The secrets I have kept / The nights I haven't slept / I've laughed until I've wept / Tryin' to love you
When he thought about his life with Rayna, he tried not to dwell on the bad times. The times he was drunk, the times he disappointed her, the times she sent him to rehab – sometimes with encouragement and later with anger and hurt. Towards the end of their relationship he'd started having blackouts and there were huge holes where he couldn't remember what he'd done or who he'd been with or what he'd said. He didn't remember a lot of the good times either. A night of heavy drinking could erase whatever happened when he was sober. Coleman had told him that he'd wrecked Rayna's apartment before he'd gone to rehab that last time, but he didn't remember. He'd woken up in jail and didn't know why. The only thing that mattered to him was that he hadn't hurt Rayna.
He still couldn't believe Rayna had ever been interested in him in the first place. He was a poor country boy with a bad past. She was a pampered princess from Belle Meade. Although she didn't come across that way, she still had that upbringing, all manners and privilege and wealth. The complete opposite of him. What they shared was the music. It was always what had bound them together. Out of the music had come their love for each other.
She was always the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her reddish-blonde hair, those long legs, her gorgeous body. He loved to see her smile, listen to her laugh. She had a surprisingly bawdy sense of humor, but she was also incredibly caring and nurturing. For someone from her background, she was incredibly down to earth. She could also be so naïve about some things, yet wicked smart about others. He loved hearing her stand up for herself with record executives, hold her own with radio personalities, and be warm and engaging with her fans. He was always so proud of her. Proud to be with her.
It had started for him, of course, the moment he saw her. She said it had for her too, although he was never sure he quite believed that. But he did know that when they did come together as a couple, it was big and it was explosive. And it never stopped being that way. Maybe it was because they were both just passionate people anyway, but they both fought and loved with nothing held back.
They had started writing songs together, songs that always seemed to have double meanings, that, in the months before they became a couple, were always on the edge of being full on love songs to each other. Eventually their songs were love songs, the way that they spoke to each other on stage. As he thought back over all the songs they'd written, so many of them told their history, the good with the bad. "The End of the Day" had been something he'd written before going into rehab the second time, his promise that things would be different, asking her not to give up on him. "No One Will Ever Love You" was probably the most personal song they'd ever written, from a time when all they had was each other. Even after Rayna married Teddy, they still wrote together. And though the words were less obvious in their meaning, the feelings were always there.
Music was one of the ways they spoke to each other. It was rare for either one to write all the words; it was always a collaboration. He thought what they came up with together was better than what they wrote separately, but Rayna always loved the songs that he wrote. She convinced him to record his own album and had badgered Watty into producing it. But he had never liked the spotlight and didn't like the interviews and radio shows that were required to promote an album, and so it quickly faded into oblivion.
The other way they communicated was in the bedroom. No, that wasn't entirely correct. It didn't take much for him to get turned on by her and vice versa. So their lovemaking could happen anywhere, and often did. He loved when she whispered in his ear to join her in the bathroom or in an empty closet, or the backseat of a car. He loved touching her when they were in public, in secretive ways that would make her smile or gasp or even moan a little. But as much as he loved the physical aspect of sex with Rayna, what he loved most was the feeling of being safe and being loved. She was so much better at that than he was.
In the years before Rayna hit it big, they were almost always on the road. Watty fronted them the money for a bus and had it outfitted with bunks for the band and a small enclosed bunk for Rayna. Travelling that way certainly brought the whole band closer together, both in proximity as well as in friendship. So although the other members of the band couldn't help but notice, no one mentioned Deacon sneaking into Rayna's small room when he thought the rest of the group were asleep.
What he remembered most about those days were the pillows. Rayna had lots and lots of pillows. Mainly so they could muffle their voices and their moans during the night. He was pretty sure they weren't fooling anyone, but it made them feel better.
They played in hundreds of honky tonks and dive bars across the country. Sometimes the crowds were small, sometimes they would have a packed house. It wasn't unusual for the crowds to get rowdy and, since Rayna was beautiful and had a sexy look, there were lots of catcalls and men getting grabby. There were plenty of nights that Deacon would go after someone, or multiple someones, for trying to grab Rayna's ass or for yelling at her to show them her tits. But other than that, the life they had was perfect for them. They wrote songs by day, played a show and often two most every night, and then made love as the bus headed from one town to the next. The rare breaks they had in Nashville were treasured times, where they could relax and be together.
