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“How long were you married, Mrs. G?” Blake is sitting on the couch behind me, playing with my hair.
“Thirty years.” Leann smiles while she files her nails.
“There is no way you’re old enough to have been married that long!”
Leann’s laugh fills the small room. “Of course I am. We were married at seventeen, but our marriage license says twenty-two,” she says with a wink.
“Did you fake your marriage like this jerk did?” Blake tugs on my hair, eliciting a chuckle from me.
“Well, we signed our certificate at our wedding when we were twenty-two, but we both knew long before then that what we had was forever. Besides,” she looks directly at me. “Gibson’s never fake anything.”
My memories are pulled back to all the times Colt referred to me as his wife. All the times he showed up for me. All the times he never asked more of me than I was willing to give.
“How did you know?” One thing I'm grateful for with Leann is with as many questions as she asks you. She doesn't mind them in return. I’ve never felt like I was pestering her. She doesn’t get annoyed, and always takes her time to answer you completely.
“That’s an easy one.” Blake and I simultaneously sit up a little straighter as we listen. “We had been together for maybe three months, when John first asked me to marry him. Of course, I told him he was crazy and reminded him we were only seventeen, but he just shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘what better time is there?’ The next time was on my eighteenth birthday. This time he brought me flowers, though. I told him we had only just graduated from high school. Again he said, ‘what better time is there?” Leann closes her eyes as she continues. “That man proposed to me so many times. Each time I told him no, he came back with the same question. And on my twenty-second birthday when he asked me, I finally told him yes. That night I asked him when we should get married and he looked me dead in the eyes and said, ‘what better time than now?”
“When did you get married?” Blake asks.
Leann opens her eyes and looks at us from her chair, smiling and shaking her head. “We got married later that day.”
“What? So you held him off for five years, and then married him the same day you said yes?”
“I sure did.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized he was right. When you love someone, what better time is there to show it than every moment you get? Johnny made it a point to come home with flowers, cards, handwritten notes, you name it. And every time I told him he didn’t need to go through the trouble, he would just smile and say, ‘what better time?”
I feel like I’ve been hit straight in the chest. “I’m sorry… so when did you know?” I need the answer as much as I need the air to come back to my lungs.
“Oh honey, I knew right when he asked me to marry him the first time. What sane boy would ask you something so wild if he didn’t already know that he was set on you? Love, in its purest form, will always make you a little crazy.”
That night I toss and turn in Colt’s childhood bed. I didn’t go home to him because I needed space to clear my head. And other than a goodnight text, he’s respected my request. It was never about what he did to Jett. I understand why he felt he needed to take care of things the way he did. But the lying, especially from someone who is always set on needing the truth, is what hurts the most.
But listening to Leann talk about how love makes people do crazy things, I think I’m starting to understand. It wasn’t that he was trying to keep things from me. He was just trying to keep me safe. Not from the situation, but from the spiral I would go down. He was protecting me from myself.
Once I’m finally able to drift off, my dreams are filled with all things I’ve grown to love. Tobacco scents and whiskey eyes.
49
I’m a lost cause. I don’t know why I ever thought keeping my distance from Colt was going to solve anything. Or that I’d have the strength to do it. As much as I want to stand on my own, there is a magnetic pull that I can’t fight anymore, and I’m ready to stop fighting against whatever is happening.
Colt has never asked more of me than I’ve been willing to give or be comfortable with. He’s been a steady pillar of support anytime I’ve needed it. It’s not fair to punish him over my past trauma. And honestly, this is the first step to taking control of my own decisions. I’m tired of being anxious about what is around every corner, every possible outcome. Today, Libby Clark is claiming what is hers. Starting with her man.
Pulling up to the construction site is a little nerve-wracking. So much is happening and there are people everywhere. I had to bribe Tyson to let me know where Colt was working today. Not that he doesn’t equally want me to be here, but just because it’s Tyson. Anytime he can get something, he’s going to take it. Lord help whoever he marries — if he marries at all.
I step out of my car and look around. There are loud noises coming from every direction. Every man is walking with a purpose or leaned over, looking at something. But Colt is nowhere in sight, so it looks like I’m going inside this… well, it looks like someone’s absolutely beautiful house. But I’m on a mission and cannot be stopped.
A giant of a man steps in front of me as I step onto the concrete slab. “Ma’am, you can’t be here.”
“Right. I understand, but I’m actually looking for someone.” He studies me like I’m a madwoman. Hold steady, Libby.
“Who is it you’re looking for?”
“Colt Gibson,” I say, and his demeanor completely changes.
“You’re the Mrs.?” Why is that so shocking? Have women shown up here before? Regret starts to creep in before I am graced with the site I’ve come accustomed to.
