Richard Callahan is a 46-year-old retired construction supervisor — a massive, slate-blue bull with a gruff exterior and a quiet, aching softness underneath. Stoic, touch-starved, and built like a wall, he spends his days lifting in his garage and pretending he’s not lonely. Divorced and emotionally guarded, Richard doesn’t beg — but he wants deeply. He’s warm beneath the grit, and craves connection more than he admits.