Author's Note: This one didn't work out like I originally envisioned, but it wouldn't leave me alone so I wanted to post it anyway. I've been playing around with form lately-stories that are entirely dialogue, no dialogue, etc.-and that came into play here. I hope that you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Deacon hated birthday parties. Despite being a guitarist, he hated any situation that put him in a spotlight. It was why he was glad Juliette had the sense to make his party a performance event. At least that way he could linger against the wall, watching everyone sing and pretend that he was enjoying himself.

Truth be told, he hadn't expected Rayna to show up, let alone the wave of emotions that engulfed him once she started to speak. He listened as she went on about how without him there'd be no her, only to start singing a song she'd written for him as a gift of sorts. Even when they were together, they'd never been the gift giving type of couple. Sure, they'd exchange presents on birthdays and Christmases, but it was more of a formality than anything else.

A memory assaulted him without warning; a rainy morning when she'd greeted him in bed with a new guitar for his birthday. He'd smashed an older one a little over six months before in an alcohol fueled haze. He listened when she told him that, yes, this was a birthday gift, but it was also a demonstration of trust and a celebration of his newfound sobriety. While said sobriety only managed to last for a few more months before he had another bout with the bottle, they'd spent the rest of that particular morning curled up in bed as he played. When the rain stopped they went out for lunch before coming back and watching Old Yeller on the couch. It might not have been the most perfect way to celebrate, she had said with a laugh, but she was more than willing to share it with him.

He caught Rayna's gaze as she sang, her eyes locking with his, saying more in one look than the lyrics could ever say. He hadn't heard back from her after confronting her via text about the divorce. As much as he knew it probably shouldn't, it hurt to know she hadn't come to him with the truth. Finding out from some tabloid made it hurt so much worse, a fact he knew was probably ridiculous, and yet it helped confirm the fact he'd known something was wrong.

"Sunrise hurts as much as you…you both come up when I don't want you to…"

As Rayna sang, he thought about everything that happened in Chicago. The kiss in the elevator, the text that was a clear invitation as far as he was concerned, Teddy showing up at her room. Deacon wondered if Rayna knew he'd had every intention of showing up that night, let alone if it would have made a difference. Having read some of the articles printed and posted online, he was aware of the speculation surrounding their relationship. True, over the years a picture of them standing close together at a party or making eyes across a stage had added fuel to the fire, but they'd never crossed that line the way the tabloids at times speculated. He could only imagine what her showing up to something in support of him would do, and silently prayed it wouldn't cause more grief for her than it already might have.

Rayna's song slowly drew to a close and despite his desire for composure, Deacon felt a little bit of pride swell up in his chest. As a multi-platinum, award winning artist, it wasn't often she played stages as small and arguably low key as the Bluebird. He was glad to see that no matter the size of the audience, they were all rooting for her.

And even if he still felt hurt that she didn't confide in him, so was he.