Deacon sat alone on the balcony, listening to the waves crash along the south Florida shore line. The latest and greatest rehab center Rayna had checked him into should have been paradise. All he could think about was "her". The sunset and ocean breezes only reminded him of a trip to Mexico he'd taken with Rayna a few years ago during happier times.

He'd been in rehab for over 5 months now. His 5th attempt at beating his alcohol and drug habit. When Watty had told him it was a 6 month program he'd balked and refused to go.

"6 damn months? No goddamn way, Watt! I ain't doin it!" he'd snapped

"You either agree, or you're fired. If you won't get help, there's no room for you on this tour, or in this band anymore. You've become too much of a liability. Rayna can't depend on you to make shows. Hell, Deacon…she can't even depend on you to make rehearsals anymore!" Watty had snapped back

"Where is she? I wanna talk to her."

"She doesn't want to see you, Deacon! Not until you get help!"

He'd tried to call Rayna several times in the weeks after Watty proposed the latest rehab center. He'd tried to stop by rehearsals only to be escorted away by Rayna's security people.

He'd lost track of how many messages, letters, and cards he'd sent her. She hadn't responded to any of them.

He only vaguely remembered the last time he'd seen her at the cabin. He'd only been out of rehab a short time. His fourth failed attempt at sobriety.

The sun gleaming off the Cumberland river, and Rayna standing over him yelling about the bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table half empty was his first memory of whatever transpired that night and the following morning.

"YOU JUST WOKE UP AND STARTED DRINKING?" she'd yelled as he groggily awoke to a slap on the shoulder

"Baby, I just….I couldn't sleep…I…."

"YOU JUST GOT OUT OF REHAB AND YOU'RE DRINKING! DON'T TOUCH ME! DO YOU REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT LAST NIGHT, WHAT YOU ASKED ME?" she demanded as he stood confused and dazed, trying to reach for her

"What did I ask you?"

She'd slipped a ring off her left hand, tossing it to the floor with a ping as it bounced off the hardwood. Deacon scrambled for it realizing it was the engagement ring he'd bought before he'd gone to rehab the 4th time. He'd planned to propose when the time was right, but apparently he'd done it the night before after taking some pills. He rubbed his temples trying to recall anything from the night before. It was all a blank. He couldn't even remember picking Rayna up from her rehearsal, or the drive to the cabin.

"RAYNA…RAYNA…." He'd tried to stop her, but she was more upset than he'd ever seen her. Completely refusing to even let him touch her as she stormed out to his truck, driving away, and leaving him stranded at the cabin alone.

Watty had shown up the next morning to bring his truck back and propose one of the best rehab programs in the United States. It was in the Florida Keys, almost a 16 hour drive from Nashville.

He'd refused, leaving Watty no choice, but to fire him.

After weeks of failed attempts to just talk to Rayna, he'd tearfully called Watty from a park bench outside the hall where she'd been rehearsing.

"I'll go." Was all he said when Watty answered

"Can I see her for just a minute? PLEASE?" he'd begged when Watty came out to greet him

"OK, she's taking a break, but ONLY a few minutes. Then we need to get you cleaned up and on a plane to Florida."

Rayna's demeanor had been icy at best as Watty led Deacon into her dressing room. She clearly wasn't happy Watty had let him in.

"He's going. Just talk to him for a minute. He'll be gone 6 months, OK?" Deacon had heard Watty tell her as he waited outside her door

He could tell it was taking everything she had not to cry. She stayed on the opposite side of the room, refusing to let him get close. Her main security guy stayed in the room the whole time. Watty was just outside the door ready to get him cleaned up and on his way to rehab as soon as he was done with Rayna.

"You look like hell!" she said barely meeting his gaze

"I feel like hell." He tried to smile

"I'll have Watty get you some clean clothes. When was the last time you had a shower, or a decent meal?" she asked

"I dunno. Ray…I….I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…I didn't know…" he stammered unable to even form a sentence

He glanced at his reflection in the large dressing room mirror. His clothes were dirty and rumpled, like he'd been sleeping in them. He honestly couldn't recall the last meal he'd eaten, the last hot shower he'd taken, when he'd last slept, or where. All he'd thought about for weeks was talking to Rayna. Now that she was in front of him he could barely speak. He knew he was at an all time low.

"Miss Jaymes…they're ready for you." One of Rayna's PA's had poked his head in to signal Rayna the band was ready to get back to work

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm gonna get better this time. I promise. Please say you'll be here when I get back?" he pleaded with such sadness in his eyes it nearly broke Rayna's heart

"I can't do that this time, Deacon. You need to get better for yourself." She quickly left the room not wanting to break down in front of him

"C'mon, Deke. I'll take you to the house to get a shower and pack some clothes." Watty said as he led Deacon out of the rehearsal hall.

