moaned again, then covered her hand with his. She pressed her lips against his back and caressed him gently, feeling herself getting more aroused. He tightened his hand over hers, forcing her to add more pressure and she smiled. Then he took her hand away and rolled over to face her, his eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep. She smiled some more. "Rayna, you're the devil," he growled.
She laughed softly. "I thought I was your angel," she whispered. He smiled at her and rolled her onto her back, laying heavily on top of her. He kissed her deeply, then nudged her legs apart with his knee and entered her swiftly. She caught her breath as she took him in. "Oh, Deacon," she breathed out, as she started to move her hips in rhythm with his movements. He lowered his head and found the sensitive area behind her ear and placed tiny kisses there. She arched her back, shifting herself against him, her arms around his back. "Oh, yes, yes, yes," she murmured as he loved her the way she loved best.
She was in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee, and he came up behind her, putting his hands on the counter on either side of her, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Big day today, huh?" he said, teasingly.
She turned to face him, holding her mug in front of her with both hands. "Yes, it is," she said, with a smile. Then she knitted her eyebrows together. "I can count on you not to get drunk today, right?"
He shook his head. "I ain't gonna get drunk, baby," he said. "I promise." He leaned in to kiss her. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then looked back at her. "I do need some of that coffee though. And a couple aspirin."
She ducked under his arm and walked over to her purse. She fished in it for the aspirin bottle and opened it, shaking two pills into her hand. She walked back over and handed them to him, as well as the mug of coffee she'd poured for herself. "You got a hangover then?" she asked, her voice flat.
He held his thumb and index finger slightly apart. "Just a small one," he said. Then he tossed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them down with the hot coffee. "You know how bachelor parties are, baby," he said, as she got down another mug and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee.
She raised her eyebrows at him and walked into the living room, sitting down on the fake leather couch they'd gotten at a thrift store, pulling her legs up under her. "That was no bachelor party, Deacon, and you know it. It was just you and Vince doing what y'all do, going out and getting ridiculously drunk."
He scowled and then followed her, sitting back against the arm of the couch. "This how we're doing it, Ray? You gonna snipe at me on our wedding day?"
She felt her stomach turn over. She really didn't want to do this, today of all days. It had become a recurring theme, though. One of the things she had learned about Deacon, that she didn't care for, was his propensity to drink. A lot. Cheap whiskey, with his friend Vince. Neither one seemed to know how to stop, although she usually could keep him from going too far, when she was with them. But she had let them go out alone the night before. One last hurrah before he gets shackled to that ball and chain, Vince had said, telling her it was just a joke when she got mad at him for inferring Deacon wasn't doing this willingly.
"No, I'm not," she said then. And she wasn't. It was a happy day. She loved this man, more than her own life, really. She put her mug down then and crawled over to him, curling up in his lap. "I love you, Deacon," she murmured into his chest. "You're everything to me."
He put his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. "I love you too, Ray. You're the best thing ever happened to me." He kissed her again. "I promise I'll do better. I'm gonna be a married man. I need to be better than that. So I can take care of you."
She had known, in her heart, the moment she met Deacon, that she would love him for the rest of her life. She had also believed she would spend the rest of her life with him. But the day he took her for a drive to a secluded area along the river, right over the border into Cheatham County, she did not expect a proposal.
It was a beautiful, sunny, warm early summer day. They had packed a sandwich lunch and driven to the little cove. It was heavily covered with trees and shrubs. Deacon spread the blanket they'd brought over the small patch of grass and they sat down, pulling off their boots. Rayna pulled out the sandwiches and Cokes she'd put in a plastic grocery sack. They ate quickly and then Deacon laid back on the blanket, his hands behind his head. He looked over at Rayna.
"You like this place, baby?" he asked.
She smiled, sitting cross-legged next to him. "I do. This reminds me a little bit of the place my mom used to take Tandy and me sometimes," she said. "There was some land along the river that had been in her family for years and we used to go out there, just to sing and dream about the future." She looked at him. "Did you have a place like that? Somewhere you used to go and think about your dreams?"
He sighed and then rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He looked up at her. "I never had no dreams, Ray," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I just wanted out. I don't know that it was a dream, but I wanted out of the nightmare."
She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. "I can't even imagine," she said. "I don't really remember wanting to get away, except maybe recently. But I surely did feel like my dreams had disappeared when my mom died."
He ran his hand down her calf, then looked up at her again. "You're my dream, Rayna," he said. "I didn't know it would be you, but when I met you, I knew then."
She smiled. "My dream is for us to make music together, for the rest of our lives. And to sit on our porch, looking out over the water, with our family all around us. Holding hands, being happy."
