As the days and weeks wore on, their lives became doctor appointments, medications, and escalating symptoms. When Emma thought back on the time leading up to the events that sent them to the ER, she realized that there had been warning signs, but they'd been easily explained away. Deacon had had a number of bad colds that seemed to linger longer than they should have, and then intermittent stomach pain. He'd been more easily fatigued and even sometimes disoriented, forgetting what he was doing in the middle of something or walking into a room and not remembering why he was there. But since it had all coincided with a new baby in the house, it was easy to say it was the stress of that.
While some things had settled down a bit in the aftermath of telling Rayna and Maddie about his illness, Emma found herself getting increasingly troubled by Deacon's seeming acceptance of the worst case scenario. She would find him sorting through boxes or making notes about his possessions. He dutifully took his medications and followed the doctor's orders, but he wouldn't discuss any options other than a liver transplant from a deceased donor. He had been given a high position on the transplant list, because of how advanced his disease was, but so far there had been no matches. The only time she ever saw him smile anymore seemed to be when he was with Abby and, even then, it wasn't a joyful smile.
The day she found him cataloging his guitar collection, she finally broke. She stood in the door of his guitar room and frowned, watching him meticulously making notes in a leather bound notebook. Finally she put her hands on her hips. "Stop it," she said firmly.
He turned to look at her and scowled. "I need to be sure this is all written down," he said, his voice curt.
"No, you don't. You need to stop this incessant 'getting your affairs in order' bullshit."
He put down his pen and stood up. "I don't want to leave things to chance, Emma," he said, his face dark.
She walked over to the notebook and looked at what he had written. Then she made a growling noise and ripped the page out of the notebook and balled it up furiously. "Stop it!" she cried.
He grabbed her hand and pulled the balled up piece of paper away from her. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled.
She looked at him incredulously. "What's the matter with me? What the hell's the matter with you? Why the hell are you giving up?"
He fumed. "I'm not giving up. I'm being practical. I'm preparing, just in case."
"How about preparing to live, Deacon? What if you live? Why not focus on that for a change instead of trying to figure out who gets what if you die? If you die, we'll figure that out then. But I've had enough of this getting ready to die crap." She was starting to cry and she hated him to see her tears. "I'm tired of watching you give up. Why do you want to leave me and Abby?"
He scowled. "I don't want to leave you! But I have to be realistic!"
She threw her hands up in the air. "No, you're not being realistic, you're being fatalistic. Why not be hopeful instead? You need to do everything in your power to survive and you're just not doing that. I can't watch you do this anymore, Deacon. I just can't." She turned and stormed out of the room and headed for the stairs.
He followed her. "Emma!" he shouted after her as he watched her run down the stairs. He headed that way himself. "Emma, come back here!" But she had a head start and as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he heard the door slam shut. "Emma!" he shouted and started towards the door. Then he heard Abby start to cry and he knew he couldn't leave. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, struggling to breathe as both anger and fear raced through him. He looked at the balled up piece of paper he'd taken from her that was still in his hand and he threw it to the floor, shouting out, "Damn it, Emma!"
Then it felt like all the fight had gone out of him. He sagged against the stair rail and breathed in raggedly. He was feeling helpless and hopeless and he realized he was shutting Emma out. His eyes burned as he worked his lip. When she came back, he'd need to make this right. In the meantime, he needed to check on Abby, who was still crying, and he headed for the nursery.
It was over two hours later before Emma came back home. Deacon had changed Abby and then sat with her, first in the rocking chair, and then in the living room. He was worried and anxious and, as time wore on, he got mad again. He'd tried to call Emma, which was when he discovered she'd left without her phone, as it rang on the kitchen counter. Abby had been fussy for the last thirty minutes and nothing he did seemed to help. Emma finally walked through the front door, looking agitated. He was relieved, but also still angry about their fight earlier. "Where have you been?" he asked, a little more harshly than he'd meant to. She frowned at him and, instead of answering, plucked Abby from his arms and started for her nursery. He stood up. "Emma! Talk to me!"
