AN: I had more chapters planned for this story but I'm going to end it here for now. Thank you for reading.

Juliette set her phone on the table and tapped the screen with her fingertips. Tears had already flooded her eyes, but she blinked them away when she noticed Cadence peering at her over the top of the book she was reading.

"Mama?"

"It's okay, baby. Can you keep an eye on your sisters for me?" She glanced at her younger daughters, both of them sprawled on the floor, tuned into a silly cartoon. Satisfied that they were all occupied she left the room, allowing the tears to return to her eyes when she was safely in the hallway. Every step took her closer to Avery, closer to devastating him with what she had to tell him. She paused outside the office doors, watching him through the glass.

He'd slipped out of bed early, long before the sun came up. Juliette barely remembered him kissing her behind the ear, whispering something about writing. She knew he was working on something, had lately been in his head so much that the day before she'd twice had to snap her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. She'd nodded sleepily and may have even shooed him away before rolling to his side of the bed, snuggling into the warmth where his body had been.

Juliette understood her husband and so she kept the kids out of his hair, brought him breakfast and coffee and a kiss but didn't linger. Avery needed the quiet and the time so she cleared the space for him; it was what they did for each other, part of the burden of being married to another artist. She didn't even know what he was working on but it had been dogging him for days.

The plan had been to take the kids and Trout down to the pond, get them out of the house so they could run and laugh and be as loud as they wanted and also give Avery the silence he needed. She'd been packing snacks, just about to round them up when her phone rang.

She watched him as he hunched over his desk, his pencil moving steadily across a lined page. Juliette's lips lifted in a slight smile; he always did that, pencil for the first draft, blue ink for the ones beyond that. Her smile faded as she quickly wiped her face and raised her hand to knock on the door. For a second she thought about giving him more time, knowing that what she had to tell him would change everything and he likely wouldn't get any work done for a while. She couldn't though. He had to know.

Avery didn't even raise his head, just waved his hand, motioning for her to leave. I'm sorry, babe. It's gotta be now. She knocked again, letting her knuckles hit the glass with a little more urgency.

Avery could see Juliette peripherally, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. It wasn't locked, but he knew she was silently asking for permission to interrupt. He sighed and lifted his head, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice as he spoke loud enough for her to hear through the door. "What, babe?"

She came inside, apologizing as she closed the door behind her. "We need to talk."

"Now?" He spun his chair around to face her, gesturing towards his notebook. "It can't wait?"

Juliette stepped closer and knelt, resting both her hands on his knees. "No, it can't, baby. I'm sorry."

She was close enough that Avery could see that her eyelashes were wet as if she'd been crying. "Juliette, what's wrong?" His irritation disappeared and he cupped her face, thumbing her cheek. "The girls okay?"

She nodded, turning her head to kiss the palm of his hand. "Your mom called, Avery. It's your dad."

His wife kept talking but he could only process bits of what she was saying. His brain could only latch onto a few words - hospital, heart, gone. Avery pushed his chair away, rolling across the wooden floor so fast Juliette stumbled and had to catch herself before she fell. He stared at her for almost a full minute, desperately trying to make sense of what she'd said. Hospital. Heart.

Juliette slowly got to her feet and took a cautious step closer.

Gone. Avery blinked and shot to his feet, grabbing the notes and papers scattered on his desk and stacked them into a pile. "I've gotta finish this." He checked under the floor, blindly reaching for his messenger bag and then shoving everything inside. "I need to get those tracks back to Gunnar. I was supposed to meet Deacon tomorrow. Have to pack." The words weren't for Juliette or for himself. Just sounds in a stunned room. He moved things from one side of his desk to the other, knocked a stapler on its side, jammed a handful of stray pens and pencils into the holder. He felt her hand on his bicep and finally stopped his frantic movements and planted his palms on the desk. "Trout." He turned to her, barely comprehending the confusion and concern in the furrow of her eyebrows. "What should we do about the dog?" His lips were quivering as he asked the question and he looked away, over to the large window facing the backyard. It was a sunny day, cloudless and warm. He had a view of the pond, the sloping land in between and nearer to the house, the gabled roof of the playhouse. The playhouse he and his father had built not too long ago. Avery put weight on his wrists, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as those memories rushed at him. How much he hadn't wanted to work with his father, how uncomfortable he'd felt fiddling with measurements, blueprints and planks of wood. The sense of accomplishment and pride he felt when the damn thing was finally done and his father clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good job, Son," he'd said. Avery had never heard that from his father. Not in all the years he could remember. And now he never would again.

Juliette gently maneuvered Avery back to his chair and pushed him down to sit. His shoulders shook as he cried and his fingers moved restlessly, grasping at the air until he put his hands on her waist and pulled her in close, burying his face in her stomach.