Those were some of the best days of his life. When it was all about the music and about each other. Before the drinking started to get in the way. Before life got so complicated for them. He remembered Bucky coming to the apartment early one morning. Deacon was beyond annoyed that Bucky had shown up so early. He'd been Rayna's manager for several years and had done a great job getting her better and better gigs. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Deacon looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which in fact he had, at Bucky's insistent knocking. Deacon had glared at him when he insisted he needed to see Rayna. She had come out of the bedroom pulling her robe tight around her, her hair messy and her eyes half closed. But they had snapped wide open, as had Deacon's, when he told them she would be opening for George Strait in forty arena shows. The three of them opened a bottle of whiskey and drank shots to celebrate. After Bucky left, Rayna had walked back over and straddled Deacon's lap, making love to him right there at the kitchen table.
He loved writing songs with her. When he'd first met her, he was surprised at how good her lyrics were. Her melodies were not very sophisticated or nuanced, and that was what Watty thought Deacon could help her with. He'd lost count of how many hit songs they'd written, how many number ones. The songs they wrote when they were still together were always so personal, about good times and about struggles. After Rayna married Teddy, Deacon wondered if they'd ever write together again. He wasn't sure what they would write about. He kept writing, mostly songs about her, about missing her, or hating her, or struggling to move on without her. Then one day, when they were on the first tour after Maddie was born, she had come and asked him to write with her.
Everything about it was different. They sat on the bus, next to each other, and talked out the lyrics, with Deacon working on melodies. That much was the same as before. But the lyrics in those days were not as personal, they were about pain and struggle and freedom and joy, but not written for each other. And there were no stolen kisses or touches and certainly no racing back to Rayna's room for sex. Deacon didn't like what they were writing then and Rayna didn't seem happy with it either. It took them a while to develop a new rhythm. Eventually things clicked again with respect to the joining of the words and the music, if not the joining of them.
After Daphne was born, things seemed to change. Deacon would push a little harder with a phrase or two that had a double meaning. Rayna would consider it and then smile shyly and add it. They found a place where they could write about their feelings without it being as obvious as it had in the beginning. When they found that balance, her records sold better, she had more number ones, and she won more awards.
A lot of songs were permanently off the playlist, once Rayna married Teddy. But then there was that night at The Bluebird, when she actually showed up to hear him play. She knew he played every third Thursday and he occasionally would ask her to come, but she never did. He knew it brought back memories. Hell, it did for him too. But that night she came. He saw her standing next to Erika and suddenly he felt a cloud lift from over him. He'd actually felt joy. He knew, when she left, she'd go home to Teddy, but she'd come to hear him play. Finally. And so, he put her on the spot and he asked her to come up and sing with him.
When she sat down, he leaned in and told her he wanted to do "No One Will Ever Love You." It was their most popular song and, since she was there, it seemed only right that they should sing that. She gave him a look that said it probably wasn't wise, but then she nodded and they sang that song they hadn't sung in well over a decade. When they caught each other's eyes, it was so obvious that the feelings between them had not died. Deacon knew his hadn't, but he wasn't always sure about hers. But he saw in her eyes that night that she still loved him, that she had always loved him. And when they finished, although she smiled, her eyes said it was a mistake. Without even thinking, he'd grabbed her hand. He could feel her resist for a moment, but he held fast.
She'd gotten in his truck with him after the show, not saying a word. He realized that he'd put her in a terrible position and that he'd been selfish about it. But he loved her. He would never not love her. He needed her to know that, no matter what happened after. I wish we hadn't done that song. When he'd asked her what they were going to do next, she'd been silent for a long moment, struggling with her emotions. Then she got out of the truck and left.
Deacon felt his breath hitch as he thought about the good times. He had screwed that up. It was when Rayna finally got her own tour that his drinking started to get out of control. And not long before he went to rehab that first time.
He couldn't believe she'd sent him to rehab five times. Five times! As embarrassing as that was for him – the number of times, the public perception that he couldn't stay sober – it was worse for her. Tandy and Lamar certainly didn't support her and he was sure she got an earful from Bucky as well. But the whispers in the music community were the worst. That he was a liability, that she was a fool to keep him around and waste her money on him, that he was destroying her. Until that last time, when she sent Coleman to take him to rehab, he had always thought she supported him. He knew she'd put her career on the line for him. He felt tears track down his face. His life had been a mess and she was the only one that had helped him even half way hold it together. Long after she should have. And now look what he'd done to her.
