“It’s the thought that counts,” he drawls, making me laugh as I step outside, but my laughter quickly dies off when everyone turns to look in our direction, including Matthew and the woman he has his arm wrapped around. She’s very pretty and very young—much younger than me. Even though at thirty-two, I wouldn’t consider myself old by any means. I know I told my mom that I’m glad he brought a date, but I honestly wasn’t sure how I would feel when I actually saw him with someone else. But as I take the two of them in, there is no jealousy… or any emotion, really.

“There’s my girl.” My dad appears with a smile on his face, cutting off my view of Matthew.

Where most people only see the politician that my father is, I see the guy who taught me how to ride a bike and the one who showed up to every single dance recital I had. He’s the man who used to tuck me into bed each night and read to me in funny voices, and the person who would make me hot cocoa or a bowl of ice cream when I had a bad day. The one man who had the power to make things better just by being there.

“Hey, Daddy.” I fall into his embrace, and his arms wrap around me tightly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” He pulls back to look me in the eye.

“Yes.”

“All right,” he says softly, his eyes scanning my face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I roll my eyes, and he smiles before looking at the man at my side.

“Dayton.” He holds out his hand after he lets me go. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“We ran into each other inside.”

“I hope you’re not corrupting her.”

“Not yet,” Dayton replies, and Dad studies him for a long moment before he shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I’m more inclined to worry about my Franny corrupting you, Calloway.”

“Who is Francisca corrupting?” Matthew asks, and my spine straightens while Dad’s smile slides away and his jaw goes hard.

His reaction to Matthew isn’t a surprise. Where my mother has been dead set on the idea of Matthew and me getting back together, my dad told me the minute I brought up asking for a divorce that if I wasn’t happy, I shouldn’t waste my time and I should never look back.

Then again, when Matthew and I got together, he wasn’t happy about it. He thought I could do better from the get-go, and each and every time we broke up and got back together, he’d pray—out loud for everyone to hear—that the breakup would stick.