She walked quickly towards the nursery, shrugging off her coat as she went, leaving it lying on the floor. Deacon followed her, picking up the coat as he did. When he got to the nursery, she was sitting in the rocking chair and he walked around to sit on the small chest that sat opposite. He watched as she held Abby in one arm and put a bottle to the baby's mouth, her face screwed up in frustration. When Abby started to suck on the formula, Emma leaned back, sighing deeply, her eyes closed.
Deacon watched for a moment. Normally this was something he enjoyed, watching Emma feed their daughter, but he was still out of sorts at her earlier anger with him. "Emma…." he started.
Her eyes flew open and flashed with anger. "Not now," she said firmly. "I don't need to feel stressed while I feed her. So we'll talk about this later." He sat, frowning at her and working his lip. "Go on, Deacon. I can't calm down if you're going to sit there glaring at me." He scowled, but got up and started to walk out. As he passed her, he paused briefly and laid his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb for just a second. Then he left.
Emma took several deep breaths and then focused on Abby. Luckily, holding the little girl and feeding her was one of her calming rituals anyway and she felt a lot of her anger and irritation melting away as she focused on the baby. After she finished feeding her and then rocked her to sleep, she got up and laid the baby in her crib. She ran her hand gently over Abby's back as she stood watching her for a moment.
Then she walked out to the living room, where Deacon was sitting on the couch, looking sad and remorseful. She stood looking at him for a moment, his eyes seeming to tell her how sorry he was, and that melted her heart. She went to sit next to him and he put his arm around her, pulling her into his side. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered.
She put her arm around his waist. "I know," she said. "I am too. But I really do need you to focus on all your options, hon. I don't understand why you won't even consider a living donor." She could feel him tense up, but then he breathed out.
"I did consider it, Emma. But it's still major surgery for the other person and it's risky. I don't want someone else risking their life for me."
She sat up and looked at him closely. "But what if someone wants to? Please, Deacon, don't shut people out. Can't you at least consider it again?" She reached out and put her hand on his cheek. "I don't want to lose you. I need you."
He grabbed her wrist and breathed in and out slowly. "I don't wanna die," he said, a hitch in his voice. "I'll consider the living donor."
She leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you," she murmured.
As Emma rode up the elevator, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. But she needed someone to talk to. She'd been at the park with Abby and felt so alone. Leah didn't know Deacon, so while she was sympathetic, she didn't understand him. She couldn't saddle Scarlett with this, who was already worried herself. She just hoped this wasn't a bad idea.
Almost as soon as Deacon had agreed to consider a living donor, he'd balked again. Emma was rapidly losing patience with him. The transplant doctor had told them they were getting closer to the point where their options would start to run out. The deceased donor route had continued to be a dead end and Deacon was being stubborn about asking anyone to be a living donor, or to even consider it. She'd cried tears of frustration that day, and even anger.
She knew he was scared. Scared of asking anyone to take that risk for him and scared of dying. She had wanted it to be his choice, but their window of opportunity was narrowing and she decided she had to take matters into her own hands. This was the only thing she could think of to do. And she had to do something. She couldn't sit back and wait any longer for Deacon to snap out of it.
She found the office and walked in. The girl at the front desk looked up. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"I was, uh, hoping to see Rayna Jaymes," Emma said.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Emma shook her head. "I don't. Could you tell her, um, Emma Taylor would like to see her? If she has a minute?" She didn't want to use the Claybourne name in front of all these people.
"Okay. Hold on." She didn't look hopeful but picked up the phone.
Emma walked over to the wall of Rayna Jaymes album covers. She turned at the sound of heels clicking quickly on the floor. Rayna's face looked worried. "Emma? Is everything okay?"
Emma nodded. "I was just hoping you'd have a minute."
"Of course. Come on back." Rayna waited and then followed Emma into her office. She gestured towards a seating area and Emma went to sit, turning Abby's stroller to face her. "Can I get you something to drink?"
Emma shook her head. "I'm fine. Thanks."
Rayna sat next to her. "What's going on?"
Emma sighed. "I just don't have anyone I can talk to that really knows Deacon. I know he's scared and he's trying to be brave, but he's not letting me help him."
Rayna took her hand. "Deacon is a proud man. I know you know that. And he tries to do everything himself, without help. He's always been that way, as long as I've known him. I know he thinks he's sparing you, even though we both know that's not the case."
