Rayna's phone buzzed again. She hadn't stopped texting back and forth with her youngest daughter since the bus had left half an hour ago. Saying goodbye to the girls had been harder than she'd thought. Daphne, especially, had held onto her for a long time before agreeing to let her go. It was the first time she and Deacon would be away from their daughters for as long.

They'd kicked the tour off at the Ryman the previous night, and they'd boarded the bus early that morning, en route to Raleigh. Then it would be Richmond, D.C., Baltimore, Philly, two nights in New York at the Beacon, and then Boston, Syracuse, Cleveland. They would end that run in Louisville, before starting the western run the following week.

The rehearsals had gotten Rayna really excited. They'd settled for a reduced version of the band, and for a couple of songs, they were going full acoustic; only she, Deacon and a guitar. The setlist included some songs they hadn't done in years, songs she loved but which didn't work for arena shows. Every date had already sold out in a blink, so it'd lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She was ready to enjoy this tour to the fullest.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Adria asked, pulling her from her reverie.

Adria was one of the handful people who'd been in her band from the very beginning. She was her and Deacon's closest friend. She'd seen it all, the good and the bad; Rayna's climb to stardom, but also Vince's death, Deacon's trips to rehab and his successful fight for sobriety.

"I'm thinking I'm so glad you're here, Adria," Rayna said. "I know it's not the tour we'd originally planned, so I'm grateful you chose to do it with us."

"I'm happy to be here, Rayna, you know that. And after last night, I'd say this tour is off to a pretty good start."

It meant something coming from Adria, she wasn't one for false praise or comforting lies.

It was Deacon's phone's turn to buzz, and Rayna looked over at where he was sitting on the other side of the bus front lounge, across from her and Adria. "Daph?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"No, it's from Scar this time. She and Gunnar got a positive answer from South Circle."

Rayna cheered. "I knew they would!"

Scarlett had been a ball of nerves all week waiting for the news. If she'd been reluctant about the demo and the publishing deal at first, she was now fully on board with the idea.

"We should call her," Deacon suggested.

Rayna nodded, and they got up to head into the mastersuite where it was more quiet for a speakerphone conversation.

—

"Rayna?"

She opened her eyes to Deacon standing next to their hotel bed, a cup of coffee in hand. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. It was what happened when you woke up in a different place every day. She wasn't sure how Deacon had showered, gotten dressed, ordered room service, and she still hadn't woken up.

"Hey, sleepyhead, planning on getting up today?" he asked.

"Buck was right about the new bus, it's nice, but nothing beats a real night of sleep in a real bed," she noted, yawning and stretching. "I was having the best dream."

"What about?"

Rayna smiled. She sat up, reached for his cup of coffee, took a sip and put it on the nightstand. She then managed to grab Deacon's shirt. "You know what? I'll show you," she said, pulling him down with her, and they both laughed as he fell in bed.

—

"The bus leaves in 30 minutes, Ray."

She was half-sprawled on Deacon, effectively preventing him from getting out of bed. "I can be ready in ten."

"Nineteen years of marriage say otherwise, baby."

"Hey!" she protested, kicking him in the leg. She lifted her head, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I can't believe I freaked out about this tour, babe." It sounded so silly now.

"I can." She frowned at that. "What I mean," he began to explain, "is that it's easy for me to only worry about the music and nothing else. I can do that because I know you worry about everything else. The practical, down-to-earth part of this business I have no interest in. And I probably don't say it enough, but I'm grateful for that, baby."

She grazed blue-painted fingernails against his stubble. "Well, you make sure I never forget about the music part. And I am grateful for that."

"We make a good team, huh?"

"The best."

Always.

—

They wrote Can't Remember Never Loving You in Baltimore.

The show had been their best of the run so far, and afterwards, they were wired up, still high from the music and the adrenaline and the audience's response.

They hurried back to the hotel and spent the night writing.

The tour was having a strange effect on Rayna. She hadn't felt this free in years. Usually, with all the stuff going on, she had a constant buzz in her head all the time; this person's gotta be here at this point, this person's gotta be there at this point. Since the beginning of the tour, the buzz seemed to have faded away.

It felt like back in the day, when she and Deacon were starting out. She hadn't realized how further and further away she'd gotten from why she'd decided to do this in the first place, which was about sharing her truth with people. Maybe this tour was what she needed to find her voice again.

When sunlight started to filter through the blinds of their hotel room, they were still sitting on the bed, remnants of room service on the nighstand, and scraps of crumpled paper all over the floor.

Rayna yawned before she asked, "Should we try it from the start one last time?" She held her notepad up for both of them to see.

Deacon grabbed his guitar.

You've been a part of me forever
On this road I've traveled on
For so long

It's like you've been the only one for all my life
Like I've never looked into another's eyes

Rayna watched Deacon as he played, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings, his voice blending in the most perfect way with hers.

No, even in the darkest of times, when she'd had to drag him out of hotel rooms because he was so wasted she didn't know if he was drunk or dead, when she was starting to lose all hope he would ever get better, no, even then she couldn't remember not loving him.

—

Shotgun had been part of the setlist since the beginning of the tour, and because of the overwhelming reaction the song got each night, Bucky suggested they released it as a single.

They booked a studio while in New York, and Watty flew in last-minute from Nashville. Deacon and Rayna had been insistent they wanted him to produce this one. They recorded a somewhat more upbeat, full-band version of the song while still keeping its original spirit intact.

They finished late at night and took time to thank every musician before letting them go home. After that, they hung around for a while longer in the studio with Watty and Buck. They celebrated with a weird combo of Chinese food and Prosecco, and talked about everything and nothing.

