A/N: Thanks to those of you who are reading this and, most especially, to those who've taken time to leave a review. I think any writer would tell you that having feedback helps – to know if we're on the mark or to know how you view things. This particular time in Deacon and Rayna's life is the one we really know the least about and my plan was to try to be as authentic to how I thought that might have gone as I could be and I've appreciated knowing how you perceive it. I think there is at least some denial on the part of Rayna, but I also think she's so conflicted. It goes to the deep connectedness and love she and Deacon shared, what led up to "I love you. That's just never not been true." And Deacon – poor Deacon – who wears his heart on his sleeve. We could see from the beginning that this was indeed an unrequited love for him, but that he always had hope. We could see it after they sang "No One Will Ever Love You" – there was something there they both acknowledged, but then she pulled back, again, and left him putting everything out there on his own. At this stage, I think things finally started to change a bit for the two of them, so you'll see some changes in their relationship after this chapter.

I'm hoping to have this done by the time the hiatus is over, but it's also taken on a bit of a life of its own, so we'll see. Thank you for going on the ride with me.

He turned away from the lake and looked up at the house. He'd come here a lot in the days and weeks and months after he'd come back from that last stint in rehab. Especially in the beginning, it had been hard, being back in Nashville, knowing Rayna had moved on. When she'd invited him back into her band, he'd needed this place even more. Being around her had filled him with such regret, it nearly overwhelmed him. He'd still loved her so much it hurt and he'd had a hard time figuring out how to live his life without her in it.

Over time, he'd accepted the reality and the pain wasn't as great and the hurt faded a little. Having Taylor in his life had helped, but Rayna holding so steadfast to her boundaries had just reinforced that that part of his life was done. Until she'd started letting him in again. All the talk of their history and what they meant to each other. Writing together again. And, although he'd known better than to take it literally, hearing her tell him she loved him, even if it was a platonic kind of love. All of those things had toyed with his mind and had given him a small amount of hope.

Then knowing she and Teddy had fought – about him – made him think there was a chance. But that had just been wishful thinking on his part, turned out.

He walked the short distance to the porch and climbed the steps. Instead of going inside at first, he sat in one of the chairs overlooking the lake. There was a chill in the air here that wasn't yet in Nashville and he sat with his hands in his pockets. One of the things he liked about this place was that it was still very rural. There were no cell towers here – you had to drive three miles down the road to get service – and no cable service. He'd never put in a TV here or gotten a landline phone. It had always been meant as a getaway and he'd never seen a reason to change that.

He took a deep breath and then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face with his hands. He could still see how angry Rayna looked. She'd gone from crying to fury in just seconds. She'd pushed him away, hard, and told him he had violated their agreement, that he needed to move on. He'd been so sure, she seemed so vulnerable then, like she needed him. He could feel tears in his eyes. Clearly he'd misunderstood the way she needed him.

He'd been so sure she had tucked those feelings inside, but not too deep. He'd been so sure he'd seen something in her eyes, many times, that said she hadn't forgotten, that those feelings weren't gone. He'd walked a tightrope all these months, never quite being able to let her go and move on, even when he had someone right in front of him who would have taken him.

He put his head in his hands. He'd gambled and lost. And now he was here.

It was just past dusk when he finally went inside. He turned on the lights and looked around. It looked the same. Rayna's album covers were still on the wall. A selection of his guitars were displayed around the great room. It was a place for music. A place for love. But it was also a place for solitude and reflection, both of which he needed.

There was no wood in the rack and it was too dark to go bring any in, if there was any. He'd have to deal with that the next day. He turned on the heat, leaving his jacket on until it took the chill out of the air. He set his groceries on the counter. He hadn't brought much, since he wasn't sure how long he'd stay. He walked around the house, reacquainting himself with it. He took a deep breath, then hustled up the stairs to the second floor. He walked straight back to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, opening up the linen closet door. He squatted down and reached in, feeling for the false wall along the back of the bottom shelf. There was a small latch, easily missed if someone wasn't looking closely. He turned it and opened the wall piece, then pulled out 3 unopened bottles of whiskey.

He carried them down the stairs and set them on the counter in the kitchen. Then he sat on one of the chairs at the counter and stared at them. Finally he reached for one and held it in his hands, tipping it slightly. The last time he'd really wanted a drink was the night Taylor left. He'd actually driven to a liquor store and sat for over an hour in the parking lot before finally driving back home. He looked at the caramel colored liquid in the bottle. He could practically taste it, feel it burning as it went down his throat.