It turned out that Rayna's big break was that opening act gig for George Strait. It was nice to finally get to stay in hotels instead of on the bus, although admittedly the hotels were barely a step above a Motel 6. But not having to share the space with the rest of the band felt good. Being an opening act meant decent money, but certainly a long way from the headliner stratosphere. Still, it got Rayna recognized and helped sell her "Like An Angel" album. In between shows, she did the interview circuit on country music stations across the country. Most times Deacon went with her, but there were times when he was so hung over he couldn't get out of bed. Even then, he remembered her slightly disapproving look before she'd head off, and he would vow not to let it happen again. But it did.
They started a ritual back then, one that continued until the day Rayna fired him the last time. They had walked out on the stage at the United Center in Chicago for that first show with George. They were both overwhelmed by the size of the arena and the fact that, when the lights were on, you couldn't even see the seats. They had no idea what it looked like on the stage from way up in the far reaches of the arena. It had been Deacon's idea to go up there to see what it was like. So during George's sound check, they did just that. Rayna had been shocked by how far away the stage seemed. Deacon had commented that you could barely make out that George was even George, other than from the big screens. They decided that day that they would always go sit in the cheap seats before a show, just to remind themselves of the people who had paid to see them, but were so far away they had to rely on the jumbotrons for the experience. Usually the ritual ended with them making out. Once in a while it went a little further than that, when they were sure they wouldn't be caught. After she married Teddy, they would just talk, but those were always special, intimate moments for the two of them.
He had never really been interested in going out on his own, although Rayna suggested it more than once. She thought he was good enough, but he liked being with her. He was okay with the fact that she was the star; he knew that in every other way they were equals and partners. He didn't need the spotlight. That would mean going out without her and he just wasn't interested. After she had married Teddy and she'd hired him back, he had more time on his hands when they weren't touring. Instead of spending all his time with her, he had time to work on his music and so he wrote. A lot. Most of what he wrote was about her, some of it about lost love, some of it was full of pain and anger. None of it was music she would record, so he started hitting the clubs and honky tonks around Nashville again. He had a standing gig every third Thursday at The Bluebird, but he played somewhere most nights he was off the road. Occasionally it made him think about going out on his own, but he had never been able to sever the ties he and Rayna had, even though she was married and raising a family. And truthfully, she had never been able to let him go either.
The guard came to take him to the infirmary and the doctor gave a cursory check of his hand. It was still stiff and painful, but Deacon didn't mention it, even when the doctor asked. He was pretty sure that he would never be able to play the guitar again and he was okay with that. If he ended up in prison for ten to thirty years – what Megan said the sentence was for involuntary manslaughter – he wouldn't need to worry about it anyway. When he got back to his cell, he carefully removed the sling and, holding his wrist and hand carefully, he laid down on the bunk and closed his eyes. The bad part about being locked away was that he had nothing but time on his hands. And with time came memories, most of them painful.
It didn't happen all at once. The drinking. The pills. But once it started, he went downhill fast. Things got worse when he met Vince, but he didn't blame Vince. He was just the catalyst. Vince liked to drink, but Vince was usually just a boisterous drunk and then he'd pass out. He never caused trouble, never got in a fight, and until the night he died, usually was too wasted to get near a car to drive.
By the time Deacon was twenty-three his drinking was out of control. Although she had tried, Rayna couldn't handle him when he was at his worst. So she got him to agree to rehab. He'd felt really bad about the fact that she'd had to do that. He was embarrassed that she'd had to. So he'd promised her that he would stay sober. But he couldn't. Which started the cycle he found himself in for the next seven years, until he finally figured out how to make it stick.
When he got out of rehab that last time, Coleman was waiting for him. Even though he hadn't heard a word from Rayna the whole time he was there, he was disappointed she wasn't there. He had been at Riverside for six months. After the initial detox period, he spent a lot of time learning how to deal with his addictions and strategies for coping on the outside. It was different from the times he'd gone before. He'd done the thirty day programs and had relapsed quickly. The fourth time Rayna sent him to rehab, it was a three month program, but he'd left after three weeks. He'd been pissed at Rayna for sending him, as though she were shuttling him off so she could date that damn Teddy Conrad. This time Cole had told him he had no choice; he had to stay the full six months. He had resented being sent to such a long term program, as though he were a hard core alcoholic and drug addict, but as time went on he realized that, in fact, that was exactly what he was. The fact that this was his fifth try was the primary signal that he was not your average run-of-the-mill drunk. The program he went through was tough, but he actually felt, when he got out, that he finally could lick this.