"It's almost like he's given up. Or at least that he's just going to let what's going to happen, happen. He doesn't want to take help."
"He's gonna have to." She looked down at the baby. "May I hold her?"
Emma nodded. "Sure."
"Does she come to people well?"
Emma smiled. "Better than I'd probably want her to."
Rayna smiled and reached down, unfastening the straps and lifting Abby up and into her arms. She made a face at the baby. "Hey there," she cooed and Abby waved her arms. Rayna looked at Emma. "I can't remember the last time I held a baby. She's precious."
"Thank you."
"She looks like Maddie when she was a baby."
Emma nodded. "I think Abby looks like Deacon. And Maddie does too, so I bet they'll look a lot alike when Abby gets older."
"Sisters," Rayna said softly. She sighed. "Maddie wasn't good with strangers. Except Deacon." Her face was sad for a moment. Then she seemed to shake it off. "I think we just need to take matters into our own hands, where Deacon is concerned. Anyone who wants to get tested will get tested. And when we have a match, we just tell Deacon. He'll get all huffy about it, but he'll get over it. He needs to be around to raise up this little girl." She stopped a moment. When she looked at Emma, there was sadness in her eyes. "I kept him from Maddie for all those years. I can't let that be taken away from him without a fight now."
"I know Scarlett wants to be tested. And me too."
Rayna frowned. "Not you. Your job is to take care of Deacon. And your daughter. Scarlett and me though. We'll get tested."
Emma felt tears spring to her eyes. "Thank you."
Rayna smiled encouragingly. "We're family, Emma. We'll make this happen."
After Emma and Abby left, Rayna sat in her office with the door closed. This was all such a horrible situation. She never thought something like this could happen. When Deacon and Emma had told her about his situation, all she could think about was not losing him. Luke had been sympathetic but had warned her against getting too involved. But it had pulled up all those old feelings, the ones she'd been struggling with ever since Emma had been in Deacon's life.
She hated the feeling of letting him go, had struggled with her emotions as his relationship with Emma had gotten serious, she had gotten pregnant, and they'd gotten married. But faced with the possibility that Deacon could die had left her feeling more frantic. Every time she thought about Deacon and his illness, which was frequently, she felt like she could scarcely breathe. She felt helpless. At times she felt like she could barely function. The only thing keeping her sane right now was helping Maddie deal with it all.
She'd completely screwed up. It was one thing to watch them get married, even though that had felt very final. She'd never considered the possibility that Deacon would ever get married. It was as though she always thought he'd just be there. It had left her off-balance, but his illness had knocked her over. But who would have ever thought that more than seventeen years after getting sober, Deacon would be struck down with liver disease. She could be out of time.
Seeing Emma here, though, and Abby, had rocked her. Deacon was Emma's husband. And Abby's father. Holding that little girl in her arms had been surreal. She'd had such a sense of déjà vu, holding Deacon's daughter, just like she had over seventeen years ago. She had no right to interfere with that. He'd told her, more than once, that he had moved on, that Emma was his present and his future. He'd been her future once, before she'd traded it for a seven-carat diamond ring and access to the publicity machine that had propelled her to heights she and Deacon had never even imagined all those years ago.
And she was happy, wasn't she? Luke spoiled her, giving her anything she wanted. He was an attentive, caring lover who, truthfully, did excite her. She couldn't deny that, when he touched her, she felt a tingly wonderfulness. But he could also be mean and spiteful, condescending and overbearing. And he didn't understand the pull of the music for her. He loved to perform in front of a crowd, but it wasn't the essence of him the way it was for her. The way it was for Deacon.
She'd had a hard time thinking she and Deacon were ever really over, though. Even when he'd told her it was too late. Everything had been too intense, too connected, for it to ever be completely over. Right? And yet, this felt like a wakeup call. She knew that a transplant would save him, that he was being stoic and stubborn because that's who he was. But she wasn't going to let him be a martyr, because it couldn't be over. It couldn't be too late.
Except he's hers now. And it is too late.
Emma smiled as Deacon walked back in the bedroom with Abby. She sat up as he approached the bed and handed the baby to her. He walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in. They cuddled up together with Abby in between them. She grabbed Abby's little hands and leaned down to plant little feathery kisses all over the little girl's face. She smiled as Abby cooed happily, squirming and waving her tiny legs.
