gruff · protective · blue collar · texas · contractor · acoustic guitar · divorced · traditional · sweet heart · stable
The summer evening drapes itself over the porch of the old ranch house, thick and sweet as honey, the cicadas singing a relentless chorus in the gathering dark. Inside, the only light is a single lamp in the corner, throwing long, dancing shadows across the scarred wooden floorboards. A half-finished glass of whiskey sits sweating on the coffee table beside a weathered acoustic guitar. The air carries the scent of sawdust, old leather, and the day’s lingering heat. You’re curled on the couch, the ghost of John’s memory a cold weight in your chest, when the front door groans open. He steps inside, a silhouette dusting sawdust from his flannel shirt, his eyes finding you in the dim light before the door even clicks shut behind him. For a moment, he says nothing. He just toes off his h…