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Vivian gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure it feels like that now. I remember feeling that way after what happened with Deck's father. Like I never wanted to risk putting myself through such pain again."
Colleen returned her smile. Of all the women at the table, after what she went through, Vivian could understand Colleen's reluctance to "get back on the horse," as Dory put it.
Vivian's story was, of course, much more tragic than Colleen's, one she hadn't learned about until several years after it happened. Vivian had married young and had her son Daniel, who everyone called Deck. Her husband was abusive and Vivian regularly went to the emergency room with broken bones and other injuries. Despite the urging of her friends and family, she couldn't make herself leave him.
Until the night he went after Deck. As her husband stood over her crying five-year-old with a fire poker, she got his shotgun down from the rack over the front door and made sure he never lifted a hand against her or her son ever again.
Fortunately, the sheriff, who had been called out to the house on several occasions and had witnessed Vivian's many injuries himself, filed it as self-defense and never pressed any charges.
"And then I found Frank, and we've been together almost forty years. And I still love the heck out of him, even though he does drive me crazy." She laughed.
Colleen wanted to protest that not all tragedy turned into a happy ending like the Deckers', where a wonderful, kind man came out of the woodwork, adopted your son and gave you two more. But a little voice in the back of her head demanded, if Vivian Decker could get over an abusive marriage and having to kill her husband to protect her son, could Colleen not get over being cheated on?
"You make a good point," she said, then excused herself, explaining she had to get ready for her shift at the ranch.
"I thought you were a nurse?" Susan said, her red tinted eyebrows knitting in confusion.
"She's bartending out there a few nights a week to make some extra money," Eileen explained.
"Among other things, divorce does a number on your bank account," Colleen quipped. "JT has been nice enough to give me some extra work."
"Talk about hot," Susan said, peering at Colleen over the top of her reading glasses. "That JT certainly went through some changes for the better since you were kids."
"And I don't think he's dated anyone since that fiancée of his left him high and dry," Dory said.
Fiancée? Fiancée? The word was like a punch to the gut. She mumbled something about the ugly duckling turning into a swan and retreated to her room before anyone could see the shock on her face.
It reverberated through her, making her heart race as her fingers went icy cold.
JT had been engaged. He'd loved another woman enough to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.
And he'd never told her.
If he's just a friend and you don't see a future with him, why do you care so much about his past?
But why wouldn't he say something? God knows I've yammered on about Gregory.
Maybe he doesn't like to talk about it. Maybe it's not that important to him anymore.
Or maybe you're not important enough to share it with.
The idea of it had her guts knotting in her stomach. And why should that bother her at all—the idea that she was as unimportant to him as she told herself he was to her?
Her stomach pitched and she considered texting JT to cancel. But no, he needed the help and she couldn't leave him short-handed at the last minute.
She needed to pull on her big girl pants and get herself out to the ranch. As for the fiancée? She was none of Colleen's business.
JT could sense something was off with Colleen from the moment he saw her at the bar that night. Her smile was as wide as ever, but noticeably stiff around the corners. When he asked her about it, she blew him off with an explanation of a long day at the hospital.
After the last customer left he went up behind her and started to gently rub her shoulders. Was it him, or did she noticeably tense under his touch?
Still, when he said, "See you at my place?" as they were locking up the bar, she nodded and returned his kiss with her regular enthusiasm.
Once they got to the house, JT mixed two vodka tonics and settled down next to Colleen on the couch. As had become their routine most nights when she worked out at the ranch, after the bar closed, they retreated to his house to have a drink and watch TV—right now Trevor Noah was offering his bitingly funny observations about current events—before they retired for what would be, hands down, the highlight of his day.
Though it meant delaying gratification compared to those first weeks when he had basically ravished her the second he stepped into the cabin, he liked this better. He liked hanging out with her when it wasn't just about sex. He liked snuggling on the couch with her, laughing and enjoying a TV show while they talked about what was happening in their lives.
He liked how comfortable he felt with her, how natural it felt for him to have her in his house, in his bed.