When they finally got out of the building, the sun was rising already. They parted ways there as Watty had to head straight to the airport, and the rest of them had to go catch the bus.

"Thank you so much, Watty," Rayna said while hugging him goodbye.

"I've got a good feeling about this one, Ray."

This made her hopeful. For as long as she'd known him, she didn't remember a single time when his intuition in these matters had failed him.

—

They were four weeks into the tour when it happened.

Tandy's phone call about Lamar's heart attack came in the middle of the night. They hastily booked the first flight back to Nashville, and even if the initial news didn't sound too dire, Bucky took care of canceling their next show as there was no way they would be back in time.

They were sitting in the plane, a few minutes away from take-off, when Deacon reached for Rayna's hand. "He's going to be okay, baby."

Her mind had been in a fog since they'd answered Tandy's call. "You know, the last thing I told him was to go to hell. So, dying is exactly the kind of thing he would do, just to make me feel guilty until the end of time," she scoffed.

Deacon felt he shouldn't have smiled at that. "He is not going to die." He suspected it would take more than an heart attack to bring the great Lamar Wyatt down.

"I don't want the girls at the hospital, so are you okay staying home with them while I'll meet Tandy there?"

"Of course, baby." He wasn't going to complain in the least. An healthy Lamar was already difficult to deal with, he could only imagine what a sick and irritated Lamar would be like. He felt sorry for the poor nurses who'd been assigned to his care. "Are you going to be okay?" He knew how much Rayna hated hospitals ever since her mom's death.

"Yeah. I would feel worse not going anyway."

This wasn't much of a choice.

—

Rayna had no idea what'd just happened. She'd been talking to Watty in the hospital hall when her dad had come walking out of his room. As soon as he'd seen Watty, he'd gone crazy. It took Tandy and Rayna ten long minutes – and a lot of bargaining – to convince him to go back to his bed.

Watty waited in the hall all the while, and when Rayna was finally able to get back to him, she started by apologizing. "Hey, I am so sorry. I don't know what that was all about. I think he might be a little... delirious or something 'cause of the meds."

"Yeah."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Rayna didn't remember having ever seen Watty so nervous. "What?" she asked, beginning to feel nervous herself.

"Your mother was an incredible woman, but she wasn't easy on the men in her life." He looked for a reaction on Rayna's face before he went on, "Your mother and I were together."

Rayna was in a daze. "You were... the musician?" Watty nodded. "I think I've gotta sit down," she sputtered.

She couldn't believe Tandy hadn't told her it was him. She must have known. Hell, she couldn't believe Watty hadn't told her. She'd known him for more than twenty-five years. How was it he'd chosen to tell her now?

"Look..." Watty began as he took a seat next to her.

"Is that why you helped me?" she interrupted.

"No, no, no, no," he insisted. "That was 'cause of your talent." It was the truth, but she wasn't sure what to believe anymore. "You need to hear this," he continued. "Lamar loved your mother. We both did. She was... young and impulsive and beautiful. But trying to hold on to her was like trying to hold on to a butterfly." Rayna felt the tears welling up. "And he knew it. That didn't stop him from trying, but he knew it. And... the night she crashed that car, her bags were packed. Rayna, she was desperate to break free."

—

Tandy had left to go take a shower, and Rayna decided to call Deacon to see how everyone was doing at home. She desperately needed to talk about Watty, but she reckoned it wasn't a conversation to have over the phone. She only asked about the girls and told him she planned on staying at the hospital until her dad would wake up. He'd had to get emergency surgery again, and the doctors had warned them it would be some time until he would regain consciousness.

When she got back to Lamar's room, she settled into one of the chairs and let her head fall against the backrest. It'd been a long day, and it wasn't long until she fell asleep.

She woke up to Deacon kneeling next to her, his hand on her upper arm. "Ray?" She didn't say a word, she pulled him into a long hug and held on tight to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Heard something in your voice when you called, it sounded like... you needed me."

When they pulled back, she leaned in to kiss him. "What about the girls?"

"Told Maddie to look after Daphne, they're fine." He paused. "Which reminds me," he added, grabbing the paper bag he'd put on the ground a moment before, "they made this for Lamar." He handed it to Rayna. He got up, and while she was examining the bag's contents, he went to get another chair so he could sit next to her. "Maddie baked the cookies, Daphne decorated the card."

Rayna smiled at the amount of glitter on her fingers. "They're so sweet," she said, putting the items back into the bag.

"Now tell me what's going on, Ray."

She took a deep breath. "Something... weird, to say the least, happened earlier. Remember my conversation with Tandy when she told me our mom was seeing another man while she was married?" Deacon nodded. "I learned it was... Watty."

"I..." Deacon floundered for a second. "I don't know what to say," he admitted.

"I didn't either when Watty told me. So he left, and now I'm not sure where we stand."

"I'm certain he understands anyone would need some time after... a news like this."

"I hope so." She looked at her dad lying on his hospital bed. "It's strange. It feels like I know my mother better today, and like I didn't know my father at all."

"You were only 12 when your mom died. Things look different through the eyes of a 12-year-old."

"Yeah." She laughed bitterly. "It all makes so much more sense now. The day my father kicked me out of the house was the day Watty brought me my first paying gig. No wonder he got so furious at me. That was the biggest fight we had ever had!"

"Way I remember it, he said that you were allowed to stay in his house, but you had to live by his rules," Deacon tried to mimick Lamar's voice.

"Well, that wasn't gonna happen."

"No, that wasn't."

"So I left." She winced. "I did have a mouth on me though."

"Some things never change."

She chuckled as she slapped his arm. "Shut up." She let out a deep sigh, then. "It's been... the weirdest day." It was the understatement of the year.

Deacon reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'll stay as long as you need, baby."

—

TBC