It was the next to the last day of filming on Connie's next to the last episode. He knew when he went home that night the script for her last episode would be there. He felt sick to his stomach. He'd barely eaten all day. He and Connie had two scenes to do that day and they were working on the last one, a tense scene where the stalker was standing outside Deacon and Rayna's house. It suited him to be working on a scene that included anger and desperation and gave him a reason to raise his voice, letting him have an outlet for his pain. The last time they did the scene, Connie grabbed his arm as if to settle him. It was in the script, but it had felt like it was Connie trying to calm down Chip.
When the scene was finished, he walked off the set and out to his trailer. He shut the door and started to pace, linking his fingers together on top of his head. He wasn't ready to go home, but he had nothing else to do. He wasn't working the next day, so he had no lines to go through. He realized he was still wearing Deacon's clothes and so he changed into his own. He'd drop everything off in wardrobe before he left. He went to the sink and scrubbed the makeup off his face. When he finished, he stood at the sink, his hands on the edge, water dripping from his face. Just as he reached for a towel, he heard knocking on the door. He wiped off his face as he walked to the door. He was surprised to see Connie there.
"Hey," she said. "Can I come in?" He nodded and stepped aside, closing the door behind her.
She walked over to the bench, shrugging off her jacket, and sat. She crossed one leg over the other, bouncing it slightly. He thought she looked tense, distracted, maybe a little bit melancholy. She was looking at her fingers as she picked at the edge of the top she had on. She'd changed into her regular clothes – jeans, a sweater she'd worn before and that he knew felt soft as velvet, and ankle boots. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she had a scarf around her neck. "What's going on?" he asked.
She looked up at him, squinting her eyes just a little. "I was worried about you," she said.
"Me?" he asked, a little surprised.
She nodded. "Yeah. I know this is tough. It's tough for both of us, but I think it's harder for you." She held her hand up. "And not because of anything other than, when this is all said and done, you're the one who gets left. Both you and Deacon." She gave him the ghost of a smile. "And you're both pretty emotional men. Which is a rare find, I will tell you." She laughed a little, a sad laugh. "I love that you feel things, Chip. I really do. Let's me know it's okay for me to feel things too. That you won't think I'm being a baby or being silly. That I'm not just some weepy, emotional woman. I feel validated, you know?"
He shoved his hands in his pocket and exhaled. "I've never thought you were a weepy, emotional woman," he said, letting his lips turn up slightly.
She patted the seat next to her. "Will you come sit with me, please?"
He hesitated for just a second, then sat next to her. He put his arm around her as she tucked into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. He let his fingers drift down the arm of her sweater, feeling the cozy softness. He turned his head slightly and kissed her on her forehead. "I don't want you to worry, about me, or anything else," he said.
She smoothed her hand down his leg. "That's what we do for each other, though, my love. I know you're gonna go home and you'll read that script and you'll want to talk about it, but you can't." She sat up and looked at him intently. "Nobody leaves." She tapped her chest. "Not in our hearts." She reached out and tapped his chest over his heart.
He looked at her, feeling such a mix of emotions, some of which he couldn't even name. But she was here, letting him know she understood and telling him they would be strong for each other. He sat up and let his fingers thread her hair on both sides of her face, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. "I don't want to go home," he said.
She rubbed his chest with her hand. "I know. But not facing it doesn't make it go away." She ran a finger down his jawline. "Just remember it's gonna be hard for all of us. You're not in this by yourself."
He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. He tried to smile. "You're gonna have to help me get through it then," he said.
She smiled. "Don't worry. I will."
He dreaded getting home. He actually drove under the speed limit, something totally not like him. He knew that manila envelope would be there, on the kitchen counter, where Patty always put it when it came. He wondered if she'd opened it. She would do that sometimes. Usually it wasn't a big deal, but this time he hoped she did not. He wanted to see it first, read it alone, and let it sink in.