"I love that dream."
She looked out towards the river. "I would love to have a house on the river or on a lake or something. With big windows that look out over the water and a big porch, big enough for lots of chairs. Quiet, peaceful, secluded." She looked back at him. "Doesn't that sound perfect?"
He nodded. "I'll get you that place one day, baby." She smiled at him and he sat up, taking her hands in his. "I love you so much, Rayna," he said.
"I love you too, Deacon."
He leaned towards her. "You're my dream. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, making you happy, loving you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I love you more than anything else in the whole world. Marry me."
Her eyes snapped wide open. "What? Are you serious?"
He smiled. "I am. I mean, I know we're young and we hadn't known each other long, but…."
She breathed in and then smiled, rising up on her legs and throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes, I'll marry you!"
He got up on his knees and put his arms around her waist, leaning in to kiss her. "I don't got a ring or nothing, but I'll get you one."
She shook her head, still smiling. "I don't need that. Just a plain old wedding band is fine with me." She hugged him and then kissed him. She leaned her forehead against his. "This is the happiest day of my life," she whispered.
They were getting married at Watty White's house. There weren't going to be a lot of people there, just the other musicians and artists they'd met as they worked the honky tonks and dive bars around Middle Tennessee. Watty had become like a father to her, more of a father than the one she had. Lamar Wyatt didn't know she was getting married, although she had no illusions that he would learn it eventually.
She was sitting in front of a mirror, putting on her makeup. Deacon was in another bedroom, getting dressed. She smiled to herself as she remembered how he'd stood just outside the door to this room and kissed her.
"Next time I kiss you, we'll be married," he said.
She grabbed his hand and looked searchingly into his eyes. "You sure about this?" she asked. "You're sure we should get married?" She knew she wanted to, more than anything, but they were so very young.
He frowned. "Course I'm sure. Ain't you?" he asked and then he looked worried. "You ain't having second thoughts, are you?"
She shook her head. "No, not at all." She smiled at him coyly. "But you know, you're giving up all those Samantha Beeswaxes," she said teasingly.
He raised his eyebrows. "Ain't nobody holds a candle to you, Ray. Not even Samantha Beasley."
She laughed and pushed at his chest. "Go get ready then. I'll see you in front of the minister." And then she'd walked into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her.
The first time he'd kissed her had been in his car after a party they'd gone to. They hadn't gone together, but they well and surely left together. She had wanted him to kiss her for weeks, really ever since she'd met him. She was pretty sure he wanted to kiss her too. But he had a girlfriend then and she could see that he felt some sense of loyalty. That had impressed her about him, but she also thought he could do a lot better than the silly Samantha Beeswax.
He had become her regular guitar player, when she was performing. She still hadn't gotten a paying gig – she was hitting every open mic and new artist spotlight she could, trying to get noticed – but he hung in there with her. The closest they had come to kissing had been after they had performed at the Exit/In. She always rolled her eyes at the irony that she could perform at places she'd never be admitted to as a customer, but she kept at it, hoping that one of these performances would lead to something that paid money.
They had finished their set, which actually was a combination of the two of them. Deacon performed some songs, she performed some songs, they did some duets. It had become their thing. She found herself relying on him more and more. He was always there with her, supporting her, and she did the same for him. Something seemed different that night, though. They had done a duet on 'Tennessee Waltz' and it had been almost surreal. She had felt something she'd never felt before with Deacon. It had been like the crowd faded away and it was just the two of them, just singing to each other. It wasn't the words of the song as much as it was just the connection between the two of them. It had left her a little breathless as they came off the stage.
She turned to him. "That was amazing," she said.
He nodded. "Yes, it was," he replied. His eyes seemed to be pulling her in and she took a step towards him. He touched her arm with his hand and started to lean towards her.
"Deacon!" The sound of Samantha's voice broke the mood and they stepped away from each other. She looked away for a second and then back, as Samantha brushed against her to throw her arms around Deacon. "Oh, hon, you were fantastic!" she cried, kissing him full on the mouth. Then she turned to look at Rayna. "Oh, and you too, sweetie," she said. She was smiling, but Rayna saw possessiveness in her eyes, and a warning to stay away.
Rayna took another step back and lifted her hand. "Thanks, Deacon," she said. "See you tomorrow." And she had hurried off so that neither of them would see the tears in her eyes.
When she let him kiss her in his car, she had thought for a second she might faint from the amazingness of it. But she didn't. She had let him kiss her again, until she was breathless from it. It hadn't been long after that night that he broke things off with Samantha Beasley and the two of them became a duo both on and off stage. Which turned out to be a good thing when, two weeks later Watty got her a paying gig and she came home to find all of her things in suitcases in the front foyer. With nowhere else to go, she had showed up at Deacon's tiny one bedroom apartment.
