He Stopped Loving Her Today

Weekday long-hour jobs kept us apart - the grueling foundry for him, greasy diner for me, leaving band practice wherever he could fit it in, whenever. We all lived for weekends playing our hearts out on stage. But even then, Midnight often finalized new songs independently, leaving me and the band to catch up or take a backseat while he took center stage.

Watching his brow knit in focus as his pick glided across the strings, I felt a pang of exclusion I tried to ignore. We were chasing fame together, I reminded myself. Yet Midnight seemed to be pulling ahead, away from me.

.

.

Dear Midnight,

Woke up this morning thinking about that old song of ours. The one we used to dance to in the kitchen, laughing and twirling till we were dizzy. Felt like forever ago now.

Sure do miss moments like that. Days here feel more lonely than ever without my partner in crime. The house is so empty and quiet now.

I know your life is exciting, traveling the world and singing for crowds. I'm still so proud of you for following those dreams. It's all I ever wanted for you, really.

I can't help wishing we could be chasing our dreams together instead of you chasing yours there and me stuck here. But I know you can't turn back time.

Anyway, I'll let you go. I still love you. Write me if you can. Even just a few words so I know you're okay.

I love you always,

Sara

.

.

Sweeping mascara on my lashes, I paused as Midnight emerged from the bedroom in a new blue plaid country shirt and jeans. He'd even had his shaggy hair trimmed while he was out earlier.

"You look nice tonight," I said carefully.

"Yeah, figured I should clean up a bit." He avoided my gaze as he gathered his guitar case and canvas bag by the door. My stomach knotted.

"Any reason why?" I pressed.

Midnight hesitated. "Yeah, thought I better look decent. Someone is coming to watch the band tonight."

"Really?" I said excitedly. "A bigger venue?" Clubs would often steal lucrative entertainment from each other, and it wasn't unusual for an owner to come into someone else's bar. All is fair, I guess.

"Not exactly..." Midnight trailed off evasively. I had to pry some more from him.

"An agent then?" He gave a noncommittal grunt. "For you or the whole band?"

"Mostly me, I think." His words sank like a stone in my gut. So, he was getting scouted solo now. He sat and pulled on his boots. "Are you ready to go?"

The drive to the Roadhouse was painfully silent. Thoughts swirled dizzyingly - would this mysterious figure whisk Midnight away? Leave me behind? Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I watched Midnight tune his guitar, his focus elsewhere. Who was I now to him with a potential contract on the table? Had I become just another bandmate? The distance between us suddenly felt vast and cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, awaiting the next round of unfamiliar songs sung in perfect harmony by one voice alone.

"How about we pick up the pace a little bit? We're gonna get those boots scootin' with one of the all-time classic line dance tunes." The crowd shouted and clapped, and people converged onto the dance floor.

"That's right, y'all. Time to grab your partner and get ready for a hoedown! Here's our take on the one and only 'Cotton Eye Joe'!" I hollered, jumping up and down.

John picks up the fiddle and launches into 'Cotton Eye Joe,' the crowd whoops and grabs a partner.

Midnight and I traded the fast-paced lyrics back and forth, watching the dancers twirling and heel-toeing around the floor.

Winding down, we both sang the chorus as the couples swung each other around for the big finale.

"Y'all did great out there! Let's hear it for John on that fiddle!" I hollered to their enthusiastic cheers.

The lights dim, and couples begin to filter onto the dance floor.

"We're gonna slow things down now with one of the most beautiful ballads in country music history. A true modern classic." It was one of my favorites, and the crowds always loved it.

"That's right folks, grab that someone special and get ready to sway. We're about to sing our version of the one and only Garth Brooks' 'The Dance.'"

Midnight starts finger-picking the gentle acoustic guitar intro. I sing the first verse softly into the microphone as the couples embrace and begin slowly revolving on the dance floor as they hold each other close.

