Liam was the builder. Tanned skin, calloused hands, sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he leaned against a half-finished wall in one photo. His company, McIntyre Builders, had three active sites. “We build what we wish to last,” his bio read. Vincent stared. A son with roots, building homes for others.
Liam’s feed was filled with his crew, early morning coffees, dusty boots, and thank-you notes from clients. In one video, he gifted a free ramp to a disabled veteran. He looked kind. Strong. Reliable. The kind of man Vincent never learned to be. Vincent flagged him: potential. Heart type.