When she walked into the house, there were suitcases in the foyer. She looked around in confusion, then heard footsteps. Her father walked out of his study and stood looking at her, his arms crossed and an angry look on his face. "I told you not to defy me, Rayna," he said, his voice low and menacing.
Her heart was pounding, but she stood her ground, trying not to let him know how scared she was. "I don't know what you mean," she responded.
He smiled, a wicked, unpleasant smile that didn't reach his eyes. He walked towards her. "I told you not to pursue this folly of yours," he said. "But you didn't listen and you did it anyway."
"I was out…studying," she said, swallowing hard.
He got in her face and the look on his face was pure anger. "Don't lie to me, little girl!" he said, shaking his finger at her. She stepped back. "I know exactly where you were tonight. And where you've been every night you've left this house without my permission. How stupid did you think I was, Rayna?"
She breathed in and out, trying to calm her nerves. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
He raised his eyebrows. "Not when you live in my house, you don't!" he shouted. Then he smiled unkindly and waved his hand towards the suitcases. "But then, you don't live in my house anymore. Since you decided to make your own damn rules, you can just find your own damn way in the world. Without my help!"
Her eyes grew wide. "You're…you're kicking me out?" she said.
"I'm telling you that you don't live in my house anymore," he said, his voice cold.
She gasped and then she squeezed her hands into fists. She refused to be intimidated by him. "That's just fine," she said, through clenched teeth. "I don't need you anyway." She walked to the suitcases and picked up two. Then she turned and scowled at him. "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Daddy," she declared and marched out the door. She threw the suitcases into the trunk and then went back in for the rest. Lamar was nowhere to be seen when she walked back inside. When she had everything in her car, she pulled out of the driveway and then burst into tears.
Just thinking about it now made her sick to her stomach. What kind of father kicks his sixteen year old daughter out? Just for following her dream? She didn't understand it, but had made up her mind to make her own way from that point on. She was just grateful she had Deacon's support. He was her family now. And in just a little while, he would be her husband. She smiled at her reflection. This was truly the happiest day of her life.
She pulled out her journal to record her thoughts on this big day. I'm getting married today, to the love of my life. I know I'm young, but I feel old inside. I feel like I've really lived a life in these seventeen years. What I do know is that the feelings I have for Deacon are grown-up feelings. I mean, he knows me, deep in my soul. And I know him the same way. I think, no matter where life takes us, we'll always have that bond, always be this connected, always be each other's family. He's my anchor in a storm, the limb I cling to in the wind, the one who grounds me in a way I never thought was possible. I love him with every inch of my heart, with every fiber of my being, with every piece of my soul.
Tandy seemed nervous as she helped Rayna into the vintage white wedding dress she'd found at a local consignment store. "You didn't tell Daddy about this, did you?" Rayna asked her sister.
Tandy shook her head. "No, of course not," she said. She put her hands on Rayna's shoulders and leaned in. "But he'll find out. You know he will. Just like he found out that you changed your last name to Jaymes."
Rayna straightened her back. "I don't care. He won't be able to do anything. I don't have to have his permission to get married. You're my guardian and you're here. That's all I need." She reached up to put her hand on Tandy's and softened her face. "Thank you for being here. It means the world to me."
Tandy smiled and kissed Rayna on the cheek. "You're my baby sister, Rayna. Of course I'd be here." She adjusted the sleeves on the dress. Rayna had picked out a tulle tea length gown with a lace overlay bodice, with sheer lace sleeves. Tandy wound some baby's breath in Rayna's hair. "You look beautiful, sweetie."
Rayna stepped into her white strappy sandals and then smoothed her hands over the skirt of the dress. "I feel beautiful," she said, with a smile. She looked at Tandy's reflection in the mirror and frowned. "What?"
Tandy shook her head and averted her eyes. "Nothing."
"It's not nothing," Rayna said firmly.
Tandy looked back at her. "It's just…oh, Rayna, baby, you're just seventeen. How do you know Deacon is the one…?"
Rayna raised her eyebrows. "The one I want to spend my life with? Because he is. I love him. I feel a connection to him that I've never felt with anyone else before. I can't explain it, except to say he's like music is for me. I can't imagine my life without music. Or without him." She breathed in. "He loves me, Tandy. He's part of my soul and I'm part of his." She smiled then. "I'm going to grow old with him. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."
