It had been two weeks, and she hadn't spoken to Deacon at all. Not a phonecall, not a visit. Not so much as a text, from either of them. He was being true to his word, giving her time to answer him, but it was killing her as much as she was relieved. She'd picked up her phone and scrolled to his number so many times she would be ashamed to admit it, but she'd hung up before the dial tone had sounded in her ear.
If denial was a place, Rayna Jaymes would have a suite with her name on.
She'd asked Teddy to drop Maddie off at her guitar lessons and he'd done so without argument, much to her gratitude. Bucky hadn't asked questions when she'd directed him to Luke for the quotes the press were salivating for, and when he'd caught her hand freeze on the radio knob the morning she'd turned it on to hear one of Deacon's songs, he'd merely made her a cup of coffee and closed the door behind him on the way out.
If she'd been evasive, distracted, she'd been lucky with the timing of it all; it could easily be put down to the chaos that had reigned since the night at LP Field. Her album had shot to number 1, and between that and the proposal, the house hadn't been quiet for a single minute. The phone had been ringing off the hook, reporters were camped outside waiting for a glimpse of the happy couple, and she'd been sure to give them a tidbit or two.
A few days after the engagement she and Luke had been out to dinner at a swanky restaurant downtown, followed all the way by no less than twenty motorbikes of baying photographers. They'd made a fleeting appearance at a show Watty was hosting at the Ryman - she'd spent that night terrified Deacon would be there too, and so on edge she'd been that she'd spilled a drink on Luke's shoes, a mishap he'd laughed off good-naturedly, assuming she was just feeling the pressure of having every eye in the place on them. And she was; she felt like a fraud, like if they looked closely enough they would catch her out; maybe Deacon had left the mark of his lips on hers somehow.
The shot of Luke planting a kiss on her cheek as they'd left that night had made the front pages the next day. Wheeler Put a Ring On It, the headline read. She'd tossed that one straight in the trash.
She hadn't seen as much of Luke as he'd have liked, her excuse that every bit of PR she did was crucial for Highway 65 and she had to strike while the iron was hot. She'd made sure her schedule was jam-packed with interviews and performances, despite Bucky's careful - and quickly rebuffed - suggestion that she might like a little time to celebrate. She'd played the overjoyed fiancé well in public, her surprise at Luke's sudden proposal genuine, her bashful smiles and coy laughter coming easily, because years of practice does that, gives you a good game face.
On the inside it was a different story.
#
The knock startled Rayna, and she looked at the clock on the mantelpiece: eleven pm. It was dark out, the girls in bed, and she was alone, finishing up some paperwork Bucky had been on at her to look over. The all too fresh image of Deacon pushing past her into her kitchen flashed through her head, vivid and raw, and for a second she sat completely still.
The knock came again. It wasn't Deacon - he would have just let himself in, whether she wanted him to or not.
'I come bearin' gifts,' Luke said when she opened the door, holding up a plastic bag of cartons from her favourite Chinese.
'Tell me there are eggrolls in that bag,' she said, stepping back and letting her eyes follow him as he walked inside. She had told herself there was no decision to be made, that it just wasn't as simple as who to say yes to, that just because Deacon had laid himself bare to her didn't mean everything had changed overnight. It had flipped and switched in her mind anyway. Marry Luke, accept that friendship was it for her and Deacon, they were done; say goodbye to Luke, run as fast as she could to Deacon and let him give her all she'd ever wanted.
Or marry neither, get wasted with Tandy every night and sleep with Liam when he was rolling through town and she wasn't busy washing her hair.
She felt sad, watching Luke pull forks from the cutlery drawer as he chattered in amusement about the paparazzo at her gate who'd asked if he was going to be wearing his hat to the wedding. She shook the feeling away and poured two glasses of wine, moving closer to him and circling his waist with her arms.
'I'm glad you're here.'
'Me too,' he replied, chinking his glass against hers. 'I hope you're hungry.'