I allow my voice to build on the swelling choruses. Midnight joins in harmony, his deeper voice complementing mine. Midnight plucks the strings delicately while I flawlessly hit the iconic high note as the song nears its end. The band brings the instrumentation down gently to allow my voice to shine. The crowd erupted into rapturous applause, and I blew out a big breath, smiled, and nodded my thanks.

"How about one more hand for my talented partner Midnight up here on guitar tonight!" I hollered.

"We're gonna take a short break, but don't go nowhere. We'll be right back for more!" Midnight said, fist-pumping.

I sat alone during the break, unable to watch Midnight plan his future. I was starting to field questions from the band because they sensed his change. They had questions that I struggled to answer myself. I didn't want to add any doubt about what they already had. Disruptions in band relations transferred to our music.

Things had felt off with Midnight lately. Little signs I tried ignoring - mysterious calls, new songs without me. Jokes about me doing solos. It was all coming back to hit me in the face.

Watching him shine on stage, I couldn't shake the feeling he was moving on.

This dream we shared once seemed to be unraveling at the seams. He was keeping something big from me. I was sure of it now. While I clung to our memories, Midnight looked at his future alone.

The crowd cheered as we took the stage again. I sang along, hiding my fading hopes. He shined brighter than ever, and I felt shadows creeping in.

"So, when are you leaving," I asked on the ride home from the Rattlesnake, getting right to the point. I looked at his profile in the dashboard light, but it gave nothing away.

"I'm not sure I am, Sara. The agent was vague." He hesitated. "He said I had a good backup band and didn't know if I could make a solo career."

I knew the band wouldn't go. The band members were all family men with kids, and the band was their weekend fun and a way to enjoy their musical talents. They had too many responsibilities.

"What did he think about us together?" I asked, hopefully.

"I asked him that, darlin'. If you think I'm forgetting about you, I'm not."

"But?" I pressed.

"He told me to list how many couples, duos, whatever I could think of. He even pointed out that Faith and Tim recorded solo for the most part."

I thought for a moment, and every male-female duo was successful solo before collaborating. It was true. Johnny and June, Garth and Trisha, Clint and Lisa had successful single careers before collaborating.

"He said he thought you were good enough that you could join me once I got something going in Nashville. He said couples that tour together are very successful, just not recording."

I felt a sense of relief that, eventually, I could join him.

"So, you're really going to Nashville without me?"

"Yeah, babe, it's the best move for my career right now. We can't afford to both go, and I need to focus on making this happen," he said calmly, almost detached.

Midnight's words hit me like a punch to the gut. Go to Nashville without me? My mind reeled. This was different than the plan - we were supposed to chase fame side by side.

"But...but we've always talked about doing this together," I stammered.

Midnight sighed, his eyes avoiding mine. "I know, babe. But we just don't have the money for both of us to make the move right now."

My heart fractured. We were partners, lovers - Nashville was meant to be our shared dream.

I never pushed for marriage, so there was no way he could feel pressured by me. I always thought we'd marry in Nashville once we'd made it. Maybe a big wedding with famous names in the business, showing how we'd really made it.

I searched Midnight's face for regret, for any hint this was hurting him too. But he just gazed ahead stoically. Meanwhile, the future we had painted in vivid colors was crumbling to black and white in my mind.

"I'm doing this for us, for our future together. Don't you see that?" he finally said.

"I see it, but also that your dreams come first, no matter what."

"Once the tour starts up, I'll have everything set up for you to join me," he assured me in a business-like tone. As if discussing contract terms, not severing our destinies.

"I thought we were in this together, Midnight, as a team. I thought we'd support each other's dreams," I murmured, although I felt my hope melting away. I was disappointed and frustrated. This wasn't supposed to happen this way.

"We are, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made to get where we want to be. You'll be okay here. Think of it as an opportunity for you to work on your own music while I'm gone," Midnight said, clearly ready to move on. "Look, this is the way it has to be. I need to do this, and I hope you understand. We'll still be together, and I'll be back before you know it."

"Yeah, I get it. Your career comes first. Just go and do what you need to do."