Her SUV wasn't in the garage when he got home, but when he walked into the kitchen he spotted the envelope. He walked over and saw it was still unopened. He stood at the counter, his hands flat on either side of it, as though if he touched it, it might scorch his hands. But finally he picked it up and walked into the study, Blue following behind him. He sat in his favorite club chair, one he'd had for probably twenty years. It was well broken in and comfortable, the place where he normally read the script for the first time.
He held the envelope in his hands, then set it aside, getting up and shutting the doors. He didn't want to be interrupted. When he sat back down, he picked it up. He ran his tongue around his lips, breathing in deeply. He could feel his heart beating hard. He breathed in one more time, then opened the envelope, pulling out the script. The title was "If Tomorrow Never Comes" and he felt tears in his eyes. Then he breathed out and opened it up.
He started with the opening scene – Rayna being brought into the hospital – but then he just flipped to the end. He leaned back against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Finally he sat up and forced himself to look at the page. He felt his chest start to hurt as he read that he, Lennon, and Maisy would sing 'A Life That's Good' one last time. Then Rayna's eyes opened and closed, the script directions reading that the sound of a flatlining monitor would be heard. He leaned over, bracing himself with his elbows on his knees. The script fell out of his hands. He clasped his hands together and rested his forehead there, the tears rolling down his face. He realized then that he was hoping against hope that it wouldn't really happen, that she wasn't really leaving. But just as quickly, he knew she would never have let him think she was if she wasn't.
After a few minutes, he picked the script back up off the floor and opened it back up at the beginning, skimming until he got to his first scene.
It felt like they were both in almost every scene in the episode, but there actually was a day when neither of them were working. The evening before, as they were walking out of the building, he'd suggested they do something together the next day.
She looked surprised. "Are you sure? Can you get away?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I'll make it happen."
She smiled. "What were you thinking then?" she asked, a teasing note to her voice.
He shrugged. "Just get away, where nobody would see us." He breathed out. "I think maybe we need to have a little fun." They had walked up to the trailer farm. From here he'd go left and she'd go right. They stopped and turned towards each other.
She looked intrigued. "Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You game?"
She grinned. "Absolutely."
He smiled back. "Okay then. I'll text you with the plans. Be ready."
She laughed a little, sounding almost girlish. "Can't wait." Then she turned and headed for her trailer, as he watched until she turned the corner.
He was relieved that Patty had a busy day. Maybe it was that she felt a little bad about the episode. She had read the script after all, but had not said a word about it. They had not talked about Connie's plans, of course. She hadn't asked and he certainly wouldn't volunteer the information. She thought Connie was going back to LA right away. He wasn't going to confirm or deny it.
She found him out on the back porch, working on a song. She leaned against one of the posts, her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms crossed over her chest. He didn't stop what he was doing right away, but eventually he got to the end of the melody he was trying. He looked up at her. "Did you need me?" he asked.
She took a beat, then shook her head. "So, do you know when she finishes up?"
He worked hard to keep a neutral look on his face and not to sigh or roll his eyes. "Before Christmas, I think."
She nodded thoughtfully. "And I suppose she'll just go back to LA then?"
He shrugged. "Maybe so," he said.
She frowned. "You really haven't asked her?"
He sighed then, putting down his pencil. "She's gonna do what's best for her and her career. That's what I know." He stood up then, holding onto his guitar. "I think I'll head to bed. It's been a tiring day." He picked up his notebook and walked past her into the house.
He sighed deeply as he headed for Connie's house. He had no idea how long it would take before Patty realized Connie was still in town. He hoped a while. He had texted Connie before he left the rental place. Wear jeans, a sweatshirt or sweater, a jacket and no heels.
Where are we going?
You'll see. I'll be there in about 30 min. The prospect of seeing her put a smile on his face. He was looking forward to surprising her. He'd rented a motorcycle and two helmets. He didn't often get to ride a bike and he thought it might be a good day for a ride and some alone time out in the country. It was a crisp, clear day, but not too chilly. He liked the feel of the road and pushing the speed on the bike. When he got to her neighborhood, he navigated the streets to her house, parking the bike about halfway up the driveway. He hopped off, taking off his helmet and grabbing the second one, then jogged up the walk to the front porch.