Rayna's stomach rumbled right on cue, and she was suddenly unsure when she'd last eaten a proper meal - she hadn't had the biggest appetite the past couple of weeks, and it wasn't surprising that the T-shirt she had on was hanging off one of her shoulders. 'I'm starving,' she said, pulling it up self-consciously. 'I would have made more of an effort if I'd known you were coming over, I must look a fright.'
'Now don't be thinkin' you need to make an effort with me - you've obviously already made more than enough of an impression,' he said, tugging her sleeve back down and kissing her bare shoulder. 'You're more beautiful like this than any other way.'
'Well you're a little biased,' she replied, laughing.
'Maybe I am, but I'm not the only one.'
Rayna swallowed. 'What?'
'The whole world is in love with you, Rayna, I never stood a damn chance of not fallin' like a tonne of bricks. I'm just a poor weak man, after all.' She studied his face for a moment, searching for any hint that he might know something was off, but there was none. She knew how it would make him feel if he did know, if he had any clue that Deacon was consuming her thoughts, just like he had forever ago when Luke had tried - and failed - to win her. The difference was, now he had won her.
It didn't mean Deacon was any further from her mind.
'You know,' she said, snapping a pair of chopsticks and trying desperately not to think of anyone but the man in front of her, 'I'd have said yes just for this kung pao chicken.'
#
'I hear congratulations are in order,' came Juliette's greeting as she breezed into the recording studio, letting the door bang shut behind her.
'Hey,' Rayna said, dropping her notepad onto her chair and standing up. Whatever understanding they'd reached recently, accepting Juliette's stiff hug still felt foreign, and they both pulled back a little awkwardly.
'So... that was fast. Have you ever met a man who didn't fall head over ass in love with you?'
'Oh plenty,' Rayna replied, 'all the ones that met you first.'
Juliette smirked, plopping down on the couch. 'Well, like I told you, he's a good one.' She looked at her carefully for a moment. 'Don't mess that up.'
It scared Rayna as much as it pissed her off, how Juliette managed to see right through her, past all the layers she'd crafted to protect herself. But then, Juliette had crafted her own layers, and they were based on everything she'd learned from years of studying Rayna Jaymes. 'Now why would I do that?'
'Oh I think you know why. Tell me, have you seen Deacon?'
She looked away. 'Not in a couple of weeks. How are things with Avery? Have you heard from him?'
'Not a word. Don't think I will be doing any time soon either.' Juliette shifted, pulling her feet up under her. 'Mind if I hang out here with you for a while?'
Rayna paused for a beat before she answered. 'Sure. If you want to...'
'You writin'?'
'Tryin' to. Doesn't seem to be happenin' though.' Rayna picked up her pen, and tossed it right back down. She'd been sat in the studio for hours, partially because it was peaceful - she was hiding, she knew it, but she could at least tell herself she was trying to get something productive out of her retreat. There were so many emotions swirling around leaving her dizzy that she felt the need to deal with them in the only way she knew how - by getting them down on paper.
'You mean you're not overflowin' with look-at-my-seven-carat lyrics?' Juliette asked dryly, and Rayna, despite herself, laughed.
'Did anyone ever get any songwritin' mileage out of happiness?'
'Not in country music they didn't.'
'Ever think we're in the wrong business Julìette?'
'What, you think if we were in the pop industry we'd be less masochistic? I don't think so. Look at Adele.'
Not for the first time in recent weeks, Rayna was glad the little blonde she'd once bristled at the sight of was now in her corner. 'There's tequila in that flask over there. You game?'
#
However busy Rayna had been of late, Tandy had been busier.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Rayna's kitchen looked like a bridal magazine had grown a liver, gone on a bender and thrown up all over it. There were swatches of lace, some silk, chiffon, and catalogues of far-flung designer barns and manor houses with guest capacities in the thousands strewn over every surface. Tandy had shown up with three bags full of crap, and Rayna had tried her best to shoo her back out the door with it all, but it was useless. If there was one thing Tandy loved in life above all else, it was planning a wedding.