Emma looked up to see Deacon's eyes focused on her, full of sadness and regret. She felt her chest tighten. He stroked her cheek with his finger, then lowered it to Abby's tiny hand. The baby latched on and held tightly. Deacon breathed in. "How many more times will I get to do this?" he asked.
She ran her fingers lightly over Abby's chest. "Lots," she whispered. She was nervous, waiting for the results of the liver compatibility tests Rayna and Scarlett were undergoing. If neither of them were a match, they'd have to finally tell others about Deacon's situation, in hopes of finding a match. She was determined that they weren't going to just passively wait for a deceased donor. She worried that he'd be angry when he found out what they'd done, but she couldn't let him just accept such a dire prognosis when a transplant could make it all moot.
It was times like these when she missed her parents the most, especially her mom. Gail Taylor would have known the right thing to do. Somehow, though, she thought her mother would approve of this.
She reached up and smoothed Deacon's hair off his forehead. "I love mornings like this," she said.
He smiled. "Me too." He let out a small laugh. "I remember when Maddie was little and out on the road with Rayna. She was always fussy. Abby's so different."
Emma grinned. "She is a good baby. Which makes me happy."
Deacon detached his finger from Abby's grip and leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind Emma's ear and kissing her. "You make me happy," he said, sadness creeping back into his eyes.
Emma felt like she was going to cry but she breathed in and out, willing herself to stay calm. "We're going to beat this, I know it," she said. "Don't give up. Please."
Deacon worked his lip. "I'm just trying to be realistic. Not to have false hope."
"You need to let us help. The people that love you."
He scowled and shook his head. "I don't want to put anyone else at risk."
Emma sighed. "I know you don't. But I don't think that's totally your call to make. If someone wants to do it, you can't shut them down. You just have to be gracious and accept it."
Deacon huffed. "I'm always gracious."
Emma laughed. "No, you're not. You want to take everything on yourself and shut everyone out. I think you'd shut me out if you could." She turned serious. "But this is life or death, Deacon. And you can't be selfish about it. If it was just you, that would be one thing. But it's not. It's Abby and Maddie. And me. And Scarlett. We get a say. And we say life."
Deacon frowned. Then his eyes got that haunted look. "I don't want to leave you," he said sadly.
Emma's gaze turned steely. "Then don't. I'm fighting for you. I need you to fight for yourself."
Deacon looked down at Abby, who had been squirming and waving her hands and feet. He sighed. "It feels like you've already taken things in your own hands," he said, not looking at her.
Emma took a deep breath. "I have. But only because you wouldn't." She was silent for a moment, watching him as he grabbed at Abby's hands. "Don't be mad," she said softly.
He looked up at her. "I can't be mad at you. God knows, I don't want to not be here for you and for Maddie and Abby. So yeah, I'm going to fight. I want to be here for the long haul."
She smiled. "That's the plan. For you to be here. So let's see what happens." She truly hoped Scarlett was a match. She didn't want it to be Rayna, for purely selfish reasons. But she wanted her husband to live, so she was prepared, no matter what the outcome.
Before Deacon's appointment with Dr. Wright, he and Emma stopped for lunch at The Tavern. Deacon got a burger and just picked at it. Emma had a salad, but ended up reaching for some of the fries Deacon was ignoring. As the weeks had passed, his appetite had waned and he'd probably lost ten pounds, which concerned Emma. His fatigue had worsened. She felt bad about it, but she'd started hovering anytime he picked up Abby. He would usually scowl at her, when he noticed her doing it, but he would mostly just sit in the rocking chair with the baby.
There had still been no match from the registry. Rayna had not been a match, which had been disheartening for her, but Emma couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Scarlett had been an initial match and had been going through additional testing. Deacon had had mixed feelings about that and Emma knew that in his heart, he was hoping she would not turn out to be a match either, only because he loved her like a daughter and he was as protective of her as he was Maddie and Abby.
Emma reached across the table and took Deacon's hand. He looked at her, his eyes dull and tired. "Maybe today will be the day," she said, with a hopeful smile. He merely nodded. "How are you feeling?"