He looked around as he waited for her to answer the door. The houses in the neighborhood weren't too close to the street and there was good tree coverage, but now that it was December, the trees were mostly bare. When she opened the door, she looked at the helmets in his hand. "What are we doing, Chip?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
He grinned. "Going for a ride. You're okay on a bike, aren't you?"
She stepped onto the porch and looked towards the driveway, then put a hand over her heart, looking back at him. "I thought you might have meant a real bike," she said with a laugh.
He pretended to be surprised. "But this is a real bike," he said.
She swatted his forearm. "You knew what I meant."
He laughed. "I thought we'd take a ride out a ways. You up for it?"
She hesitated for just a second, then grinned broadly. "Absolutely!" she said, laughing. She held out her hand. "Give me that helmet."
He loved the feel of her arms around him, pressed against his back, as they rode, the wind in their faces, feeling like they were the only two people on the road. The sun was shining and it had warmed up a bit, so the air wasn't so chilly. He drove up Briley Parkway and turned off on Ashland City Highway. He kept driving, through Ashland City itself and beyond. He turned off the highway and ended up at Sycamore Creek Recreation Area, a small park along a tributary of the Cumberland. The park was empty, which was what he'd hoped, and he looped around until he came up on a grill area with a picnic table.
He turned off the bike and parked it and got off. Then he turned to her and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her off the bike and then took off her helmet and his own and hung them on the bike handles. She slipped her hand back into his, as they walked over to the picnic table and climbed up on it. She slid her arm through his and bumped his shoulder. "Well, it isn't exactly Rayna and Deacon's picnic table, but it will definitely do," she said.
He looked at her and then put a finger against her lips, shaking his head. "No show talk today," he said, hearing a catch in his voice. "There's time after today for all that. Today it's just Chip and Connie, having a good day together. We're in the now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow. Today. We have a day without all that and I want to keep it that way."
He could see the dampness in her eyes and then she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I like the sound of that," she said softly.
They sat together quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts. He could feel the tension leave his body and he raised his face up and closed his eyes, drinking in the calm and the silence. He breathed in deeply, then looked over at her. "I love this place," he said.
She looked confused. "This park?" she asked.
He shook his head, smiling a little. "No. I mean this whole place. All of it. Nashville. Tennessee." He sighed. "I lived in LA a long time. Liked it. The sun, the pleasant weather, the hustle and bustle, the energy. Everything's at your fingertips. Even the glitz and glamour sometimes." She smiled. "But this place is where I feel at home. It's a city but it's not. You've got everything you need but you don't have to go far to feel like you're miles away." He covered her hand with his. "Everything good has happened to me here. This job. My music." He paused. "You." She held his arm a little tighter. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be loved by Connie Britton."
She bit her lip, a sweet smile lingering. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, to be loved by Chip Esten." Her voice was soft and husky, betraying her emotions. He leaned in and captured her lips, letting the kiss linger a bit.
Then he grinned at her. "You wanna go play on the swings?"
She opened her mouth with surprise, but her eyes were twinkling. "Really? Can we see who can go the highest?" she asked, with a laugh.
He stepped off the table, taking her hand. "Absolutely," he said. "Let's go!" Together they ran for the swings. He took one and she took the one next to him.
She pushed off the ground with her feet as he watched. She swung out a little bit and not very high in the air. She looked back at him and laughed. "This is crazy, Chip," she cried. She gave him a side eye when she saw him still sitting there. "I'm not gonna be the only one doing this." She wagged one finger towards him. "You have to do this too."
He smiled and pushed off as well. He swung out farther and higher. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna compete with me?"
She kept swinging, pushing the ground with her feet, pushing herself higher. "I'll have you know I was the best at swinging when I was six," she called out.
