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“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It tells me everything I need to know.”

I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

Dad nodded.

“That’s what I thought.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is asking me to bless a marriage built on eight weeks of intense feelings.”

I felt tears beginning to sting my eyes.

“You’re acting like I am some dumb little girl.”

“I think you’re in love with the idea of him. With the rush of it all.”

The words hurt. They sounded so certain. Like everything I felt could be dismissed as a childish fantasy.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, Samantha. I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

I stood abruptly.

“Samantha.”

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“Sit down.”

The command hit me like I was fifteen again.

“No.”

“We aren’t finished talking.”

“I am.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Then hear this before you walk away. If Richard asks for my blessing, he will not get it.”

The whole restaurant seemed to go quiet around us.

I stared at him.

“Why?”

“Because a father is supposed to tell his daughter when she is about to make a mistake.”

My throat burned. His gaze never wavered. The tears spilled over.

I grabbed my purse with shaking hands.