He set the bottle down and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

~nashville~

She was still angry when she got in the car and sped out of the parking lot. But within minutes, the anger drained out of her and she just felt conflicted. She thought about what he'd said, that he thought she wanted it both ways. That wasn't really true though. Was it? She thought about how it felt when he put his arms around her to comfort her. And she'd returned the embrace. It had felt so familiar. And his lips on hers.

For half a second, she'd wanted that. She'd needed that. She'd missed that. But she knew it was wrong. She'd told Teddy she wasn't a cheater and that was true. She'd worked hard to push down those feelings. She felt the tears welling up again, but this time they were for Deacon. She hadn't meant to be that harsh. She thought he'd understood. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe there's no way the two of us can truly be friends, that we can separate what we had before from where we are today.

If it had only been her, she might have been able to do it. But she had Maddie to think about. It had been a while since she'd thought about what the likelihood was that she and Teddy would ever tell Maddie the truth about Deacon. She was five now. Old enough to understand, if she took Teddy out of her daughter's life and replaced him with Deacon. As much as Maddie adored Deacon, she was definitely a daddy's girl. She thought Teddy hung the sun, the moon, and the stars, and she just couldn't think about blowing up her daughter's life by turning it upside down.

She needed to fix things with Deacon, smooth over what had happened that afternoon. But she'd give it the weekend, give them both time to cool down, and she'd call him Monday. They could talk, get through it, get back on track, and be ready for the CMA's. She took a deep breath, satisfied that she'd figured out a plan.

~nashville~

After a weekend of rain, Monday had dawned sunny and crisp. He was glad to be able to get out of the house. Fishing wasn't as good this late in the fall, but he decided to take the fishing boat out on the lake anyway. He'd almost driven back to Nashville, but he was glad he'd waited out the rain. He'd written a lot of songs, things he'd never share with Rayna, but would be good for him to do in clubs around town. His best songs always came from pain, and he felt like he had pain to spare. The songwriting result was satisfying. The Bluebird had just asked him to do a showcase, every third Thursday when he wasn't on the road, and it had felt good to build up his song catalog.

In the middle of a heavy rainstorm, he'd stood on the lawn and poured out all three bottles of whiskey. It had made him feel strong, doing that. He was over five years sober and, although the temptation had been strong, he'd been able to overcome it. Thinking about that made him think about Rayna and he frowned. He still wasn't ready to face her after what had happened at Sound Check. He knew she was expecting him to be at the CMA's the next night, but he wasn't ready for that.

There was only a light breeze and the sun felt good as he rowed out towards the center of the lake. He baited his hook and threw the line out in the water, then sat back and waited.

He'd done a lot of thinking, about Rayna, about where things were between them, about where things would be when he finally went back to Nashville. He considered whether he should cut ties with her, find someone else to tour with. He wasn't sure he could stop loving her, but he recognized that the proximity to her wasn't helping.

She was a loyal person, always had been. She'd stayed with him for eleven years, long after she should have left. And even when she did leave, it had been hard to fully disengage. The fact that she still considered him family, that she hired him back into her band, spoke volumes about her loyalty to people she cared about. He knew the things that had happened between the two of them were on him. All of that was laying at his feet. He'd tried her patience, had disappointed her over and over, had put her in a bad position countless times. And yet she'd never really given up on him. He laughed to himself. Even when she broke up with him, she took care of him. She gave him the house, so he'd have somewhere to go. She wouldn't badmouth him around town, so all his bridges weren't burned. She'd asked him back. He knew she was in a tight spot, but she could have figured something else out.

He squinted into the sun and sighed. He hated leaving her in the lurch, but she didn't really need him for this. She could sing the song on her own, just like she had at the Opry. If they won, she could accept the award on their behalf. She'd be disappointed, he knew, but he needed to give her the space she wanted. He needed to honor her boundaries. It might be the only way he could show her how he felt, but he needed to let her go.

~nashville~

Bucky called her on Tuesday morning. "Have you heard from Deacon?" he asked.

She frowned. "Actually, no. I called him yesterday, left a couple messages, but he hasn't called me back."

"Well, his cell phone is going straight to voice mail and he's not picking up his landline either. How were things on Friday? Did he say anything about being out of pocket?"

She felt a niggle of apprehension. "Well, we had a little bit of a disagreement and he wasn't real happy with me, but he didn't say anything about not being around." She bit her lip. "I don't know what to think, Buck."

"Do you want me to go by his house?"