He didn't really change his rhythm, preferring to watch her as she went ever higher, stretching her legs out in front of her as she rose up in the air. She was laughing, leaning back with her arms fully extended, her hair flying out behind her. When she looked over and saw that he wasn't doing much, she slowed down until her feet started to drag on the dirt. When she stopped, she looked over at him, her face pink from her exertion. "Did you give up? Didn't want to challenge the swing queen, huh?" she asked, smiling gleefully.
He couldn't help smiling at her. This was exactly what he'd needed and he was glad she'd been game to go along. "Well, I'm really better at the monkey bars," he said. "How about you?"
She made a face. "Not my best kid sport, I have to admit," she said. "But if you'll lift me up, I'll try."
He hopped off the swing. "You're on," he said, with a grin. He headed to the monkey bars and jumped up, grabbing the bars with his hands. It wasn't as tall as it had seemed when he was a kid, so it had really taken no effort to grab on. He could tell his feet weren't far off the ground. He swung forward, grabbing one bar and then the next, until he got to the last one and he dropped down. He was surprised to be a little winded. He looked back at her. She was looking up at the bar. "It's not that high, Connie. Even for you."
She looked at him and stuck out her tongue. "You did promise to help me," she reminded him.
He grinned. "That is true. I did." He walked over to stand behind her. "You ready?" She nodded. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her up so she could grab the bars. "Can I let you go?"
She hesitated. "No."
"No? Why not?"
"Well, what if I fall?"
He laughed out loud. "Oh my God, Connie, you're like maybe a foot off the ground."
She looked down. "I think it's farther than that. I think I need you to keep holding on." He watched as she reached for the next bar with one hand. He kept his hands on her waist as she moved the other one, acting as though she was worried she'd fall into a deep canyon. He smirked. She moved one hand to the next bar and that's when he let go. "No, no, no, Chip!" she cried out, waving her feet in the air.
"You can do it, baby," he said, as he watched her with one hand on one bar and the other on a different one. "I'll catch you if you fall though."
She hung like that for what felt like a long time, and probably wasn't, before trying to let go and reach for the other bar. He could see her hand slip, though, and even though it wasn't a far drop, he did grab her by the waist and set her down gently. She turned to him, her hand over her heart. "Oh, thank you," she said, looking a little scared. "I don't think I'm gonna do that again."
He smiled. "Okay, we don't have to." He pointed at the slide. "What about that?"
She nodded. "I can do that," she said, with a smile. "I've done the slide with Yoby." It was one of those tube slides that that had multiple twists and turns. She ran around to the steps and started to climb. He followed her and stood below her, enjoying the view of her cute ass.
He climbed back up to the platform. Connie was sitting at the entrance to the slide. They'd probably done this ten times. "Don't dawdle," he said, as she got ready to slide down again. As soon as she started, he walked over and dropped down to the top of the slide, heading after her. As he rounded the curve, he saw her sitting at the bottom of the slide. She was looking back at him with a saucy smile. He grabbed the sides to slow his pace, sliding his legs around her and grabbing her around the waist.
"Thought you'd never get here," she said and then laughed. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her on the neck. She made a little satisfied sound, snuggling into the embrace.
He meant to push her to a standing position and then get off the slide himself, but instead he kept placing little kisses on her neck and behind her ear. She put her hands over his, letting them tighten around his a bit. She leaned her head a little farther to the side so he could have better access. He nudged her hair with his nose, trailing the kisses along the back of her neck as well. She kept making those little noises, rubbing her back against his chest. "Wanna go down the slide again?" he whispered into her ear.
"I don't think so," she whispered, her voice like a caress. She turned her head and leaned against his shoulder. "I think I'd like you to take me home now."
He laughed softly. "I think I'd like to do that too," he said.
