Work Text:
There are some things I'm very careful not to notice. Like the fact that Colorado spends most of his nights "watching the jail" with Stumpy. But they have become my friends, and I don't want to hurt them. So I'm very careful not to pay any attention to exactly how close the two of them are. It's not that hard, really. My first marriage taught me how to ignore little details. I could overlook the nights my husband came home broke because of the nights he came home richer than we'd dreamed. I learned to ignore how tired I was of moving because he always picked the most beautiful hotels. Knowing how to ignore the less pleasant things in order to preserve the good things I have is useful now that I have Chance, too.
Chance and Dude are like an old married couple. Chance doesn't have to say a word; Dude knows where he'll be, what he's doing, and what he needs Dude to do. They can talk for hours, or sit together in comfortable silence. Oh, they fight, of course, but even their fights are worn smooth, each knowing how far to push and how long to let tempers cool. Chance and I are the opposite: we fight over nothing and anything, sometimes we don't even know why we're fighting. And no matter that Chance and I are all but married; there are some parts of his life I can't share that Dude does. And as much as I sometimes want to demand that Chance choose between me and Dude, I never do. Because Chance has never demanded that I stop gambling, or tending bar at Carlos' hotel, or a thousand other things that any other man might forbid. Even my first husband never gave me as much freedom, preferring me well dressed and beautiful, hanging on his arm like a lucky charm. Why should I make a fuss about an hour here, a kiss there, when Chance has given me the freedom to be myself? So I make sure not to notice things about his friendship with Dude. After all, I know I'd never find a second Chance.