She had a panicky feeling as Bucky's words started to sink in. She felt sick to her stomach. She took a deep breath. "Keep calling him, Buck," she said, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "I have to take Maddie to school and then I'll go by his house." And all the local bars. She wanted to cry.

As she hustled Maddie out to the car and put Daphne in her car seat, her mind was racing. She thought back to what she'd said to him after he kissed her. How she'd literally pushed him away. And it hadn't been that long since he'd broken up with Taylor. He'd been sober five years, but all it took were a couple highly charged, emotional situations, and he could be passed out somewhere…or worse.

Her panic ratcheted up as she drove as fast as she could to Maddie's school. Thankfully Maddie was chattering away to Daphne, who was babbling in return, instead of asking her usual stream of questions, demanding Rayna's attention. In her head she thought through the bars near his house, planning her route.

After she dropped Maddie off, she drove over to Deacon's. She drove slowly up and down the street, but she didn't see his truck. Her mouth felt dry and she was starting to get a headache. Her stomach felt tied up in knots. I pushed him over the edge. I let him get too close and he wasn't ready. This is what he always does, he walks away. What do I do if I find him in a bar somewhere? With increasingly anxious thoughts racing through her head, she almost blindly started driving up and down streets in East Nashville, looking for his truck. She alternated between sheer terror and relief that she didn't see his truck anywhere.

She came home after a long day of label meetings. The house was strangely quiet. "Deacon?" she called out. No answer. She thought he might be outside. One of the things they really liked about this bungalow in East Nashville was the backyard. It was a great place to sit and write or just sit and enjoy a nice day. She checked but he wasn't out there.

"Deacon?" she called out again as she walked through the kitchen and around to the bedroom. The bed was still unmade, clothes laying on the floor, just as she'd left it that morning. The only thing different was that Deacon wasn't in the bed. She glanced around the room and her eyes lit on his wallet and keys on the chest of drawers. She frowned and she also felt a little concerned.

She went down the hall towards the back bedroom, her heart in her throat. The door was cracked just a little and she swallowed hard before she pushed it open. She could see him lying on the bed, facing the wall. She saw a bottle of whiskey, three-quarters empty, and a glass sitting on the bedside table. "Deacon?" she called out. No answer.

She walked over to him and shook him. The odor of whiskey was overwhelming. "Deacon," she said, her voice sharp. "Wake up." He didn't react. She pulled at his arm until he was lying flat on the bed. "Deacon!" No response. "Deacon!" She could hear her voice rise with panic. She looked closely at him in the dimming light and wasn't sure if she actually saw his chest rise and fall. "Deacon!" she shouted, grabbing his shirt and shaking him.

She started to shake. She let go of his shirt and slowly lowered her trembling hand onto his chest. She was pretty sure she felt a heartbeat but it was hard to tell. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she murmured. "Deacon!" she screamed.

She ran from the room and grabbed the phone, fumbling with it as she tried to dial 9-1-1. "Please hurry!" she cried out to the dispatcher. "My boyfriend's passed out and I'm afraid he might be…." She couldn't say it, all she could do was sob hysterically.

He hadn't died that day, of course, or on any number of other days when she found him so wasted she couldn't tell if he was dead or alive. It had been the worst part of her life, the part that eventually became so common she had made the decision to leave. It had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, because she'd always felt like the only reason he was still alive was because she was there to make sure he was. She'd agonized over her decision until she finally realized that she just couldn't live that way any longer.

She didn't want this day to be like one of those.

Finally she pulled into a convenience store parking lot, convinced he wasn't in a bar, at least not one in this neighborhood. She pulled out her phone. Her hands were shaking as she scrolled down to Coleman's number. She pressed call and then lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Rayna," he answered. "How are…."

"Cole," she interrupted him. "Deacon's missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

She took a deep breath and realized tears were rolling down her cheeks. She wiped them away. "We had an argument. I said some things that…that hurt him, I think. And now he's gone."

"When was the last time you saw him? Or talked to him?"

She choked on a sob. "Friday." She rubbed her forehead. "I tried calling him yesterday but he never answered. Cole, we're supposed to perform…at the CMA's tonight. And he's missing." Her voice trailed away.

"I can come look for him."

"He's not at any of the places he always went. I'm over here now and I don't see his truck anyway." She swallowed hard. "Would you go to the cabin, Cole? I think he might be there."

"I can do that. Rayna?"

She was trying, and failing, to stop crying. "Yeah?"

"Please try to stay calm. I'll find him."

"Will you…will you call me?"

"I will."

"Cole, I'm so scared."

