Author's Note: So, my original estimate of three chapters is no longer true. I debated where to stop this second chapter and decide sooner rather than later, because once I realized how much I had planned, I knew I couldn't fit it all here.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And as always, any mistakes found are my own. Thanks for reading!

"So you're sure you're okay? You don't need me to drive up there?"

Rayna pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, smiling as she overlooks the lake behind Deacon's cabin. "Tandy, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Enjoying not having to pose in front of cameras for a few days, actually."

Tandy laughs, but there's something else itching at her, and she has to know. "Have you heard from him?"

"Tandy-"

"What? It's a perfectly reasonable question," Tandy replies.

"He agreed to let me stay here for a few days to get some space, that doesn't have to mean anything at all."

"You know, what's interesting is that you automatically assumed I meant Deacon and not Luke," she says, but there's no accusation in her voice. She hadn't actually been that surprised when she heard her sister called the wedding off, but she just hopes she finds contentment, whatever that means. "I saw him yesterday, by the way."

Rayna sits up straighter in her chair, swatting at the mosquito invading her space. She takes a gulp of the sweet tea by her side before replying. "Him meaning Luke? What happened?"

"Yes, him meaning Luke. Nothing, really. I was with the girls at the time, so I suppose that's why he didn't make a scene. He might have gotten blood in his mouth from biting his tongue when Daphne mentioned I'd just picked them up from guitar lessons at Deacon's though."

Rayna can't help but laugh, despite the slightest tinge of guilt at it being at Luke's expense. She stares down at her bare ring finger, thinking how she'd almost married the man. While she recognized her feelings for him, she wonders now if what she'd felt had actually been love. "If he's angry, he has every right to be. I could have gone about it a better way."

Tandy sighs, her frustration for this particular line of excuses becoming evident. "Honey, you can't beat yourself up about it. You knew you didn't want to marry him, so you turned him down before it got even more complicated. You'll spend the holidays at home in Nashville rather than in some random hotel in Australia for crying out loud. You are coming home by then, right?"

While she figures her sister is joking, there's a part of Rayna that for a moment wonders what would happen if she doesn't. It's a surprisingly warm day at the cabin, and while she wouldn't particularly want to take a swim in the lake for fear of the water being too cold, she thinks for a second what it might be like if she could spend every day doing just what she's doing now-relaxing and enjoying herself for once. "Of course I am. I'd miss the girls too much. And you. And also Bucky, too, you know. How's he taking to you being back in town, by the way?"

The direction of the conversation has shifted, and it's clear Tandy's not too comfortable with it. "We haven't talked much, just saying hello. That's it. We both expressed worry for you about how this looks to the press, but it'll be fine."

"I don't care how this looks to the press. Maybe I should, but what I care about is what's best for me. What I care about is my life and where it's going. If people don't like it, they don't have to pay attention," Rayna replies, surprised a bit at her own sudden spark of interest in taking a stand. The other end of the line is quiet so long she begins to think the same thing has happened to for Tandy, too. "You okay?"

"I could ask the same thing of you. I'm just glad to hear you standing up for yourself, that's all." Tandy sounds farther away for a moment, and Rayna hears her yelling something at one of the girls before hearing a crash. "Listen, honey, I've gotta go. Daphne's science project just fell on the floor. Promise me you'll take care of yourself?"

Rayna smiles, happy that life seems to, for the moment, be relatively normal. "Of course."

They hang up, and for a minute or two she just sits there, phone in her hand. She thinks of how easy it would be to go back home, plunge into her music even harder than before, and pray that it all blows over. It can only be a matter of time until some other act covers the headlines with something else newsworthy. She thinks of the as-yet-unaired Christmas special they filmed at her home and how awkward it will be if the network still chooses to let it play. She's talked to the girls about it some; while both are okay with her decision, it's Daphne who seems at least a little hurt. The poor girl has had so much change in just a short amount of time-they both have, if she's being honest-and what she wants more than anything for the both of them is for the world to feel normal again. What she wants for herself is similar, and yet she finds herself at a loss for how to get there.

Close to the porch steps, two squirrels fight over a prized nut they've found. Overhead, a bird caws loudly. The wind kicks up, causing the trees to litter leaves on the ground. And yet, over all these sounds, Rayna hears the distinct rumble of an engine approaching. She frowns, curious because there's not another house around for a good while. The sound stops and she hears a door slamming shut, and it's now she realizes someone's arrived. Briefly, she wonders if Tandy had actually been on her way the whole time. Until she hears the sound of the front door opening. She'd locked it earlier when she'd gone out for a walk, and she hasn't been to that side of the house since she got back, and only one-perhaps two, she thinks-other people would have access to a key. She closes her eyes, gripping the arms of her chair. Of course he would come.

"Ray, you here?"

Rayna grips the arms of the chair as she hears him call her name a few more times, growing closer. She gets up at last, gathering the courage to face him. In the kitchen she frowns, curious as he sets several paper grocery bags on the counter. "What's going on?"

Deacon starts removing a few items from the bags, replying as he puts a few cans of vegetables away. "I called a buddy of mine that lives up this way to make sure everythin' was ready when you got here, but I figured there was some things maybe he didn't think of."

Rayna has to laugh when he pulls out a chocolate bar from one of the bags. When he follows it up with a box of popcorn, she smiles. "You always did know my junk food weaknesses."

"Yeah, I reckon I did," Deacon's replies. He weighs a box of pasta in his hands, uncertain. He's driven the whole way, stopping only to pick up groceries a few miles down the road, but now that he's alone with her again, he's not quite sure what to do.