"Sara, I'm doing this for us, for our future together. Don't you see that? I love you, and I want to make a life together. I'll be back, and we'll get married and have kids," he said, smiling at the thought. "I love you, baby. I'll be back. Wait for me."

I couldn't respond. My emotions were in my throat, ready to spill over.

He gave my hand a perfunctory squeeze. But the reassurance rang hollow compared to the roaring doubt and anguish flooding my whole being.

I turned my face to hide the hot tears now spilling down my cheeks. The gleaming city of promise now taunted me. While Midnight - the man I thought I knew better than myself - felt further away than Nashville could ever be.

.

.

Dear, you,

Another Friday night alone tonight. Got me remembering how we used to go out dancing every weekend. Now the only dancing I do is with the mop while I clean up the diner. Not quite the same, ha.

I saw pictures of your ​show out west. Looked like such an exciting life. Here it's just the same quiet days, one after the next.

Are we fooling ourselves, thinking there's still a chance we could find our way back to each other someday? Maybe too much has changed. You have your world now, and I got mine.

Anyway, I don't mean to be a downer. I really am glad you're living your dream. Just feels further away than ever from mine these days.

Take care of yourself out there.

Write soon or better yet call. I miss hearing your voice. I love you .

Sara

.

.

We played one more gig before he left back at the Rattlesnake Roadhouse. He announced his departure before we started.

​The honky tonk buzzed with excitement as ​we ​went through the sound check. Midnight, ​ever charismatic, steps up to the microphone with a mischievous glint​.​

​"Well, howdy there, folks! Are y'all ready to have a boot-stompin', heart-pumpin,' good ol' time tonight?​" He laughed at the cheers and applause. ​"That's what I like to hear! Now, let me introduce you to the incredible talents that'll be serenadin' y'all tonight.​"

​My heart was heavy, knowing this was the last time I'd sing and play with these guys. They were like family. If their less-than-enthusiastic response to Midnight's introduction was noted, the crowd didn't see it. I'm not even sure if Midnight noticed it. In his mind, he was already gone.

​"First up, we got the heart and soul of this outfit, the one who'll make your feet tap and your heart swoon - give it up for the lovely Sara on rhythm and vocals!​" I forced a smile, stepped in front, and waved. The crowd response helped soothe my heart.

​"Now, you ain't seen nothin' till you've seen this man work his magic on that steel guitar and fiddle. He's a true virtuoso, John, y'all!​" John gave an unsmiling nod and ​tipped his cowboy hat​.

​"On the low end, holdin' it down and keepin' it groovin', we got the one and only Jerry on bass! Trust me, when you feel that rhythm in your bones, you'll know it's Jerry layin' down the heartbeat of this band!​" Jerry twanged a few bassy notes​ to hoots and hollers.

​"Last but not least, we got the backbone, the rhythm-maker, and the heart-pounder - the man who keeps us all in line, Bob on drums! When Bob's at the wheel, there ain't a foot in the house that won't be tappin' along to the beat!​"​ Bob ​twirled his drumsticks, and the crowd erupted​s in cheers​.

"Now, folks, I know you came here for a good time, and I promise you, you won't be disappointed. We've got a little somethin' for everyone - from toe-tappin' tunes to tear-in-your-beer ballads. So, grab a drink, find a partner, and let's make this a night to remember!​"

​A night to remember. Our last night was the only thing I could think about.

.

.

Dearest Midnight,

Looks like you're getting real famous now. Heard that new song of yours on the radio last night and then just saw your video. Made me smile, but also kinda sad seeing you and missing you. You know how much I love you .

The days here go by slow, and lonely without my man to laugh, dance, and get into trouble. It's real quiet now.

I know you had to follow your dreams, though. And I'm proud of you, honest I am. Just gets real long waiting for the day I get to be in your arms again.

Well, I'll let you enjoy that big star life. Don't work too hard and forget to call sometime. Love hearing your voice.​

I love you ,

Sara

.

.

The week after he left for Nashville was agonizing. ​ I spent that first week with my parents. They made sincere efforts, but I was inconsolable. The hurt cut too deep. ​ My dreams were entangled with thoughts of him, and every waking moment seemed to revolve around the wish to hear his voice again.