He hit the gas a little harder on the way back. By the time they got to Connie's house, she'd have about an hour before she needed to be on the road to pick up Yoby from school. Again, he liked the feel of her arms around his waist and her body pressed hard against his back. When he pulled into her driveway, he turned the bike off, helped her off, and they ran up the walkway and the steps, pulling off their helmets as they went. She unlocked and opened the front door and he gently pushed her in, following behind. They dropped their helmets in the foyer and then he pressed her back against the wall, one arm around her waist, the other hand sliding into her hair, as he kissed her insistently.
She ran her hands up his back, pulling him closer, her tongue dancing inside his mouth as his chased hers. He let his hands slide down to her ass and he pressed her against him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She finally pulled her lips from his and looked up into his eyes. Her lips were puffy, her eyes half closed. "Not here," she whispered. "Upstairs."
He nodded and took a step back, taking her hand and pulling her up the stairs behind him. They quickly undressed each other and then got on the bed. She laid on her back and spread her legs open and he groaned. He nestled himself between her legs, propping himself on his elbows so he could look at her. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He shifted slightly so he could dip his hand between them. He felt how wet and ready she was and he sucked in his breath. She made a little moaning noise, her eyes focused on his. He couldn't wait any longer and he plunged inside her, steadily pushing in until he was completely wrapped up in her sweet warmth.
"I'm not gonna last long," he choked out.
"Me either," she whispered.
He captured her mouth with his, as he moved inside her. It only took a few long, powerful strokes and he released himself inside her, crying out incoherently, feeling the power of his orgasm that felt like it went on forever. In the midst of it all, she tilted her pelvis towards him and started to moan over and over. She tightened her legs around his back as they rocked against each other. And then he collapsed onto her, struggling to breath. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Or maybe it was his own, he couldn't tell.
He took a deep breath and pressed his lips against her neck, just behind her ear, and she moaned again. "Oh, Chip," she whispered. He could hear in her voice how completely satiated she was. He wondered if she had felt the same kind of out of body feeling he'd had. It had felt like they were the only two people on earth and that this act of love was somehow sacred, life-affirming, somehow melding them together even more than they had been before.
He raised his head and looked down at her flushed face. There was a light sheen of perspiration on her face and he smoothed her hair back. She let her feet slide down the back of his legs as he leaned down to gently kiss her lips. "God, Connie, I'm not even sure what that was," he said.
Her lips turned up in a little smile. "Me either. That was just, I don't know, like, I guess, so…much," she said. "God, I love you." He saw a glistening in her eyes and he leaned down and kissed them closed.
"I love you too," he murmured, then let himself just rest against her, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Eventually he moved off of her, laying on his side facing her. She turned towards him, letting her fingers trail across his cheek. She looked into his eyes, as though she was searching for something there. He didn't want the day to end of some kind of sad note, considering there would be so much of that coming up. He started to say something, when she put her index finger over his lips. "Thank you for today," she said. "I really had fun, just doing silly things like swinging and going down the slide." She smiled. "It was absolutely perfect. And right now I just feel so loved. And that's just the best feeling."
He brushed her lips with his. "I'm glad," he said. "It was a great day for me too." He pushed her hair back and kissed her again. "I feel loved too. Thank you for that. For all the times over these past five years that you've done that."
She pulled him to her for a long, lingering kiss that promised so much more, but then she pulled back. "I'd really like to just stay like this forever, but" – she smiled as she bit down on her lip – "I have to pick up my kid."
He kissed her hard on the lips. "I know."
She walked him to the door and he picked up the helmets. She smiled up at him. "This was just the perfect day. Just what we needed, I think."
He nodded. "Agreed." He kissed her. "I'll see you tomorrow then." She nodded, her eyes changing from happy to wistful. He kissed her again, then let himself out of the house.
Tomorrow came entirely too soon. He was up early, partly because he had to be at the studio early, partly because he'd hardly slept. Although everything wasn't being filmed in order, there were a series of scenes they'd be filming that day that came early in the episode, all centered around Rayna – a scene before the surgery and one after. They would also spend time on the waiting room scenes. A good portion of those had no words so those could be done more quickly. It would be a long day, not the worst of what he'd be doing in the episode, but he already had a knot in his stomach as he thought about his lines.