'Oh this one is to die for,' she gasped, shoving a glossy page across the counter and rifling through a sample book to locate the exact material the dress in question was made from.
'Did you hold up a fabric store on the way over here?'
'It's a good thing one of us is prepared - you'll be wearing a sack if I don't help you. Now what do you think? Divine, isn't it?' She held the swatch up to Rayna's collarbone, tipping her head this way and that to appraise the colouring on her.
Rayna peered down at the dress. She swatted her sister's hand away. 'That train could herd cattle, Tandy.'
'Oh come on. It's beautiful, and that shade is just perfect on you - Lily Love. Isn't that adorable? It does also come in Bahama Sand and Pure Cloud, if you weren't quite sure.'
'Tandy - and forgive me if I'm just plain crazy here - is there any reason I can't wear... just white?'
Tandy stopped what she was doing abruptly and looked at her sister like she'd asked if she could have Taco Bell at the reception. 'Honey,' she said, almost pityingly, 'I think we both know you lost your right to wear white the minute Deacon Claybourne got his hands on you.'
For a second, Rayna was sure she must know, and her mouth dropped open, her face flushing. She realised a second later that Tandy was referring to days gone by, and she ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by an article about gazebos, but not before she caught Tandy's questioning look.
It was lucky Luke chose that moment to walk into the room.
'You runnin' a weddin' planner business out of this here kitchen Tandy?' he asked, surveying the mess and winking at Rayna. 'Should I not be seein' this stuff?'
'She hasn't even nearly made a decision yet,' Tandy said disapprovingly, 'but no, you shouldn't - eyes away.'
'Oh, y'all, it's just a dress,' Rayna said. 'I'm sure you glancing at one of the three thousand my sister has forced me to look at today won't make a difference. In fact - go ahead, share my pain.'
'Don't you dare,' Tandy warned.
Luke leaned over the counter and lifted something from one of the bags. 'And should I not be seeing this, either?' He held up a silk garter, and Rayna gawped.
'Tandy! What in the hell do I need one of those for?'
'It's tradition - you have to have a garter! Everybody knows that!'
Rayna rolled her eyes. 'Oh come on now.'
'Well,' Luke said pleasantly, 'I for one greatly appreciate this, even if my fiancè here hasn't set a date for the weddin' she's gonna wear it to yet.' He turned to Rayna and hooked an arm around her waist. 'You any closer to thinkin' about that babe?' he asked, a little cautiously.
'I've just been so damn busy, you know,' she said, kissing him on the cheek and waving her arms in the air. 'This album has taken every brain cell I got goin' for me, and I haven't had a moment for much else.'
'Well, I wanted to talk to you about that subject, as it happens.'
'Oh?'
The front door slammed before Luke had a chance to say anything more, teenage footsteps bounding up the stairs.
'What the...'
'Just leave me alone!' Maddie's voice bellowed, and Rayna rounded the corner in time to see her daughter's ponytail flying out of sight like a white rabbit.
And there he stood.
Deacon, one foot inside the open front door, a helpless look on his face.
'She was upset,' he said unnecessarily, gesturing toward the staircase.
Rayna nodded, her throat too dry to say anything. He was in her favourite shirt, the red plaid one, and she was almost knocked clean over by the intensity of her reaction to seeing him. It was like being away from home for months, missing your own bed every night, and then there you were in it, and the sheets were fresh on and they made you arch your toes and swear there was nowhere in the world you'd rather be.
'What happened?' she asked, trying to manage the overwhelming relief that he was right here in her hallway and that for this moment, even if it was only for this moment, she didn't have to miss him.
However thrown Rayna was by his sudden appearance, Deacon looked sure of himself, calm almost. It struck her that he wasn't nervous about her prolonged deliberation; he was confident in her answer, however long she might take to give it to him. She felt a thud in her stomach.