Deacon
When Deacon first met Rayna Wyatt, he already had a girlfriend. Samantha Beasley. He'd been with Samantha for several months. She was a waitress at one of the places he'd played when he first got to Nashville. She was twenty-one and gorgeous, almost like a pin-up girl. She was blonde with green eyes – like a cat, he used to say – and a body that just wouldn't quit. He'd had sex with her in the employee bathroom before he even knew her name. Within a week, he was spending almost every night with her. She'd turned out to be more clingy than he would have liked, but she was great in bed, so he overlooked it. But then he went to an open mic at the Bluebird and his whole world changed.
She wouldn't become Rayna Jaymes until her father kicked her out of the house, so on that night, she was still a nervous sixteen year old, sneaking out to play her songs. She went on stage before he did and he remembered stopping what he was doing and watching her. She was all awkward arms and legs then – actually she still was a little bit, but he didn't mind – but she had a wholesome look about her that mesmerized him. She looked like the ultimate girl next door, although he found out later she was anything but. She had creamy skin, with freckles that danced across her nose, and reddish-gold hair that floated around her head like a halo. She had a sweet smile and, he learned later, a throaty little laugh that made him feel all warm inside.
He watched her perform without really hearing anything other than her sweet voice, the voice of an angel. She looked like the type of girl you'd build a life with and he jotted down his thoughts on a napkin that he would later turn into a song inspired by her. Samantha Beasley's days were numbered at that point, although she didn't know it yet. He had known, the moment his eyes landed on Rayna, that she was the one, his one true love, although he couldn't have fully articulated why at that point. And there were surely days after that when he felt unworthy of someone like her, but he knew, with certainty, that he would never meet anyone else quite like her.
He got to know her when he gave her guitar lessons. Or tried to give her guitar lessons. He learned two things from that experience – she wasn't probably ever going to be a great guitar player and she had a mouth on her.
She walked up to him with her guitar case and sat next to him on the rock wall. She looked over at him briefly, then looked away. "So Mr. White said you could help me," she said. "Am I really that bad?"
He looked over at her, but she still couldn't really look him in the eye. "Honestly?" he said. "You're pretty bad. You ever had lessons?"
She looked at him then, her eyes flashing and her lips pressed together in a thin line. She breathed out. "Yes, I've had lessons. So, you think you're some kind of guitar god then?" she asked angrily.
He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm better than you." He shifted a little. She was getting under his skin a little bit, and not just in a negative way. She made his chest feel tight. "I thought you wanted to learn. That's what Watty said. I ain't here to blow smoke up your butt."
She gasped. "Why, you're just rude!" she said. "I don't know why Mr. White thinks you're so great."
He laughed then. "Why you keep calling him 'Mr. White'?"
She sat up really straight then and he could have sworn she looked down her nose at him. "Because I have good manners, that's why."
He laughed again. "Well, maybe you got good manners, but you still ain't all that great a guitar player. Do you want me to help or not?"
She sat there for a minute, as though she were thinking about it. Then she looked away. "I guess I have no choice," she said. She turned back to look at him. "Or you could just play guitar for me. Since you're so much better than I am and all."
He considered that. "We could do both," he said finally.
She pointed her finger at him. "You have to be nice to me," she said.
He laughed. "I don't gotta be nice. I just gotta be good," he said.
He smiled to himself. She never did get much better on the guitar, but he did start playing for her.
There were two reasons why he didn't make a move on Rayna right away and neither of them had anything to do with Samantha Beasley. The first reason was because she was a Wyatt. Watty had told him about Rayna's family, that her father was one of the most influential businesspeople in Nashville and the state of Tennessee. She lived in a Belle Meade mansion and wanted for nothing. She was so far out of his league that he never dreamed she would look at him as anything other than hired help. And then there was the fact that she was sixteen. He was only three years older than her, but that seemed like a bigger deal when the girl facing him, with her youthful, girl-next-door face, wasn't even out of high school.
He surely wanted to though. Every time he spent time with her, he wanted to kiss her, hold her hand, put his arms around her. When she wasn't being mouthy, she was actually a lot of fun, with an easy laugh. She still seemed skittish around him and he wasn't sure why that was. She was very naïve though, about a lot of things, and he thought that might be why. But one day, after a more productive than usual guitar lesson, they finally talked about each other, and found out they had more in common than they thought.
"Why are you doing this, Rayna Wyatt?" he asked.
"Doing what?" she responded.
"Music."
She sighed. "I feel like I have to. Like I'm just meant to do it." She bit her lip. "Isn't that why you do it?"
He thought about that. "Yeah, I guess. But it also got me out of Mississippi."
"That's where you're from?" He nodded. "Don't you miss your family?"