As he showered, he thought about the whole episode. He had a lot of scenes, all of them hospital scenes, except for the one scene where Deacon was driving to the hospital, which he would film later in the week, when Lennon was filming some nighttime scenes outside the hospital and on the pedestrian bridge. The final scenes of the episode weren't being filmed until the last day, fittingly. That would be a highly emotional day and was focused completely on Connie's final scenes. He felt tears mixed with the water from the shower and he breathed in slowly, not wanting to give into it.
He focused on the previous day with Connie. It made him smile. Getting to set aside the reality of her last episode had been a balm for him and he hoped for her too. Giving themselves permission to kind of leave the real world behind and just have fun together had been amazing. He'd actually been surprised that he hadn't thought much about what was coming. He'd allowed himself to be completely in the moment, something Connie would often say to him when they were together. We just need to be present and focus on the now, be in the moment. Everything else can wait. It had been that kind of day.
He was standing at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist. He'd combed back his hair and he was brushing his teeth. He leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste and, when he stood back up, he caught sight of Patty in the mirror. She was leaning against the door frame. He raised his eyebrows at her as he wiped off his face.
"You were pretty restless last night," she said. "You okay?"
He looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "It's a tough episode. Highly emotional for everyone. I'm guessing it'll be hard for all of us." He fully expected some kind of veiled unkind comment, but he was surprised.
"I guess it will be," she said, nodding. "When do you film that last scene?"
He turned to face her. "Last filming day. Last day before the holiday break."
"They ever find out who leaked information?"
He shook his head. "I think they just took the position they'd ignore it. Connie's trying to deflect when she's asked."
"I'm sure it's tough," she said, her voice subdued.
"Yeah," he said, hearing his voice crack just a little. He cleared his throat. "I just wish they'd come up with another option." He breathed in. "I gotta get dressed. I need to be out of here in fifteen minutes."
She gave him a thin smile. "I'll go make coffee." He nodded and she turned to leave.
He rubbed his face and breathed in deeply, then let it out. He threw on some clothes, then did a quick dry on his hair. It was still slightly damp, but they'd want to work on it in hair and makeup anyway. He slid on his boots, then picked up his phone and slid it in his back pocket and hustled downstairs. He slid on a jacket, grabbed his keys and wallet, and took the travel mug of coffee Patty handed him.
"Hope it all goes well," she said, as he got ready to walk out to the garage.
He looked back at her and took a beat. "Yeah. Me too," he said. He opened the door to the garage.
Every day was an emotional day, as it turned out. Connie had recruited her best friend Carla to be the ghost of her mother. Watching them huddling together and giggling during breaks was disconcerting to him. When he'd come on set that day, he'd seen them, off to the side. Connie was in a hospital gown and little makeup. Carla looked like the quintessential wealthy woman, although he thought she actually looked more like someone from the 50's than a woman who had died in the 80's. But he supposed that was how wealthy women back then might have looked.
When Connie saw him, she smiled and waved. He smiled back and walked over to where the two of them were sitting, his hands in his pockets.
"Hey, there," she said cheerfully. They both stood up. She grinned at him. "Is this like the fifth day in a row you've worn those clothes?" she asked.
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I'm not even sure they've washed them in between." He inclined his head to her. "Same for you though. That same hospital gown."
She shook her head. "Oh, no. Rayna had a different hospital gown when she first came in. But I think this one's three days in anyway." She gestured towards Carla. "Chip, this is my friend Carla, who I've told you about. Carla, this is Chip."
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hopeful look on Connie's face. He knew she was nervous about him meeting Carla and how her friend might react to him. Truth be told, he was as well. "Hey, Carla," he said, putting out his hand. She took it in hers and gazed up at her, her expression giving away nothing. "Connie's told me a lot about you."
Carla smiled. "She's told me a lot about you too," she said, the tone of her voice telling him that maybe Connie had really told her a lot about him.