"Avery, I'm so sorry." She ran fingers through his dark hair, murmuring her love to him as he sobbed against her. His reaction had scared her at first. She'd thought he was going to have a panic attack and she was almost positive he hadn't heard her saying his name. She knew well the pain he was in and she'd have taken it all to spare him. But she couldn't and so she stood, holding him and allowing his heart and mind time to accept the news. When he finally sat back in the chair he kept his hands on her as if he needed something to hold on to.

"I need to call Mom." He choked the words out, looking up at her with tears running down his cheeks.

Juliette nodded but didn't step away. She wouldn't until he was ready to let her go. "I'll get the girls and start getting some things packed." Her mind was already on the next steps - funeral clothes, letting Glenn and Rayna know. Somebody'd have to take the dog. She needed to ask Emily to book them a flight. The sooner they got to his mother the better.

Avery shifted, letting his hands fall to his lap. "Did you tell the girls?"

"No, of course not. Not without you."

He all but crumbled in the chair, covering his face with a hand. "God, how do we tell them he's..."

The words were muffled but she understood and she knelt again, taking both his hands in hers. "Together. We tell them together, baby."

His sister showed up the night before the service, but only after Avery had begged, for their mother if nothing else. Juliette understood what it was like to have a difficult relationship with a parent but she couldn't imagine not wanting to say a final goodbye.

Bren lived in Canada and had only visited Nashville a few times over the years. She shared Avery's dark hair and blue eyes and Juliette thought Melody would look just like her aunt when she grew up. When she was with them Bren was warm and bubbly, doting on her nieces and spoiling them with gifts but she seemed resigned to her estrangement from their parents and had steadfastly refused Avery's many attempts to get her to contact them. His sister and father had never reconciled, never gotten over past hurts and now it was too late.

Avery's mother had been so happy to see her daughter she couldn't stop crying. The girls spent a little time with their aunt before Juliette took them off to bed and the three Barkleys stayed up late that night, talking and mending fences.

Juliette read as she waited for Avery to come to bed but Cadence was the one who pushed open his old bedroom door and snuck in the small bed with her. She put her arms around her mother's waist and confessed that she was scared to go to the funeral. Their 10 year old had insisted on going and Avery was for it even though Juliette had her doubts.

"I want to say goodbye but I'm scared of what he'll look like." Cadence sniffed and tightened her arm around her mother.

Juliette brushed her daughter's hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. "Baby girl, you don't have to go if you don't want to. You can stay here with Melody and Song. If you say goodbye at the gravesite the casket will already be closed."

"But will he know?" Cadence whispered. "Will he be sad if I don't go?"

"He won't be sad, honey. Papa loved you. He'll understand."

"I wanted to give him this." Cadence opened her palm, revealing a wallet-sized picture. She'd been a toddler, running and giggling through her grandparent's living room like a little wild thing. Avery's father had been chasing her, had caught her around the waist and lifted her up in the air. Avery'd taken the picture right at that moment, catching both of them in the middle of their laughter.

Juliette kissed her daughter again, squeezing her eyes shut against the burn of tears. "I can take it," she promised, taking the photo. It was curled on the ends, still warm from where Cadence had been clutching it. "I'll make sure he gets it."

In all honesty, Juliette was relieved that Cadence had decided to stay at her grandparents' house with one of Avery's cousins. She would have supported her daughter's decision to attend the funeral but since she had changed her mind, Juliette could focus all her attention on her husband. Her mother-in-law was holding up well, better than she would have been if Avery had dropped dead of a heart attack in their living room after Sunday breakfast.

Avery though...she hadn't seen him cry since the morning she'd had to break the news to him and since they'd arrived at his parents' he'd been busy with the arrangements and looking after his mother. He wasn't interested in talking about his father's death beyond the practical but he'd made love to her every night. It was a toss up as to whether he'd come to her full of tenderness or if he'd be desperate, fucking her as if he wanted to crawl inside of her and take shelter from the world. She didn't push for conversation, figuring he was using his body to express the grief he couldn't yet speak and so she gave what she got, matching his mood and holding him afterwards.

The morning of the funeral he wanted her again, despite having come to bed late and despite the fact that they hadn't gone to sleep until several hours after that. There was little time to cuddle afterwards, the house was already awake and they both knew it'd be a long day. She sat up, searching the blankets for the T-shirt that had gotten tossed to the side during the night.

Avery traced the length of her spine with a finger. "I haven't even asked you how you're doing."

There was a note of guilt in his tone that made her turn around to face him. "I'm all right, Avery. Hurting for you and the girls. They adored your dad and he loved them so much."

"He loved you too," Avery said, his fingers still on her hip.

"I think we grew on each other eventually. I'm glad we made amends."

His eyes flicked to hers then, holding her in his gaze. "I need you, baby."

"I know." She moved so she could kiss his forehead, his blue eyes wet with grief, his mouth. "I'm here. I'll always be here."