"I know. But he's been sober a long time, Rayna. Let's not think the worst." He cleared his throat. "I'll call you when I know something. It might be a while, so don't worry."

"Okay. Thanks, Cole." She hung up and then put her head down on the steering wheel and sobbed.

~nashville~

He frowned at the sight of a car pulling down the drive. Very few people knew about this place. He got up from where he was sitting on the porch and walked down towards the drive. He rolled his eyes when he saw Coleman get out of the car.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

Cole shut the door and, shaking his head, walked towards the porch steps. "You should know better than to take off and not tell anyone where you're going."

He scowled. "It's nobody's damn business what I do," he said, darkly.

Cole raised his eyebrows. "Well, it is when you're supposed to be performing at the CMA's with Rayna Jaymes. And she's the one who knows your history better than anyone."

"Rayna sent you up here?" He stormed down the porch and into the house.

Cole followed him in. "What did you expect, Deacon? She still worries about you."

"I ain't her problem." He scowled as he watched Cole look around. "I ain't been drinking, if that's what you're worried about."

Cole looked at him. "Did you think about it?"

He looked away. He put his hands on his hips and breathed in deeply, then looked back at his sponsor. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I did." He breathed out. "But I didn't."

Cole took a couple steps towards him. "Rayna told me y'all had a fight."

He shook his head and scowled. "Wadn't no fight. I thought she…well, it don't matter what I thought. I was wrong. I needed to get away." He glared at Cole. "I don't need no lecture, Cole."

Cole shook his head. "I'm not gonna lecture you." He gestured towards the porch. "Why don't we sit down?"

He hesitated, working his lip. Then finally he walked out the door and sat in one of the porch chairs. Cole followed him outside and sat in the chair next to him. At first, they just sat, looking out over the lake. "You were right," he said, finally, his voice quiet. "It's been hard, being this close to Rayna. But it just felt like, you know, things were different."

Cole leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and sighed. "The two of you have a lot of complicated history, Deacon, I know that. You know it, she knows it. Maybe the two of you can't stay away from each other, but you really need to figure out how to live your life without waiting for her."

He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "I get it. I know she made her choice. Teddy. And her girls."

Cole looked over at him. "She cares about you, Deacon. She loved you for a long time, was there for you long after she should've left. But she couldn't go on like that and she had no way of knowing if you'd ever stay sober."

He opened his eyes and looked at his sponsor, filled with pain for all the hurt and disappointment he'd caused Rayna. "I'm sober now," he said.

Cole nodded. "I know. But you couldn't do it when the two of you were together. Maybe that should tell you something."

He looked out over the lake. "Maybe," he said. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and worked his lip. Then he looked back at Cole. "I ain't going back today," he said. "I can't go back and stand on that stage with her. Not tonight."

Cole breathed in. "Okay. I can let her know." He stood up and walked over to Deacon, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Don't stay here too much longer though. I know it hurts, but you need to get back and face it all." Deacon nodded, but didn't say anything, and then Cole turned and walked down the porch and got in his car.

~nashville~

She kept looking at her phone, worried that she'd missed a call or a message. The time seemed to inch by, with each second feeling like it was an hour long. Mia was taking care of the girls and she was sitting in front of her vanity while her stylist worked on her hair. Her phone buzzed and she leaned forward to grab it. "Cole, thank God," she said, as she answered. "Did you find him?"

"Yeah, Rayna, he was at the cabin, like you thought." He paused. "He's not coming back tonight."

She sighed. "Why not?"

"I think he has some stuff to work through."

"Was he…?"

"No. He wasn't drinking. There was nothing there to suggest he had been."

She breathed out a sigh of relief. "How was he?" she asked.

"Like I said, he has some stuff to work through. I think he's maybe a little confused, but he's working on it."

She didn't want to say too much, since she didn't have privacy, but she thought they probably needed to air things out at some point. "Thanks, Cole," she said. "I appreciate you checking on him."

"Of course, Rayna," he said. "Good luck tonight."

She smiled sadly. "Thanks."

She was waiting on the side stage to go on to perform. Watty had agreed to fill in for Deacon and he was waiting with her. "How you doing, my little songbird?" he asked.

She gave him a little smile. "Okay." She touched his arm. "Thanks for doing this."

He shook his head. "My pleasure. It's a beautiful song."

She nodded. She hadn't told Teddy until the last minute that Deacon wasn't going to be there, that Watty was going to be on stage with her. He'd seemed to relax then but, to his credit, he didn't say anything about it. She'd been grateful Watty was available. He'd been there from the beginning, even before Deacon. "You're always there to take care of me when I need it, Watty," she said.

