I angle my shoulders so I’m facing her more fully. I want to reach out and take her hand, but she’s got her fingers clasped in her lap, and she’s not offering me any skin space. I don’t want to come across as grabby, so I sit tight.
“You’re not stupid.”
She lets out a mirthless laugh. “I am, though. Because I let myself get caught up in thinking this was real. Or at least leading to something real,” she amends.
“I—wait. What do you mean?”
“Your dad told me what you said.”
I sit back in my seat, and my brain takes off, trying to figure out what she’s talking about or what my father managed to say to pit Noli against me.
“Can you give me some context? I’m sure I can explain if—”
“Did you call me a means to an end?” she asks.
I reel back, and then it hits me. My dad told her about our conversation at the gun range, the morning of the debate. “I did,” I say slowly. “But it’s not what you think.”
She looks over at me, and her eyes are glassy.
My chest tightens with regret. I never want to cause Noli pain, even if unintentionally. I should have stood up to my dad. I feel sick. “Can I please explain?”
She bites her lip and looks away, but she nods.
“My dad was riding me pretty good, telling me I better not let our arrangement sidetrack me from what’s at stake with the election and all. He said some really misogynistic things, and there’s no reasoning with him when he’s like that.”
She pulls in a deep breath. “Someday, you’re going to have to try,” she whispers.
“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry. I just…I told him what he wanted to hear to get him off my back. I said that he had nothing to worry about. That you weren’t going to cause me to lose my focus. That you were a means to an end. But I didn’t mean a single word. You have to trust me.”
I settle my hand on top of hers, willing her to believe me and trying to keep myself from putting the key in the ignition and driving to the restaurant where my parents are waiting so I can use these same hands to strangle my dad. Where does he get off? Why would he even think he needed to tell Noli that?
I grind my teeth. It’s another prong of his manipulation.
She pulls in another breath. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I believe you.”
I release the air from my lungs. “You do. For real?”
She nods, looking at me, though her chin remains tipped down. “You really meant what you said before the ceremony, about wanting to pursue something with me”—she bites her lip—“even though I’m a rollercoaster?”
“A rollercoaster?” I sit up straighter. “Why would you say that?”
She releases a small scoff. “‘Cause it’s the truth. I’m up and down. Hot and cold. Volatile. I’m a mess, Collin.” She shakes her head slightly. “You’ve had a front-row seat to it.”
I use my finger to tip her chin up. “We’re all sorta messy, aren’t we? But through all the ups and downs, I’d go through this whole crazy ride with you again and again.”
She looks at me fully, her blue eyes glistening. “Thank you,” she whispers but then looks down again. “Your dad did have a point, though. I don’t want to derail your focus from the campaign or your job.”
“Quite frankly, I don’t care as much about the campaign or my job asI care about you.”
“But you’d be an incredible county sheriff. I want you to have that chance.” There’s an earnest undercurrent to her words. I want to lie down in it.
“Marrying you is going a long way in helping me with that, according to my data guy. But like I said, that’s not my top priority. I know my dad set this whole thing in motion, but I’d like for him to have as little to do with our relationship as possible from here on out.”
“Co-sign,” Noli nods.