Just then someone came to fetch Connie, in order to get her set up for the scene where Rayna's mother would appear in her room. He and Carla half turned to watch, as Connie got into the hospital bed and they started setting up the hospital equipment around her. He felt unexpectedly nervous. He usually had no problem talking to people he didn't know, but Connie had never really told him Carla's reaction when she'd heard about their relationship. He'd hoped that the fact she had asked for her friend to have the role meant there was no weirdness, but he wasn't sure and had never asked.
Just then Carla took a step closer to him and he looked down at her, feeling anxious. "You should know she feels some anxiety about the future," she said softly, so softly he almost couldn't hear her.
For a second, he couldn't make words come out of his mouth. "She does?" he asked, finally.
She nodded. "She's so torn. Between being here and coming home." She looked at him closely. "Because she doesn't want to leave you."
He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "I don't want her to leave either."
"I told her she needed to be careful, but" – she gave him a tight smile – "she knows her own heart." She breathed in deeply. "Just don't break it." Just then she was called to the set and walked away. He followed her with his eyes, hoping he didn't break her heart either.
After filming for the day was over, he met Connie in her trailer. Carla had had to fly back to LA immediately after the scene was filmed, Connie had explained and she missed her already. "You'll get to see her more when you're back in LA though," he said, feeling a little morose.
She nodded. "Yeah." She was leaned back against him, his arms around her and his chin resting on the top of her head. She had her fingers threaded through his. "I'm glad you got to meet her."
"She gave me a little warning," he said.
She twisted around in his arms and looked up at him in alarm. "What do you mean? What did she say?"
He smiled at her. "Nothing bad, baby. Just told me not to break your heart."
She turned back. "Oh." She leaned back against him, drawing up one leg. "She's kind of protective," she said with a little laugh. "Actually all my friends are."
That surprised him. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's like they think I'm some fragile doll, especially when it comes to relationships." She paused. "I mean, I've been so careful in that regard. I've gone on dates, had a couple relationships here and there, but most of them think I'm in a drought right now." She laughed again. "They think I'm afraid. And maybe I have been, a little bit."
He thought about that. "Are you afraid now?"
She shrugged. "A little. I guess. I keep thinking that the past four and a half years have been a piece of cake compared to the unknown of the future."
He leaned down and kissed her on the neck. "We're gonna figure it out, sweetie. I promise." She nodded and squeezed his fingers.
He was tearing up before they even started filming the first scene on the last day. He could hardly look at Connie, standing around in that damn hospital gown or he was afraid he'd lose it. She had approached him earlier and she had barely started talking when he waved her off and walked away. He felt like he couldn't swallow and he wasn't sure how he was going to say his lines. His chest hurt and his head hurt. He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell them it was all a mistake, make them stop this insanity and let Rayna live another day. He was having a hard time breathing.
As the days had worn on, he felt like he'd taken on Deacon's persona. The panic, the anxiety, the fear, the reality of losing Rayna, all of those things felt magnified in him. It had been building every day, through every scene that was leading up to this. He had tried to mirror all the appropriate emotions, but it had been hard, especially if they went from a high to a low. But there had been tears most every day – some his, some Connie's, sometimes both.
They had filmed a scene earlier in the week where Rayna had told Deacon what she wanted the last song to be. It was a quiet, low key scene, when hopefulness was still there for the two of them. He still felt it though and the tear in the corner of his eye had been completely real. Connie had stopped by his trailer at the end of the day. He had pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. He buried his face in her hair. "Chip?" He pulled back and looked at her. She had a smile on her face. "I'm not the one who's dying, you know."
He breathed in deeply. "I know, but, well…."
She put her hand on his cheek and looked up at him with understanding in her eyes. "I know. It does kinda feel real. But it's not. And I'm not going anywhere." He frowned and she looked at him apologetically. "I know. But you know what I mean."
He did. "Yeah," he said. "I just, you know, I just" – he looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears – "feel like it's…." He sighed. "I don't even know how to say it."
