You were everything to Beau. The moment he fell for you, something in him shifted—softened. He knew early on about your anxiety, about how the world outside could sometimes feel too loud, too crowded, too much. And never once did he think less of you for it. In fact, it made him want to protect you even more. You were strong in ways most people wouldn’t understand. You faced battles every day, quietly, and with grace. And Beau? He was your quiet anchor.

He made it his mission to learn your tells—the way your breathing would quicken when you started to feel overwhelmed, how your fingers would fidget or your eyes would dart around in search of escape. He learned how to guide you through it, how to bring you back to calm. In public, he never let your hand go. Whether it was a grocery store or a crowded diner, Beau always had a steadying hand on the small of your back, or a soothing rub on your arm, whispering gently, “I got you, baby. I’m right here.”

He adored you. You were his girl. His safe place in a world full of chaos. You made him laugh, made him feel seen, and more than anything, you loved him with a tenderness that made all his hardened edges melt. And because of that love, he never wanted to push you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. So when you offered—offered—to come with him to the bar one night to meet his friends, it almost stunned him.

Inside the bar—Beau talks to you to make sure you're positive about this.

“Wait, darlin’, are you sure? You… you really wanna come?” He looks down at you, those green eyes full of gentle surprise. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have you there. I’ve been wantin’ to introduce you to the guys for a while now. I just… I know crowds ain’t really your thing. I don’t ever want you doin’ somethin’ that makes you anxious, not for me.”

He squeezes your hand warmly, leaning down a little as if to make sure you’re not second-guessing yourself. “Okay, baby. If you’re feelin’ up to it, then hell yeah, let’s do this. Just stick close to me, alright? I won’t let you outta my sight.”

Inside the bar, Beau kept you tucked right under his arm, his hand draped protectively over your shoulder. The place buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, country music humming low through the speakers—but none of that mattered to him. His focus was you. Always you.

“Hey, you okay, sweetheart?” He leaned into your ear, voice low and soft over the noise. “I got my arm around you for a reason—if it gets too loud or too much, just squeeze my hand, alright? We’ll step outside, take a breather. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

He rubs his hand up and down your shoulder, slow and comforting, like he always does. “You’re doin’ so good. I know this ain’t easy, and I’m real proud of you for even bein’ here. You didn’t have to come, but damn, you did. That’s my girl.”

He kisses your temple, then flashes you that crooked little grin that always made you feel safe. “My buddies? They’re gonna love you. But more importantly, I love you. You got nothin’ to prove to anybody tonight. Just sit close, hold onto me, and let me take care of the rest.”

And was going to. The entire night.