He shook his head. "Ain't nobody to miss," he said, frowning.
She looked at him for a long time. "You running away from something?" she asked, her voice filled with compassion.
He shrugged. "Maybe."
She leaned her head back against the stone wall. "I'm doing this for my mama," she said quietly. "She encouraged me, but then, you know, she died when I was twelve. And my daddy, well, my daddy doesn't really seem to care about what I do." Her voice got shaky and trailed off. He looked over at her and thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes. She looked back at him then. "I want to be an artist. I want to sing on stage and tell people my stories. I feel like I have so much to say, but I don't know exactly how to say it."
"Just say what you know," he said.
She sighed. "What is it you're running from, Deacon?"
"I didn't say I was doing that," he said, uncertain about sharing his past with her.
"I think you are though." She reached out and touched his arm and he felt a shot of electricity run through him.
Later on he would wonder why he told her the sad story of the Claybourne family. He'd never really told anyone before, but it seemed like she cared and so he told her about his abusive alcoholic father, about his timid and beaten down mother, and the life that he and his sister Beverly had endured. He told her about his father giving him alcohol from a very young age and telling him he would be a drunk too. He told her about the fights his parents had and the violence inflicted on his mother, his sister and himself. And then his promise to get out and find a better life for himself.
She didn't recoil from him, just listened. And then she told him about the fights between her parents and the times her mother would leave the house because she was so unhappy. She told him how her mother died and that her father had turned distant and uncommunicative. She talked about how she felt like such an outsider in her own family and that music was the only thing that gave her comfort.
It bonded them, the music and the pain they'd each lived through, connecting them more every day.
He hadn't been home long. Long enough for two juice glasses of cheap whiskey and he was thinking about a third. It had been a good night. It was Rayna's first paying gig, at a place out in Gallatin called Pete's. The place had been a little less than half full, but the crowd had been enthusiastic. She didn't care though, because it felt like she had arrived.
As they came off the stage, she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, my God, Deacon, that was amazing!" she cried. He put a hand around her waist and pulled her in close, kissing her. He was so glad to be able to kiss her now that he did it a lot.
"You were amazing out there, baby," he said, grinning at her. "You're on your way!"
Her smile faded just a little. "Will you still play guitar for me?"
"Course I will," he said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, you have your own career," she said.
He shrugged. "We'll work it out." He took her home, dropping her off two driveways over from hers, like always. Then he sped away.
But now there was a knock on his door and when he went to open it, he found Rayna standing there, in tears. "Rayna?" he said. "What are you doing here?" She just shook her head, unable to speak. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the door, shutting it behind her. He led her to the couch and they sat down. He put his arm around her and she leaned against his shoulder. "Baby, what happened?" he asked again.
She looked up at him. "Daddy…kicked me out." And then she started to cry again.
He frowned. "What?"
"He…he told me if I kept, you know, doing this…I couldn't stay there. That I had to follow his rules." She rolled her eyes. "He, well, he found out about tonight. When I got home, he had all my stuff in the foyer."
He was stunned. "Really?" he asked.
She nodded. "Can I stay here tonight?" she asked. "You're the only family I have."
He swallowed over the lump in his throat, put his arms around her and held her close. "Baby, you can stay as long as you need to."
He stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the tie Watty had given him. He couldn't ever remember wearing a suit, but he had promised Rayna he'd dress up for this. Rayna had never moved out, once she'd moved in. Not surprisingly, she was a virgin, and it was nearly a month before he had come home from his part-time job to find her naked underneath her robe, asking him to make love to her. He'd been very gentle with her and had taken his time, but it had solidified their connection even more, made them even more entwined with each other.
And now he was going to marry her, the love of his life. He was nervous, but he also couldn't wait. They were each other's family and now it would be official.
Watty was standing next to him as he watched Rayna's sister walk towards him and then Rayna. He smiled as she approached. She was glowing, he thought. She looked so beautiful. He thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. When she came and stood in front of him, he leaned down to kiss her, even though he knew he was supposed to wait. She took his hand and they turned to face the minister.
He could feel her hand shaking a little in his and he turned to look at her, smiling. "We're okay," he whispered.
She gave him a slight nod. "I know," she whispered back.
They repeated their vows to each other and then he put a silver band on her finger that he'd had engraved with the word 'Forever' and she put a matching band on his finger that said 'For always'. He could see the tears in her eyes and he knew he had tears in his own. He finally could lean down and officially give her their first kiss as husband and wife. When he released her lips, he whispered, "You're my wife."
She grinned back at him. "You're my husband." And he kissed her again, long enough that their guests started to cheer.