When he was in the car with Cole, headed back to Nashville, he had asked about Rayna. Cole told him then that Rayna had married Teddy Conrad, that she was pregnant and due to give birth any day. Deacon fumed at the news and, for a moment, wondered if it had all been worth it to get sober, again, only to find out that Rayna was lost to him. He was hurt that she had obviously not believed in him enough to wait for him, that she had rushed into marriage with Teddy. Based on the date of her wedding, he was able to figure out that she was pregnant when she married Teddy. Even though Rayna had broken up with him long before she started dating Teddy, he somehow felt a little like she had cheated on him. She had never indicated that she was interested in having children when they were together and so he felt a little like he'd been punched in the gut to realize that she had allowed herself to get pregnant by Teddy. Except, of course, he hadn't known that she wasn't pregnant by Teddy at all.
Cole wouldn't let Deacon live on his own when he first got back to Nashville and so he moved into the guest cottage behind Cole and Audrey's house. Rayna had kept up the payments on the East Nashville bungalow and Cole told him that she had transferred the deed to him, so that when he was ready, he would have a place to live. He knew he was being stupid, since she was married and starting a family, but he saw that as a sign that she hadn't given up on him completely. Her being married and getting ready to be a mama might make things more complicated, but he knew in his gut that she still cared about him. That the bond they had couldn't really be broken after all.
Those thirteen years between the time he'd gotten out of rehab the last time and the night of the CMA's when he fell off the wagon were a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences. Staying sober was hard. In the beginning he counted his time in minutes and hours. It was only when he made it a year that he began counting it in days. It still took several years before he didn't think about taking a drink every single day. It was a long time before it became a habit to ask for a club soda or a tonic water. It was a very long time before he could spend time in a bar or at a party with someone else and not crave a glass of whiskey. And even then it was still like his shadow, always with him, something he always had to consciously pay attention to.
It turned out that staying sober was a lot easier than getting his career back on track. He played open mic nights around town and songwriter nights on occasion. Bucky threw him some bones with bands he knew that needed an extra guitar player. He badgered studio managers for any kind of session work. People were skeptical in the beginning. He had a great reputation as a lead guitarist but a shitty reputation for dependability. He even spent time in Muscle Shoals, far enough away that he could get work, but too far from Nashville for his taste.
He was back in Nashville for a recording session with Brooks and Dunn when Watty called him. That was the day he stopped by and Rayna was there with Maddie. It was the first time he'd seen her in over a year. She still looked beautiful to him, but he could see that she looked more relaxed. He'd felt his stomach clench at seeing her, looking so young and pretty and happy. He knew the minute he laid eyes on her that he still loved her. That had not changed, probably would never change. Then he saw the stroller with the baby in it. Rayna's eyes had looked guarded when she saw him and the happy smile that had been on her face while she talked to Watty had faded just a bit. Deacon had turned to leave but Watty waved him in. He had walked hesitantly towards Rayna and looked down at the little girl. She was sleeping, but he could see that she was a pretty thing, with her dark hair and her little yellow dress.
He forgot about Maddie though when Watty told him that Rayna was the one who had wanted to see him. His heart soared for a moment until she told him that the reason she wanted to see him was to invite him back to her band. She would start touring again in a couple months and needed a lead guitar player, if he was willing. They would need to start rehearsals soon. He had hesitated because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to work with her again. That his feelings would get in the way. But she seemed to really want him back and he really needed a steady gig, so he said yes.
The guards hassled him again. It was a little over two weeks since the accident and Rayna was still in a coma. He still got a lot of veiled threats as to what might happen if she didn't pull through. There was a time when he would have turned on a guard and tried to beat him up. It was no different than all the times drunk customers at a bar or a venue would try to feel up Rayna after a show. Or even the time the guys in the audience at The Bluebird gave him crap about not being as good without Rayna. He would always try to protect her. But this time he knew he had failed her. So he waited.