He frowned. "Like shit. Like every damn day. My fucking new normal." His tone was brittle and harsh.
She took a deep breath and willed herself to push down her irritation. That was another thing that had gotten worse – his attitude. More often than not, he was unpleasant to be around, but she knew he was in a fair amount of discomfort and pain and she tried to be patient with him. "Maybe Dr. Wright can adjust your medication," she said quietly, pulling her hand away and looking down at her plate.
He reached out and quickly grabbed her hand back. When she looked up, she saw sorrow in his eyes. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I know I'm not much fun to be around right now. I don't mean to take it out on you."
She squeezed his hand. "I know. I just wish there was something I could do. That we'd hear some good news." He didn't look hopeful, though, and she felt a pang of anguish. This was so hard and, although she prayed every day and she kept trying to be hopeful, every day that passed without good news felt like it was slowly tearing her apart. Deep down inside her, a gnawing fear was starting to take hold, that no suitable donor would be found. It made her nauseous.
After they finished lunch, they headed for Vanderbilt. It scared her, how weak Deacon looked. When they got out of the car and started across the parking lot, he stumbled, grabbing on to her. She almost fell to the ground under his weight, but managed to steady herself, and him, and they stood there for long minutes, breathing hard. She felt her heart racing and she was sure he was feeling the same. They made it inside with no further issue, but he sat down hard in a chair in the waiting room, so she knew he was still shaky.
Dr. Wright was running a little behind, so they sat quietly, just holding hands. Deacon leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed and Emma kept cutting her eyes over to him to see how he was doing. Finally the nurse called them back and Deacon slowly pushed himself up from the chair, with Emma holding on to his arm. For a minute, it seemed like he was going to shake her off, but then he didn't. She knew it was hard for him to accept help and her heart broke for him.
When Dr. Wright came in his office, he had a smile on his face. "I have some good news," he said. "We have a match."
"Scarlett?" Emma asked.
Dr. Wright nodded. "Yes, Scarlett. Everything came back perfectly and she's signed the consent form for surgery. All that's left now is for us to get Deacon's surgery date set and we can move forward."
Emma looked over at Deacon. His eyes were moist and he was working his lip. She knew he was both happy and scared. She smiled, her own eyes wet with tears. "You're gonna beat this, hon," she said, grabbing his hand. "Everything's gonna be okay."
He sighed and looked at her. "I don't want Scarlett to do this. What if something happens to her?"
Dr. Wright leaned forward, his hands folded in front of him on his desk. "Deacon, while I know I told you this is major surgery, with all the risks associated with that, Scarlett is young and healthy and there's no reason to believe that she won't come out of this just fine. She'll recover and you'll have a healthy liver and you'll be able to live a long, fulfilling life. I know she's your niece and you're worried about her, but she'll be in excellent hands with us. We will take especially good care of her." He smiled at the two of them. "She's very excited to be able to do this for you."
Emma just sat there, feeling all the fear and anxiety melt away. There was still Deacon's surgery to think about and his recovery, but just the idea that they could say the word 'recovery' was the most beautiful word she could think of right then. She turned to him and smiled. "It's gonna be okay," she said. "You're gonna be okay."
He looked at her, tears glistening in his eyes, and just nodded. He clenched her hand tightly. As much as he hadn't wanted Scarlett to take such a risk, all he could feel right at that moment was gratitude. She was giving him the chance to have the life he'd wanted, with Emma and Maddie and Abby.
It was a rare good day for Deacon. He'd slept well the night before and felt more normal than he'd felt in a while. He'd even made breakfast that morning, much to Emma's delight. She had taken Abby for a walk, something he wished he could do with them, but he just didn't have the stamina these days. Even on a day like this. He was working on a song, something he hadn't felt like doing in a while, and that felt good. His surgery was in five days and, although he was feeling anxious about it, he was also ready.
At the knock on the door, he set aside his guitar and got up. When he opened the door, Scarlett was standing there holding a covered plate. "Hey there," she said with a big grin.
He smiled back at her. "Hey, Scar. Come on in." He stepped back so she could walk in and then he shut the door behind her.
She reached in for a hug. "How you doing today?" she asked him.