'Might be best she tells you that Ray,' he said steadily. 'She's havin' a hard time... adjusting to things.'
'Things?'
'Yeah,' he said. 'Things.'
She knew exactly what he meant, and she hated it. Maddie had been more distant since Luke's proposal than Rayna had ever known her, with the exception of the period right after she'd found out Deacon was her father. She'd tried to talk to her, but all she'd managed to extract were a couple of unconvincing assurances that she was fine, that she was happy for her mother and Luke.
Rayna opened her mouth in the hope that something would come out, but Luke appeared in the hallway and she jumped back involuntarily, putting as much distance between her and Deacon as she could without flattening herself against the wall.
'Deacon, come on in buddy,' he said, and before she could stop him, he'd clapped Deacon on the shoulder and was ushering him towards the kitchen. Rayna followed hastily, but it was too late; he surveyed the wedding paraphernalia as she hung back, feeling like she was about to throw up.
He met her eyes from across the room. There was no need for a single word; the look he gave her said everything.
So you're still marrying him.
She swallowed, the ring on her finger a lead weight.
'Get you a drink Deacon? Water, soda?' Luke asked.
'No, thanks, I really can't stay - I was just droppin' Maddie off.'
'I thought Teddy was doin' that these days.' Luke's cheerful tone betrayed just the smallest hint of tightness. It wasn't lost on Deacon, or on Rayna.
'He got held up at work.' He moved towards the counter, looking at Rayna pointedly as he leaned against it just where she had done that night. She watched as though in slow motion as he picked up the scrap of blue silk that was draped over the edge. He held it up between his fingers, raising an eyebrow at her. 'I see your weddin' plans are comin' along.'
Tandy, sensing the intense awkwardness in the room, put down her glass of Chablis and crossed to Deacon, plucking the garter from him. 'I should probably... put that away.'
Rayna wished she'd burn it.
'I gotta go,' Deacon said, nodding at her and heading towards the hall. 'You should talk to our daughter.'
He closed the door so quietly she didn't even hear him leave.
#
That night, while Luke brushed his teeth with the bathroom door half open, Rayna pulled Deacon's ring out of the place it had lived throughout her entire relationship with Teddy, her mother's jewellery box in the bottom drawer of her bedside table. All those years and it had been right there, right next to where they slept, the third person in their marriage never far from her.
Was that how it was going to be for the next fifteen years too?
She turned it over in her hand a few times, slipping it onto the tip of her finger and no further. It could go no further.
The water in the bathroom stopped, and Rayna put the ring back quickly, easing herself into bed and pulling the covers up.
'I feel like it's been forever since we got some alone time,' Luke said, sliding in next to her and wrapping her in his arms. He smelled of toothpaste and soap, comforting things she knew well. She thought about lying here with Deacon. Being in bed with Deacon smelled like sex and paper, the tang of ink from half-dried words. 'I've hardly seen you since I put this on your finger,' Luke said. She watched as he toyed with the diamond that was sparkling in the light from the lamp on his side of the bed.
'I know,' she said softly. 'I'm sorry.'
'It's okay.' He offered her that smile that made her feel like maybe everything really could be okay. Funny how he could do that.
'No, it's really not okay. I've been burying myself in my work and I...' She stopped, running a hand over his arm. It was time; time to run, or time to stop. It was a decision. 'I love you,' she said.
She better make it fast.
Luke lifted his hand to her face and smoothed his thumb over her cheek. 'I was gonna ask you earlier, but then Deacon showed up, and... I never got the chance.'
'Yeah?'
He looked her in the eye and there it was, the hint of insecurity she'd been trying not to see, that she knew had flared up as he'd watched her face pale when Deacon had left. 'Now we're gettin' hitched an' all, you an' me, and we're gonna be a family... I think we should move in together Rayna.'
