“I Told Her to Go Dance With Another Man — Her Comeback Left Me Standing There Like an Idiot”

My name is Jack Callaway. I’m 32, I run forty acres outside a town in Tennessee you’ve never heard of, and three months ago I almost lost the best thing in my life because of one stupid joke at a dance.

Let me back up.

I live alone. Have since my dad died. Old farmhouse, leaky roof, a herd of cattle that respect me about as much as a Roomba respects a cat. My days are fences, water lines, and silence. I’d made peace with the silence. Or I told myself I had.

Then there’s May Whitfield.