"Today's a good day," he said.
She held out the plate. "I made cookies. Your favorite. Maybe you'll feel like eating one then," she said.
He took the plate and peered under the aluminum foil. He smiled. "Oatmeal cookies."
"With coconut in them. Just the way you like them."
He grinned. "Well, come sit down and I promise I'll eat one." They sat on the couch and he took a cookie, surprising himself by eating all of it. "That was good," he said.
"They're all yours," she said with a smile. Then her face turned serious. "You ready for next week?"
He nodded. "You?"
She nodded as well. "Thank you for letting me do this for you, Deacon," she said earnestly. "I'm so glad I could do it. I just couldn't let you sit and wait."
He took a deep breath, his eyes sad. "I wish it hadn't come to this, to be honest. Part of me feels like I don't deserve this."
She frowned. "Of course you deserve this. Why would you say that?"
He shook his head. "I did this to myself. I was a drunk. A bad drunk. For a lotta years. Everybody told me I was gonna kill myself drinking and I pretty near did." He rubbed his face with his hands. "It's so unfair to Emma. She wasn't part of any of this, but she's having to deal with all of it now."
"But she loves you, Deacon. She'd do anything to help you."
His eyes glistened with tears. "But she didn't sign on for this. I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd taken Abby and walked away."
Scarlett gasped and reached out to grab his arm. "She would never have done that, Deacon. You know that. And now you know that you're gonna be okay."
"I shouldn't have let you do this."
She fixed him with a steely gaze. "There wasn't anything you could've done about it. I didn't care if you wanted me to or not, I was doing it anyway. You've been like a father to me, Deacon. I couldn't let anything happen to you." Her eyes filled with tears and Deacon reached out to draw her into an embrace. "I couldn't have let you just die," she said, with a sob.
He hugged her close, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart, for what you're doing. I'm forever in your debt."
Maddie waved to Teddy when she got to the door. It took a couple minutes for Deacon to answer and she felt her stomach clench when he finally did. He looked like he'd just woken up, his hair hanging over his forehead and his clothes wrinkled. But he smiled warmly as he propped himself up with the door. "Hey, Maddie," he said, his voice thready. "Come on in."
She walked in and then turned to look at him. "You look like you don't feel so hot," she said. "I don't have to stay."
He shook his head and coughed. "I'm not feeling tip top, but I just woke up, so it's not as bad as it looks." He shuffled over to the couch and sat down. He looked around and frowned. "Where's your guitar?"
She lowered herself onto the couch and leaned in to hug him. "I just wanted to hang out with you today," she said. She felt a chill run through her at how thin he felt. "Are Emma and Abby here?"
"Not right now. They're at Scarlett's. I think Scarlett's making some kind of casserole for Emma to bring home. Which she doesn't need to do, but that's Scarlett." He put his arm around her. "I'm glad we have some alone time."
Maddie smiled. "Me too." She looked at him carefully. "How do you feel?"
He chuckled softly. "I've been better. But I've been worse too. Nothing for you to worry about though."
"You sure? Because you're looking rough."
He smiled sadly, his eyes tearing up. "Don't worry about me, sweet girl. In two days, I go to the hospital and then I get the transplant and they tell me I'm supposed to be right as rain after that."
"I hope so. I don't like seeing you sick."
He squeezed her shoulder. "Me either. It's not fun. I can't hold Abby and I can't play the guitar with you." He smiled at her. "I miss that."
Maddie sighed. "I know." She leaned back against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're having the surgery, Dad. When I thought you might not be around, all I could think about was how unfair that was. You wouldn't have been my dad long enough. And that would totally suck."
"Yeah, that's true." Deacon worked his lip for a moment. "I feel like I can be straight with you." Maddie turned to look at him. "When I first found out about this, I was scared. And pissed. My life had been a mess when I was drinking. I screwed up so many things back then. I ruined my life, I ruined your mama's life, I couldn't control any of it. Everybody told me back then that my drinking would kill me one day. But I think they thought I'd drink myself to death or I'd kill myself in a car crash or something like that. I never thought I'd get sick. I never knew about this, cirrhosis. But here we are.
