“Really?” He chuckled. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“About a microbrewery?”

“Yep. I also like wine, but the different types are pretty much established. With microbrews, it’s open to the imagination.”

“Exactly!” she replied with more enthusiasm than she had intended, which brought warmth to her cheeks. “Sorry. It’s a passion I buried a long time ago, and tasting this Scotch ale has resurrected it.”

His smile faded. “A passion for something should never be buried. What happened?”

“I got married.” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out wobbly and faint. “Derek liked wine and expensive liqueurs, and he acted as if beers were an affront to his refined taste buds.”

“Hmm. Sometimes there’s no accounting for people’s tastes, I guess. Some people love beer. Others detest it. But he must have been something of a prick to have forced his preferences on you.”

Julie almost choked on the liquid chocolate and coffee flavor. “Yep, a real prick.”

He laughed and reclined his chair another notch. “I’m settling in for this story. I’ve wanted to ask you about your marriage, but I always held back. I can tell by the way you behave that he did a real number on you. Speaking from experience, I know how awful a truly bad marriage can be, and it takes time before a person can talk about it. I didn’t want to push then, and I don’t now, if you still feel uncomfortable about sharing.”

“I thought I loved him.” Her voice came out squeaky, so she swallowed hard before she went on. “I’d just finished college and gotten a job. Accounting and bookkeeping, so I sat at a desk all day. I immediately realized I needed a gym membership, and that was how I met Derek. He was one of those hunky, handsome trainers at the facility. He asked me out, I accepted, and I went a little crazy, I think. It was all so exciting and seemed so wonderful.”

He smiled and took a sip of his blond ale. “Unfortunately, those wonderful feelings don’t last. Unless, of course, you find true love. I’m not saying it doesn’t exist. I’ve known people who found that with each other, but I think a large percentage of people stumble into what they believe is the real deal, only to wonder a year or so later what on earth they were thinking.”

“Exactly,” Julie agreed. “Only it took me longer than that. In retrospect, I wonder if I wasn’t more enamored with the idea of love—the perfect marriage, a house with a picket fence in a rural area, two children, and a minivan. You know? But the truth was much more grim. Derek used me, as embarrassing as it is now for me to admit. I was an ornament in his life to conceal the truth about his sexual preferences. He never wanted his parents and siblings to know he’s gay. I should have realized all wasn’t right in our relationship, but it was my first go-around with marriage, and I thought maybe all husbands grew less amorous right off the bat. Derek did his husbandly duty once a week at first, then every two weeks, and I wasn’t really suspicious when he backed off to once a month. Disappointed, yes. I was trying to get pregnant, and he wasn’t giving me much opportunity. But he had flair when he made love to me that camouflaged his lack of desire. Once a month, he created a blissfully romantic setting, making a candlelight dinner, putting love songs on the stereo, telling me how wonderful I was. I really believed everything was good between us until I came home early one afternoon and caught him in bed with his true love, another male bodybuilder.”