Rayna picks up on his apparent anxiety, studying the way he moves about the kitchen-placing a carton of milk in the fridge, some coffee and a box of cereal in the cupboard-all the while not looking her way. She crosses her arms, resting her hip against the counter. "Everything okay?"

"What?" Deacon asks, startled. The worry on her face makes him feel guilty. She clears her throat across the room and he looks up, offering a shrugs as he matches her eyes with his own. "Yeah. I'm fine. Listen, I'm sorry for showin' up out of the blue, unannounced like this. I guess I just wanted to be a good host. Kinda failed at that by not at least callin' you first."

"It's your house, Deacon. You have every right to be here. I do gotta be honest though, I was a bit surprised to see you."

Deacon remembers a time when it could have been not just his, but theirs, and how he'd done a royal job of screwing that up. She has every right to be angry at him for all the hurt he's caused, and yet the fact that she's forgiven him time and again makes him more grateful than she'll ever know. It's the fact that she's even willing to try again that's driven him here, but there's also something else. Since hearing his diagnoses, he's known he'd have to tell her eventually, and he wants her to know before it's too late. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," Rayna replies, without hesitation. "Why?"

He considers telling her right then. It would be easy to just spill all of the words out without stopping. He could simply tell her the truth and trust that she'd do with it whatever she wanted, but as the thought crosses his mind, he knows he can't do that. This isn't something you can just dump on someone's lap without warning, at least without a little fiddling around first. "Then I need you to trust that I have a reason for showin' up here unannounced. But I'd like to make you some dinner first, if that's all right."

She studies him, noting the nervous energy that his movements are filled with, and she knows without asking that it's something important. Before coming to the cabin, he'd agreed to give her whatever space she needed to do the thinking she had to do. He'd even offered to bring the girls up after she got a little time to herself, if it was what she wanted. They'd talked about it, which made him showing up alone all the more unexpected. "Sure," she replies, not wanting to push on whatever boundaries he's apparently set for himself. "I'll just be outside if you need me."

Deacon goes about preparing dinner, a simple pasta dish with salad and homemade garlic bread. They eat in relative silence and after they're done Rayna insists on cleaning up, saying it's only fair. Deacon business himself while she does with his guitar, settling on the back steps and strumming a few chords. He's brought a notepad and pen, and he pauses a few time to jot down a few lines. Rayna's comes outside a little while later, quietly observing for a few minutes before sitting down on the steps next to him. "You working on something?"

Deacon shrugs it off, trying not to focus on how close they're sitting to each other. "I can't quite figure the second verse out. But you wanna hear what I have so far?"

Rayna nods, happy to see him more at ease, but she knows him well enough to realize he's sui g the guitar as a block to further stave off whatever he came to say. She offers a few suggestions for the second verse, even singing a little to help him work it out, but eventually curiosity gets the best of her. "Deacon, you didn't come here to write music with me, did you?"

Deacon shifts to face her, clinging to the guitar like it's a safety net. "Maybe a little bit. I love writin' with you, you know that."

"And I love it, too. But can you just tell me what's going on? I gotta be honest here, I'm kind of-"

"I don't know how to-" Deacon interrupts her, but pauses as he debates the best way to phrase it. "The day you called off the wedding, I got some other news. It turns out I was sick. Am, actually. I probably should have told you that day when you came over, but you already had so much goin' on, I didn't think it was right to pile more on top of it."

"Sick?" Rayna asks, the word tasting dry and hollow, like ash. "How sick?"

It's now that Deacon sets his guitar aside, resting it against the steps. He rubs his hands against his legs, almost like he's not quite sure what to do with them, until Rayna grabs one and holds it with her own. She laces her fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, and he owes it to her to respond. "I've got another appointment early next week to say for sure, but the doctor already seemed to think it was cancer."

There's an orange glow filling the sky as the sun sets, a sure sign the day is ending; squirrels hurry to their hiding places, birds begin securing themselves in nests, and the insects that pestered her earlier have calmed down. Rayna is aware of all of this, and yet she can't bring herself to enjoy the simplicity of it all like she might have earlier in the day. Everything has essentially come to a screeching halt, and for a moment she has to remind herself to breathe. "Cancer?"

Deacon feels a lump growing in his throat. He's supposed to be the strong one, and yet all he seems to be able to do is fall apart. "It's karma, right? Or a really bad joke. I cleaned up my life, did the best I could. Yeah, I know that I've made more than my share of mistakes, but I'm workin' on it. Truly."

"Does Scarlett know?"

He nods, because this is something he actually knows for certain, unlike most things at the moment. "She was with me when I found out, but there's no one else, aside from the doctors. And now you," he says, lowering his gaze. He takes a deep breath, regretting what he says next already, but feeling like it needs to be said. "I just...I just needed you to know. I know you've been doin' some thinkin', and so I wanna be open about everythin' with you. And, well, Maddie's gonna want someone to talk to. If you're okay with her findin' out, that is."

It's at this that Rayna's heart breaks, because of course in the midst of apparently fighting for his life he's more concerned about her and Maddie than himself. "Deacon," Rayna says, her voice think with emotion. Her eyes are watery as she holds his hand, waiting to continue until he looks back at her. Suddenly things like Christmas specials that might air and articles about the wedding-that-wasn't don't seem as important. She brings his hand to her lips, kissing the back of it. "We are gonna fight this, you hear me?"

Maybe she's saying it out of obligation, or maybe she means it truly, but either way he's glad to finally have the weight of her not knowing the truth off his shoulders. "Yeah," he says, voice rough. "I really do."