A Weary Soul

JD rose from the porch chair, tension rippling through him as his gaze locked on the intruder. The man was wiry, dressed in a tattered plaid shirt, and his stagger revealed just how much whiskey he'd consumed.

"Who the hell are you?" JD called out, his voice sharp and steady.

The man paused, glassy eyes narrowing. "Who am I?" he sneered, his words slurred. "Who the f*** are you? Her new f*cktoy?" He laughed bitterly. "Ain't none of your business!"

JD stepped forward, the porch creaking under his weight. "You're on her property. You're drunk and loud. I suggest you leave before this goes south."

"Suggest…" The man swayed, caught between his false bravado and JD's unyielding glare. He jabbed the whiskey bottle toward the house. "Jo owes me! Jo!" he bellowed, his voice slicing through the quiet night. "Get out here, you b*tch!"

JD clenched his fists, heat rushing to his face. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't here for anything good. From inside, JD heard faint movement, the sound of Joanne approaching. She must have heard the shouting, but JD's instincts screamed to keep her inside.

The door creaked open, and Joanne stepped out, her expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "What the hell are you doing here, Sam?" she demanded, her voice razor-sharp.

Sam smirked, swaying as he leered at her. "Finally, Jo! Took you long enough. Thought your new boy toy here was gonna play knight in shining armor all night."

Joanne crossed her arms, her glare unwavering. "You're drunk. Go home, Sam."

"Home?" He let out a bitter laugh, waving the bottle. "Oh, I would if I had one. Maybe you should've thought about that before throwing me out like trash!"

JD glanced at Joanne. She stood firm, but he caught the flicker of embarrassment she tried to hide. She looked like someone who'd dealt with this before, someone who knew how to handle herself. JD hesitated, unsure if she needed help or space.

He stepped inside but lingered near the stairs, listening. From the crack in the door, he saw Joanne pull a wad of cash from her pocket—too much cash for someone like Sam. His eyes widened as the drunk kissed the money with exaggerated reverence before staggering away.

JD's gut churned. Why would she give him that much money? Who is he?

Sam paused at the edge of the porch, then spun around and slapped the door with a loud crack. "You're here because of us! Don't forget that, Jo!" he snarled.

Joanne opened the door just enough to glare at him, her breath steady but her shoulders tense. "Go. Now."

Sam stumbled backward, muttering curses as he vanished into the night. Joanne slammed the door and leaned against it, her breaths shallow and uneven. For the first time, her composed exterior faltered, revealing the toll Sam had taken on her.

Fluffy cowered behind the door, his tail tucked tightly between his legs. JD's fists clenched at the sight. This man—Sam—was no mere drunken nuisance. He was a threat.

JD hesitated, tempted to ask questions about the tense encounter but decided against it. It was likely her ex, and meddling in other people's affairs rarely ended well.

As he ascended the stairs, Joanne sighed in relief, realizing JD wasn't there to witness her unraveling. She knelt beside Fluffy, gently stroking his fur. "He's gone… The bad man is gone," she murmured softly, trying to soothe them both. Fluffy whimpered, curling into her touch. Memories of Sam's drunken rage and the night he nearly harmed Fluffy flooded her mind; that had been the breaking point.

Joanne rose, poured herself a glass of whiskey, and retreated to the dining table for her nightly ritual of reflection. The day had started well—until Sam showed up. Fluffy curled up at her feet, finally relaxing.

"I'm tired, Fluffy, so darn exhausted," she whispered as she downed the whiskey, the burn reminiscent of familiar comfort. She staggered toward the stairs.

Meanwhile, JD, hidden at the top, turned away before she could see him. He couldn't shake the image of Joanne—not the fiery woman he had met at the barn, not the cheery woman he interacted with at dinner, but a hurt, weary soul burdened by unseen scars.

As he lay in bed, he thought about how everyone had their battles. Though he felt sympathy for Joanne and her pain, he quickly dismissed it. Who was he to pity anyone? At least she had stability—she had money.

**Morning**

The smell of sweet pancakes pulled JD from sleep. He rushed downstairs to find Joanne by the stove, flipping pancakes like a morning sun. "Morning," she greeted him with a smile, handing him a plate piled high with syrup-drizzled pancakes and coffee.

"Ah, you're spoiling me," he said, settling into his seat.

"Enjoy it while it lasts. I might starve you one day," she teased, but her mood shifted when he mentioned his plans for the day.

"I've got an interview at Shamrock Logistics," JD announced over breakfast, his fork poised above the towering stack of pancakes Joanne had made.

At that, Joanne's easy smile froze. "Did you say Shamrock Logistics?" she asked, her tone sharpening.

"Uh, yeah. Is something wrong?" he asked, startled by the sudden change in her demeanor.

"No… nothing's wrong," Joanne replied, shaking her head with a small smile. Her words felt steady, but her mind raced with uncertainty. Should she tell him the truth—that she was the owner of Shamrock Logistics? The thought lingered, heavy and awkward, as she considered the implications. Having him as both a paying guest and an employee of her company could blur lines she wasn't sure she wanted to cross.

But she dismissed the idea with a quick shake of her head. Why overthink it? "You look educated—it won't be hard for you to get the job," she added, her voice a touch brighter to mask the storm of questions swirling inside her.

If he was qualified, why complicate things with unnecessary formalities?

JD managed an awkward smile. Sure, he was Yale-educated, but without his certificates, his degree felt like a ghost of its former glory. "You think so?"

"For sure," Joanne replied, her smile returning, but her eyes carried a flicker of something he couldn't quite place.

"Can I ask you a favor?" JD asked after a pause, his voice carrying a hesitant vulnerability.