She put both hands on his face and drew him in for a kiss. Then she looked deep in his eyes. "I know what you mean." She took his hand and led him towards the bench. "Come here." They sat, next to each other, and she took his hand again. "I feel like you maybe think this isn't affecting me the same." She looked over at him.
He shook his head. "No, I don't."
She raised an eyebrow and looked unconvinced. "Yeah, I think you do." It was true, he had to admit. He kinda did think that. "I just think we're looking at it from two perspectives. You're staying here and I'm going to LA. But that's not about you. It's about me. I love the character of Rayna, even though they got a little away from her for a minute." He nodded. "I love Deacon and Rayna. I've always said that. This is really going to be hard for both of us, because it's playing out similarly for us, in our lives. And the hard part is that we're going through it alone, basically. We really only have each other to talk about it with and we're feeling it on a much deeper level than just an actor playing a role." She turned to face him, crossing her legs underneath her. "I think, if we were just coworkers, we're good enough actors that we could play all this very convincingly. But we're putting ourselves out there and nobody knows that. Nobody knows that we're in love and that we're facing this too. It affects us both. We may just show it differently."
He nodded. "You're right. It's just hard though."
"It is." She smiled. "You know, I look in your eyes, when we do these scenes, and I can see how much you're living it. And I hope you see that with me."
"I do."
"And you're gonna make me cry when we get to the end. I know it." She took his hand, holding it in both of hers. "You know, the other night I started thinking like Rayna might think. I thought back through all our seasons and considered the actions she took and the things she did and the choices she made in light of the fact that she died young." He could feel the lump in his throat as she talked and he could feel tears in the back of his eyes. "Would she have changed things, had she known? Would she have chosen Deacon sooner? Would she have spent the time listening more to her daughter? And the truth is, you just never know. You and I, though, have made very conscious choices with respect to each other. I'm glad she made a conscious choice where Deacon was concerned and she'll know that she had what she always dreamed of, if not for long enough, at least she had it. It makes me sad for her, though. All this unfinished business." He could feel a tear trace down his face and felt better when he saw one roll down her cheek as well. She tried to laugh. "I'm kind of babbling, aren't I?"
He smiled. "Yeah, you kind of are." She moved over and leaned back against him. He put his arms around her.
She sighed. "I guess it's just really hitting me right now. That this is it."
He leaned in, nibbling a little at her earlobe. "I think what it is, is you're gonna miss the best fuck you ever had," he whispered.
She gasped and then she threw her head back on his shoulder and laughed out loud. He tightened his arms around her and smiled, the first genuine smile he'd had in days. "You are awful!" she cried. Then she turned her face to him. "You also are right." He kissed her.
"Damn right I'm right," he said softly. Then suddenly he felt tears spring up and he lowered his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I hate letting you go," he whispered, his voice sounding like gravel.
She nodded and turned slightly toward him in his arms. She kissed him on the cheek. "I hate letting you go too," she murmured softly.
He sighed. "I just know I love you and this is hard. But we'll do it." She put her hand on his arm and turned her face towards his shoulder. He could feel the dampness of her tears there. They sat that way for a long time before either of them got up to leave.
Each day had been a little harder than the last. They felt the heartbreak of their characters and they poured themselves into it. And on that very last day, every emotion Deacon felt was his own. When Deacon begged Rayna not to leave him, Connie had broken down in tears, causing them to have to reshoot the scene, more than once. The rawness of those emotions were his own, channeled through his character. It wasn't just him, though. Everyone's emotions were real, the sadness hung over the set like a blanket. People cried who weren't supposed to and they had to do it again. Maisy cried to the point of hyperventilating and they had to reshoot again. And tears rolled down Connie's cheeks and she was shaking with sobs she was trying to hold back, as they filmed the scene where Rayna died. Finally they got it right and he knew that if they had done it a thousand times, the tears he shed at the end would still have been there. They were real, they were raw, and his heart was aching.
When they were finished, he walked quickly off the set, and then drove off the lot as soon as he could.