Deacon hadn't been to the East Nashville home he'd shared with Rayna in weeks. He really couldn't remember much about where he'd been. After taking a good hard look at himself in that dressing room mirror, he could see why Rayna wanted nothing to do with him.

She was right. He looked like hell. His hair was a mess, his clothes were a mess, he was a mess. Dark circles under his eyes. Some bruising on his jawline, probably from a bar fight he couldn't remember.

Rayna had moved all of her belongings out of the house. The closet was almost bare without her clothes and shoes. All that hung in the sparse closet were Deacon's jeans, denim shirts, and a couple pairs of boots.

The bathroom vanity was empty, and the kitchen counter tops bare.

"When did she move out?" he asked Watty

"Couple weeks ago."

Watty accompanied him all the way to Florida. He made sure Deacon was checked into a detox room before he left to go back to Nashville.

"It's done. He's all checked in. It's an intense program. He can't have any visitors or even phone contact for the first 90 days. You made the right choice. He needs to do this for himself. You can't give him any false hope or indication that you'll be there when this is over." Watty tried to convince Rayna she'd done the right thing, taking the tough love approach, when he called her from the plane back en route to Nashville

"Why does it feel so wrong?" she sobbed

"You love him. This is for the best. You need to just let him go. He's never gonna get better if he thinks he always has you to fall back on. He needs to stand on his own two feet and do this for himself. You can't help him, or fix this. Only he can do that, and he needs to find the strength to do that on his own. The best thing you can do is let him go."

"I'm not sure I can do that, Watty. I love him so much. Why can't he love me enough to just stop the booze and pills?"

"Sweetheart, if he could, he would, but he's always gonna have this monkey on his back! You're young. I love Deke like a son. He's not a bad person. He just has problems, but you can do so much better. You need to move on and find love with someone who can give you the life you deserve. If you love him, let him go."

Deacon thought the first 90 days were agonizing, but it was nothing compared to the last 60 days. He'd tried numerous times to call Rayna since being given phone privileges. He'd left tearful messages begging her to call him. He'd written letters almost daily for 5 months without a single response. He'd sent her roses at least 6 times. Nothing worked. She hadn't bothered to call or write. She was over 1000 miles away and he was stuck for another 30 days.

He'd made some friends and had quite a bit of freedom now that he'd made it this far. He spent time walking the beech, writing sad songs about lost love, and praying that maybe if he completed the program and stayed sober he'd have a chance to make it all up to Rayna when he got back to Nashville.

His hopes were crushed late one night as he came back from a beech walk. He'd avoided TV and tabloids for over 5 months. First because he wasn't allowed as part of the rehab program, but then by choice. He didn't want to hear the negative press about his stint in rehab, or his break up with Rayna.

Several of the guys were in a common area watching the 10 o clock news as he passed by in the hallway on his way back to his room.

"In entertainment news, Queen of country Rayna Jaymes will wed new love Teddy Conrad this weekend. The wedding and reception will take place at the Belle Meade country club just outside of Nashville. Many of country's biggest stars are said to be attending. Rumor has it the couple is expecting a baby girl in March."

Deacon's heart nearly hit the floor. "Engaged…pregnant….." it was almost incomprehensible as he continued on to his room in a haze

"How could she do this to him? Why? They never even really broke up officially, never actually sat down and talked or had the "it's over" conversation." He thought back. There were so many gaps in his memory

"Who the fuck is Teddy Conrad?" he punched the wall several times in frustration

Four weeks passed before he felt able to control his anger enough to call Rayna again. Of course she didn't answer. She hadn't answered in almost 6 months. Now he knew why. He'd be out of rehab in 2 days. He'd hoped Rayna would be waiting like the other 4 times, but now he was sure she wouldn't.

He wanted a drink for the first time in a couple months.

"What the hell is there to stay sober for now?" he thought as he listened to Rayna's voicemail greeting

"Hey…ahhhh….it's Deacon, AGAIN! I guess congratulations are in order, huh? Look, Ray I know I made your life hell. I guess you don't owe me an explanation, but you could have told me. Hell, you could have waited and officially ended our relationship before you married someone else. I don't get it. Did the last 11 years mean anything? I guess nothin really much matters now, huh? Well…congratulations on the marriage and the baby. Nothin left to say at this point. For what it's worth…I'll always love you. Goodbye, Ray. I won't bother you again." His voice cracked as he finished his message and hung up