He looked at her knowingly. "It'll be okay, Rayna. You two will work it out. You always do."

She didn't have time to respond, as they got the signal to take the stage.

Rayna took a deep breath as they started to read the names of the songs nominated in the Song of the Year category. She smiled and applauded all the other songs and when they announced 'The Rivers Between Us', she smiled and looked over at Teddy. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, smiling encouragingly. She really didn't expect to win, so when Martina McBride said "And the CMA goes to…'The Rivers Between Us'. Rayna Jaymes and Deacon Claybourne, songwriters," she was a little stunned.

Teddy leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Congratulations," he said.

She smiled at him, then got up and walked towards the stage. It wasn't the first time she'd won a CMA, but this felt like such validation. Songwriting was not always easy, although she'd always felt like it had been for her and Deacon. But this song was special and she felt overwhelmed to be honored for this one. When she got to the microphone and had hugged Martina and then taken the award, she turned back and looked out over the audience, clapping and cheering enthusiastically. She breathed in, wishing Deacon had been there for this. It felt bittersweet.

She leaned into the mic. "Thank y'all so much," she said, then breathed out. "This is so amazing, you know? I think, of all the things we do, writing songs is so personal, so intimate. We put a little bit of ourselves out there, sometimes a lot of ourselves, and we hope what we write resonates with you." She paused and looked down at the award, then back out at the audience. "I'm sorry my wonderful cowriter, Deacon Claybourne, isn't here tonight. I would tell you that the real reason this song is a success is because of him. This is for you, Deacon!" She held up the award for a second, then cleared her throat. "Deacon always said that every song is just three chords and the truth and that's definitely true for this one. It came from our hearts and it clearly spoke truth to you. Thank you so much!"

She had tears in her eyes as she walked off the stage. She would talk to him when he got home. They needed to fix this. She needed to fix this.

~nashville~

He sat for a long time on the porch after Cole left. He thought about what he'd said, about how he needed to face it all with Rayna. He wasn't sure what that looked like or where they would be at the end of that, but he knew hiding out at the cabin wasn't the answer. He sighed deeply as he looked out over the lake. He'd head back to Nashville the next day. That was the first step.

Fortunately it didn't take long to find her car. He parked his truck and walked back over, leaning against it as he waited. About five-thirty he saw her coming across the parking lot and he could see the frown on her face when she saw him standing at her car.

"What are you doing here, Deacon?" Taylor asked.

He tried to smile. She looked good, he thought. He felt a momentary regret that he'd let her slip through his fingers. But she deserved better than what he could give her. "I wanted to come tell you I was sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "You didn't need to do that. I told you I didn't blame you."

He nodded. "I know. You said that. But I still gotta say it." He shoved his hands in his pockets and breathed in. "I know I screwed up. With you. I wish I hadn't."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Deacon…."

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I ain't asking you to change your mind. I know I messed that up. For good. I just wanted to tell you it wasn't you. It was never you. I wish I coulda done better by you. It's just, she and me, I don't know what we are, didn't know. It was just hard for me to let go, you know? And I wasn't fair to you."

She stood there, looking at him, and then she sighed. "No, you weren't. But I didn't have to stick around as long as I did either. It was hard for me to face the reality." She looked away. "I hate to say it, but I really have missed you. We had some really good times, back in the beginning, and I miss that." She looked back at him. "I hope you figure it out. I meant what I said – you deserve to be happy, to have that family. Don't let yourself believe you don't."

He felt sad, looking at her. He nodded. "I want to believe that," he said. "I gotta try to move on. It's hard to move on from all that history, but that's what I gotta work on."

She reached out and rubbed his arm briefly. "Good luck, Deacon."

He nodded and then he put his hands in his pockets. He hesitated just a moment, but there really wasn't anything else to say, so he walked back to his truck. He sat there for a few minutes, watching Taylor drive away. He chewed on his lip for a minute, thinking about her, thinking about what he needed to do next. Then he finally started the truck and headed for home.

It was two days after the CMA's. He was in the kitchen when he heard a knock on the door. He wiped off his hands, putting the dishcloth down on the counter, and walked into the living room. He could see her through the curtain over the door and his heart skipped a beat. He opened the door. "Hey," he said.

She smiled. "Hey." She held up the statuette. "We won." She held it out to him and he took it. It felt surreal to hold it in his hand. He looked at the award and then back at her, unable to form words. She breathed out. "Can we talk?"