"At first, I thought I deserved this. That all my choices came with a price and this was mine. Everybody tried to tell me I was wrong, but it was hard for me to believe that. Y'all were all trying to tell me that it wasn't over, that my life wasn't finished, but it was hard to listen. I hope you never go through anything like this, Maddie, but when someone, a doctor, tells you that you don't have long to live, it's a kick to the gut. And even when they tell you there's a chance, you wonder if it'll really happen for you.
"All these people in my life, though, they wouldn't let me sit around and wallow in it for long. And then finally I looked around and I saw you and Abby. And Emma. And Scarlett. The people I love most. And I didn't want to leave." His voice trailed off and he breathed in slowly. He looked at Maddie, finally, his eyes red with unshed tears and a deep, abiding sadness in his face. "I love you and Abby and Emma and Scarlett. More than anything. All of this that I'm having to go through sucks. I feel worse than I ever felt in my entire life, and that includes some pretty bad hangovers. But I have just two more days and then they tell me that I'll start to feel better every day instead of worse every day.
"I'm scared. I'm scared for Scarlett. But I have to believe it's gonna work." He smiled. "Emma will kick my ass if I don't believe that." Maddie laughed and he hugged her to him. "I love you, sweet girl. And before long you and me, we'll be playing those guitars again. Better than ever."
Maddie buried her face in his chest. "I love you too, Dad," she said, her voice muffled. "I love you too."
The night before he went in the hospital, Deacon was already in bed when Emma came back from putting Abby down. "Are you tired?" she asked. Ironically, he'd had a very good day and had felt more energetic than normal. He probably did too much. Stubborn man.
He shrugged. "Yeah, a little. But I just wanted us to spend some time together."
She smiled. "Okay," she said. She walked around to the other side of the bed and started to get in. Deacon frowned. "What?"
"You're not wearing that, are you?"
She felt a welcome tingle of excitement and she pulled off the nightshirt she had on. He wasn't always up for sex these days. Many nights, they'd just hold each other because he didn't have the strength to do more than that. So she crawled over on all fours and kissed him. He deepened the kiss and reached for her arm. Then he pulled her towards him and pushed back the sheet, letting her straddle him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and her legs around his hips, and then kissed him again as he put his arms around her. They kissed a while and then he pulled her close, running his hands up and down her back. Finally he grabbed her hips and lifted her slightly, letting her take him in as she slid back down.
She wriggled her hips and smiled. "You feel good, hon," she said.
He smiled. "You feel better." He leaned in and nuzzled her neck.
Emma closed her eyes as they rocked back and forth and she moaned softly as he kissed her neck. Then he found her mouth again and they kissed hungrily as they came together. He held her tightly and then moved her over so that she could stretch out next to him. He leaned back on the pillow and turned his face away.
"Deacon, look at me," Emma said. He didn't move. "Please." He finally turned to look at her and she was overwhelmed by the devastation and sadness she saw in his red rimmed eyes. She reached her hand up to cover his cheek. "Don't," she said softly.
He rolled towards her, gathering her in his arms, his face mere inches from hers. "I don't want this to be the last time I make love to you," he said, his voice broken.
She couldn't hold her tears in and she brushed at them. "It's not, hon. You're getting a transplant the day after tomorrow and you're going to be fine," she said.
Tears started to streak down his face. "I don't want to leave you. I just found you."
She kissed him. "You're not leaving. You're gonna fight. And win. It can't be any other way."
"Sweet Emma," he said, kissing her gently. "I'm counting on seeing your face when I wake up."
She kissed him back. "You will. I'll be right there, standing next to you. I promise."
Emma woke up feeling a little disoriented. She was surprised she'd fallen asleep. Deacon had opened up to her a little about his fears and she guessed that released some of the tension she'd felt since his diagnosis. She hoped he finally felt a little more confident about the outcome. But when she turned to him, he wasn't there and she felt her stomach clench.
She got out of bed and pulled on the nightshirt she'd thrown off. She padded down the hall, thinking he might be in the living room, but then saw a movement in Abby's nursery. He was standing by her crib, resting his arms on the rail, just dressed in jeans. She walked in and ran her hand over his back. He looked over at her and, even in the dim light of the night light, she saw sadness in his eyes.
