“Yeah,” I say quickly, forcing a bright smile. “I’m just so thrilled for them.” And I am.
Lot doesn’t give me one of her snarky comebacks or off-color jokes. She knows me well enough to know that’s not the vibe. I try not to let my mood dip into the blues-zone, but it gets harder to deny it as other couples take to the dance floor. Dice comes to get his wife. Lot gives me an apologetic wince.
I wave it off. “Go dance with your man. I’m good.”
Seeing Lot with Dice, and Lex with Chaz, held in each other’s arms, I slip away from the edge of the tent, needing a breather. My toes sink into the cool sand, my satin dress brushes against my calves as I walk toward the water. The noise of the reception fades in the distance. The breeze is cold on my bare shoulders as I stand at the shoreline, sipping champagne and reflecting. I imagine DK here with me, his hand on the small of my back, his solid chest beneath my cheek, holding me in his arms—the place that always makes me feel well-loved and safe.
“Hey, Pumpkin?”
I turn to see my dad shrugging out of his blazer one-handed while holding a tumbler of whiskey in the other. He drapes the jacket over my shoulders.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“Just thinking.”
He nudges my shoulder with his. “Talk to your old man.”
I stare down at the bubbles rising in my champagne glass, the shield around the emotions I’ve been feeling all week cracking.
“It’s Dakarai.” The confession leaves me on a long breath. I lift my gaze toward the water stretching beyond the marina. “I refused to make a choice between him and my campaign. I wanted both. Maybe that was naive.” I laugh softly, though there’s no humor in it. “I love him, Dad. And I love Bayside.”
He doesn’t interrupt. He just listens, his expression shifting into something thoughtful.
“I stood up there on the boardwalk and went public about the photos.” The words catch in my throat. “I told the voters I wasn’t going to hide. I wasn’t ashamed. That I run a transparent campaign.” My voice drops. “But I’m not. Not completely. I’m still keeping the most important person in my life hidden behind a phone screen and stolen moments because I’m afraid thatloving him out loud will hurt my campaign and his career.” That admission scrapes me raw. “It doesn’t feel honest. Not to the voters. And not to us.”
For a moment, only the breeze skimming off the water answers. Then my dad swirls the whiskey in his glass and says, “Remember when you were ten and decided you were going to save those piping plovers?”
I manage a half-smile. “Yes. Mrs. Henderson reminded me of it when I was canvassing in her neighborhood. I hadn’t thought about that in years.”
“You were so determined to protect them.”
The memory plays in short flashes as my dad recounts it.
“The nesting area had been scheduled for removal to make room for additional beach parking. It had been decided. Permits approved. But they hadn’t counted on one little strong-minded girl. You made flyers with markers and stickers. You went door to door collecting signatures. You wrote letters. There was absolutely no stopping you.”
“I was much.”
“No. You weren’t. You were a force, even then, Ray. You made it happen. You saved those nests, but that’s not the story.” He looks at me. “I wanted to prepare you, just in case. I asked you if you would still fight this fight if you knew the nests would be moved anyway. Do you remember what you said?”
“Yeah. I said I’d still do it.”
He nods. “Because even though the outcome you wanted wasn’t guaranteed, you decided that doing something still mattered.”
My dad drains his whiskey. “That’s all I got for you, Pumpkin.”
“No advice?”
“You don’t need it,” he says. “Only you and Dakarai know what this costs and what matters. I have faith in you both to figure it out.”
He kisses my cheek. “Don’t stay out here too long.”
Then he leaves me alone with the music drifting from the tent.
Hollis is out of custody and facing charges. There’s a no-contact order that stops him from getting anywhere near me. He hasn’t made a public statement—probably lawyered up—and I haven’t mentioned him again since his arrest. The headlines have slowly died down, reporters are no longer staked outside my office, and my campaign has settled into some semblance of normalcy.
This is not the time to disrupt it with another headline. Especially this one.