Every day, I held on to the hope that he would call​ ​and ask me to join him. But the silence was deafening, and the lack of contact only intensified my ​bleakness.

As I stepped into the now-empty house, it felt like a hollow shell of what it once was. ​I​t echoed the laughter, the love, the music we shared. All that remained were memories​. Everything else was cleared out. Gone.

​The answering machine blinked with a glimmer of hope—four messages. ​I listened, anticipating his voice, his reassurance that everything would be all right​,​ but each message passed without his familiar tone. Still, I convinced myself he must be busy, caught up in the whirlwind of ​Nashville.​

​It was a mix of mundane messages​,​ but one was the manager at Rattlesnake, where we used to play together. He wanted to discuss the possibility of me performing there, with or without the band. My heart swayed between excitement and sorrow. It was a bittersweet reminder of what we once had, and the prospect of returning to the stage without him felt like a painful compromise.

Feeling disconnected from the band since Midnight's departure, I decided to reach out to them. Their responses were a crushing blow. Some needed a break from music, while others had already moved on to different bands. It was a stark reminder of how much things had changed in such a short time.

Then came the final blow—John's revelation that Midnight had contacted him. There was an opening in a Nashville band, and Midnight had seized the opportunity. Though I understood he was pursuing his dreams, the hurt and anger gnawed at me. It was as if he had left me behind, discarding our musical partnership without a second thought.

The ache in my heart only deepened, realizing that our paths had diverged, and he was moving forward while I was left behind, struggling to find my own way. Once so bright, the hopes of singing together again in Nashville now felt like a distant and unattainable dream.

The manager encouraged me and suggested I open for another band. It would allow me to ease into performing by myself, and it would help because the crowd knew me from playing there for five years. I accepted the offer with the thought that this would be my place. Small-town girl in a honky tonk.

It would also bring in badly needed money. I chose to keep the house, and although I had always covered rent and food, it consumed my entire paycheck. The extra would allow me to live a bit because Midnight usually covered eating out and some of our stage clothing.

That week I worked on my set list and practiced. The tunes would all be different than what I sang with the band. I knew this was the start of my career, no matter where it took me, near or far.

.

.

Dear love,

Heard your brand new song on the radio again today. You're getting so famous now. I'm proud of you. I really am.

But it's hard hearing your voice everywhere while you're still gone. The house feels so empty without you. I miss laughing on the porch together. Dancing in the kitchen while dinner burned. The little moments, you know?

Don't get me wrong - I'm happy you're out living your dream. You were born for those big city lights. Me, though, this small ​town life is all I know. It's just not the same alone.

I know you're busy being a star. But don't forget about me back here, missing you. Hoping someday you'll come home, even for a little while. We could pick up right where we left off.

Well, I'll let you go. Just wanted to say hi, that I'm thinking of you. Write when you can.

I love you ,

Sara

.

.

"Hello, y'all! I'm Sara Montgomery, and I'm thrilled to be in this here honky tonk again. I'm gonna take you on a little journey with me tonight. ​I'm here at the Rattlesnake, where the memories of love and heartache linger in the air like sweet melodies." I held my guitar up. "I've got my old faithful acoustic guitar right here, and I aim to share​ my music with y'all."

​I looked out at the crowd and knew that it was me they were waiting for. Just me. No one else.

​"Well, darlin', we're gonna ​w​altz to a timeless classic that's touched hearts for generations.​"

​A​ certain kind of hush falls when the strings meet my fingertips, and I see their curious eyes fixed upon me, waiting to be taken on this journey.​ I​ started strumming the opening chords of the Tennessee Waltz, and a cheer went out as couples moved out onto the dance floor.

As I st​o​od there under these warm, dim lights, I could feel the stories of the past​.. tonight, it's just me and this six-string companion of mine, ready to pour my soul into each verse, each chorus.

"I was dancin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz​..."

I covered Tammy to Dolly to LeAnne to Linda and sang my songs to a promising reception.