"What are you doing, hon?" she asked softly.
He worked his lip. "Just watching her. Hoping it's not the last time I get to do that."
Her heart hurt. "Deacon."
He dropped his hand down and, ever so gently, ran a finger over Abby's tiny arm. "It could happen, Emma," he said. "Nothing is guaranteed. We both know that."
She leaned against the rail. "I know. But I don't want you to feel that way."
He looked at her again. "But it's possible."
"But not likely. Your odds are excellent."
He sighed. "I waited so long for this, Emma. I just can't believe it could all be taken away. I've been sober all these years. Why now?"
She took a deep breath. "Stop it. You act like the universe is trying to punish you all the time. I know you were a drunk, you did some bad stuff while you were drunk, you hurt people, but you're not a bad person. It's not like you wanted to do all that. You've been a good friend, a good father, a good husband. Any small thing you might have needed to make up for, you've already done it, probably a million times over." She sighed. "You deserve this. The universe owes you a happy ending. And now it's here, for the taking. You need to stop acting like you don't deserve it. Take it. Accept it. Believe in it. Know you earned it." She reached for his hand. "You're the best thing in my life. And we deserve this. Together."
He looked at her, his eyes sad. Then he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "I just need you to know, no matter what happens, that this has been the best time of my life."
She pulled him down so they could sit on the floor, leaning against Abby's crib. In the beginning, when they first got Deacon's diagnosis and the doctor explained about the transplant list, she'd been devastated. Deacon's condition was shockingly bad, considering he had been mostly symptom-free up to that point. Abby was four months old then, seven months old now. But still a baby. And although she recognized Deacon when he picked her up or played with her or changed her or rocked her to sleep, if Deacon was gone, she'd have no memories.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and draped her legs over his lap. She held his hand. She had been terrified then. It had felt so hopeless and scary, but then Scarlett had come to the rescue. A match and willing to make the sacrifice of part of her liver for her uncle. Maddie had wanted to be a donor, but even despite Rayna, Teddy, and Deacon all emphatically saying no, she wasn't old enough anyway. And Rayna. She had been tested, but wasn't a match. But Emma was hopeful now. His chances were good that he would make a full recovery and she wanted him to stop thinking negatively.
As she leaned against him, he took his hand from hers and trailed it up her leg and then under the shirt. She shivered in anticipation as he ran his hand up her chest and began to fondle one breast. His eyes captured hers as he gently ran his hand over her. She moaned softly and then his lips covered hers. As the kiss got more intense, he moved his hand down and she moved one leg to the side. He slid two fingers inside her and began to move them in ways that made her squirm with pleasure and moan deep in her throat.
Suddenly he rolled her onto her back and straddled her legs. He worked the zipper of his jeans and then pushed them down around his knees. He lowered himself, sliding into her easily. She let out an appreciative moan and raised her legs slightly so she could push his jeans down with her feet. When she'd freed him enough, they both smiled and developed their rhythm.
Afterwards, he laid there, holding her tight, still inside her. She laughed softly. "I'm glad we didn't wake Abby up," she whispered.
He smiled. "At least she's too young to be scarred for life."
She ran her hands over his arms and looked at him seriously. "Deacon, I really want you to be positive about tomorrow. I know you're scared, and I'm scared, but this is a best case scenario. You know that."
He worked his lip. "I guess I just feel like I've screwed so much up in my life that I might not deserve this."
She sighed. "But you do. You're a good man, a good father, a good husband. You're loved by a lot of people. You had a great love who gave you Maddie and now you have me. And Abby. We need you. Me, Abby, Maddie. We need you to be part of our lives for years to come. I need you to believe you're worth that, because you are." She could see tears pricking his eyes and he kissed her gently. "I love you so much," she whispered. "I'm fighting so hard and I need you to fight too." She shifted her legs as she felt him getting hard again, listening to her. "Being here like this with you, it's what gets me through the days. You're my perfect fit. I need you, Deacon. I need you so much."
He kissed her again, gently at first, then more insistently, and he made love to her again, his heart full of his love for her. And when they lay in each other's arms, breathing hard, he whispered in her ear, "I'm not leaving you." She smiled and held him close, willing him to believe that.