EXCLUSIVE CONTENT! The Backstory of How Jack and Hannah Met.

Just four years earlier, Louis and Dottie Garrett had driven from Washington, D.C. to Baltimore to watch their son defend his light heavyweight title for the third time. Weigh-ins were scheduled for Friday afternoon, with the fights set for the following night. Jack’s bout would headline the card.

That afternoon, Louis and Dottie met Jack in his dressing room, then walked with him into the main exposition hall. When the announcer called Jack Garrett’s name, the crowd erupted. He was a perennial favorite, and the applause rolled through the hall like thunder.

Ripped and disciplined, Jack stepped onto the scale and made weight with ease—coming in a couple of pounds under the 205-pound limit. His off-season weight hovered around 215, but years of wrestling—high school through college—had taught him respect for the process. He never flirted with missing weight. If he was paid to train, cut, and fight, he believed the least he could do was honor the contract.

Louis and Dottie watched with unmistakable pride.

After the customary stare-down photo op, Jack headed back to the locker room with his team while his parents waited outside. The mood inside was relaxed—almost celebratory. His coach and corner men were pleased and already confident about the next night.

“So,” one of them said, grinning, “what five-star joint are you taking us to tonight, champ?”

As Jack slipped on his shoes and pulled a sport coat from his locker, the room fell briefly silent—then erupted.

Whistles. Catcalls. Animal noises.

They weren’t used to seeing him in anything other than shorts or sweats.

“Alright, alright—settle down,” Jack said, waving them off. “As much as I enjoy spending every waking second with you animals, you’re on your own tonight.”

The taunts only intensified. Towels and rolls of gauze flew through the air.

“But listen up! Listen up!” Jack shouted.

The noise faded just long enough for him to continue.

“I know you’re all cheap bastards, so I’m still buying your dinner.”

One of the corner men jumped to his feet. “Wait—you’re paying, and we don’t have to listen to that Texas drawl? I’m in.”

The locker room exploded with laughter.

Jack shook his head, handed his trainer a thick wad of cash, and stepped into the hallway to meet his parents.

His father clapped him on the shoulder. “So, what’s next on the agenda?”

Jack rubbed his hands together, grinning at both of them. “Aldo’s. Little Italy. Pasta. I’m starving.”

Seven minutes later, they were seated in a quiet back corner of Aldo’s Ristorante Italiano, tucked into Baltimore’s Little Italy. Jack loved the old-world Palazzo feel, the southern Italian food, and—just as important—the privacy. He knew the manager, Tony, well enough to avoid a scene.

Tonight, privacy mattered.

The restaurant had just opened, the dinner rush was still an hour away. After posing for a few photos with the staff, Jack and his parents settled in, talking about D.C., the upcoming fight, and home in Texas. Jack, usually relaxed, seemed restless.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” his father asked.

“Nah,” Jack said, flashing a quick grin. “Just the usual.”

“You seem distracted,” Dottie said gently.

“I just—”

Tony noticed a woman approaching the table and immediately moved to intercept her, assuming she was another fan.

“Excuse me, miss—may I help you?”

Jack stood abruptly. “It’s okay, Tony.”

The woman reached the table, and Jack took her hand and kissed her square on the mouth.

Louis and Dottie exchanged a look—equal parts confusion and surprise.

“Mom, Dad,” Jack said, turning back to them, “this is Hannah Callahan.”

Hannah was athletic and composed, wearing a fitted black ribbed dress. She brushed her dark hair behind her ears, calm and confident. Jack searched her eyes for nerves. He found none.

Louis stood immediately. “Well, hello, my dear. I’m Louis—and this is my wife, Dottie.”

Hannah shook both of their hands firmly. “Very nice to meet you.”

Dottie noticed the handshake—and nodded approvingly.

Jack pulled out Hannah’s chair. The waiter appeared.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned,” Hannah said. “Woodford Reserve. Double Oaked.”

Louis tilted his head, impressed, and tapped his empty glass for another bourbon.

Dottie studied her carefully. “So, Hannah—how long have you known our son?”

“Well, Mrs. Garrett—”

“Please, call me Dottie.”

“Well…Dottie. Jack and I met in college.”

“Oh?”

“Through mutual friends.”

“Did you date back then? All Jack ever talked about was wrestling.”

“No, ma’am. Just friends.”

Jack jumped in quickly. “Didn’t have much time. Wrestling. Studying.”

Hannah laughed. “That’s not what I heard.”

Jack blushed and took a long drink of water.

Dottie smiled despite herself. “Where are you from, Hannah?”

“Gulf Coast mostly. Mississippi and Alabama.”

Jack and his father exchanged knowing looks—the vetting had begun.

“And your daddy?” Dottie asked.

“He works in natural gas.”

“I see,” Dottie said, sipping her cocktail. “And what did you study?”

“Wildlife habitat conservation and management. My grandfather was a veterinarian. I grew up hunting and fishing—duck hunting near Black Bayou. Being outdoors shaped everything.”

Louis broke into a grin. “Well hell, Jack—this one’s a keeper.”

Hannah raised her glass in a small toast.

Jack explained how they’d reconnected and how Hannah had come to Vegas for one of his fights.

Louis nodded thoughtfully. “We missed that one. Foreign Affairs mess. Trafficking ring—Bulgaria to South Africa.”

Hannah blinked. “That’s…intense.”

“There’s a lot of evil in this world,” Louis said quietly. “And most of it hides behind respectability.”

He paused, then smiled. “Sorry. I sound like a politician.”

They laughed.

Jack took a breath. “Mom. Dad. Hannah and I have been together for a while. I look at your marriage—and I want that. So, I asked Hannah to marry me.”

Silence.

Then Jack added, “Plus, we won’t have to hire a wildlife manager if we ever buy a ranch.”

Louis laughed first. “About damn time.”

He stood and hugged Hannah. “Welcome to the family.”

Dottie followed. “Now he’s your problem.”

Hannah laughed, relieved.

As Jack pulled her into an embrace, Hannah whispered, “By the way—about not paying me?”

Jack frowned. “What?”

“I expect horses and babies.”

Jack laughed, lifting her off the floor in a bear hug as the future—suddenly very real—wrapped itself around them both.