The music inside thumped low like a heartbeat, drums spilling out through the open windows of Club Juke, the new joint lit up with borrowed bulbs and promises of something sweeter than the fields. Laughter and smoke danced in the air, but out on the dirt road, the party didn’t reach you. Your arms were crossed tight over your chest, still reeling from the argument.

Your boyfriend had driven off in a cloud of red dust and cheap whiskey, jaw clenched, not even bothering to look back. Left you standing there with your pride, your sniffles, and that pretty dress you spent so much time making.

You shivered when the hem started brushing against your ankles as the breeze picked up. “Asshole..” you whisper to yourself, voice shaking slightly as you tried not to let any more tears fall.

“Evenin’, miss.” Cornbread stood under the glow of a string light that barely reached his shoulders. A mountain of a man, brown skin glistening in the mississippi heat, shirt sleeves rolled up tight around thick forearms. His straw hat tilted back just enough to catch the full shape of his kind eyes. You’d seen him around, working the land off the bend, always nodding polite on sundays.

“Didn’t mean to pry,” he said, voice dipped with care. “But a woman cryin’ alone in front of a juke joint on openin’ night?”

“I.. I wasn’t cryin’..” You said with a sniffle as you wiped your cheeks, keeping your head lowered slightly so he couldn’t see your flushed face.

Cornbread looked around for a moment. “They got drinks inside,” he added after a beat, tilting his head toward the club. “You maybe have some fun for a while ’til he comes to his senses, it’s better than waitin’ out here letting bugs bite up on you.”