I didn't know it at the time, but South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott, who made the surprise decision to exit the 2024 presidential race on Sunday, held his last campaign stop at a swanky dinner with the Iowa Real Estate Developers Association in Des Moines on Thursday.
Steak and salmon were on each guest's plate and Scott, sitting across from his nephew, appeared tired -- or at the very least less animated.
Perhaps he was worn out from chasing a dream that it had increasingly become clear was not within reach by next year. Optimism, a message the Republican hopeful had touted since the start of his campaign back in May, seemed to have its limits.
Even his aides acknowledged the previous night's events had worn him down.
Scott had just come from the third GOP presidential debate, in Miami. Having barely qualified for the event, he nonetheless had the most speaking time on stage.
His faltering campaign needed a splash, but instead he made another ripple: According to a 538/Washington Post/Ipsos poll of likely Republican primary voters after the debate, he got the lowest share of people saying he did the best.
MORE: 'Nice doesn't mean that you're not strong': On the trail as Tim Scott tries to woo votersMost of the attention he got was over the revelation of his girlfriend, Mindy Noce, who stepped on stage (and in front of the cameras) to share a brief moment with him when the debate ended.
Scott resisted the interest in his personal life, previously saying he didn't want to drag someone on the trail unless they were going to marry. But a campaign official told ABC News that Noce's attendance -- the two have been dating for about a year -- was a part of Scott's commitment to being his authentic self.
On Thursday, in Des Moines, he pitched himself one last time as the best choice to be the next president of the United States.
He spoke about his humble beginnings and how it led to him being a public servant. Like he so often does, he occasionally jumped up from his chair to "preach." But unlike other engagements, he wasn't met with the same level of enthusiasm. At the conclusion, only four people asked him questions, one of them being who his favorite founding father was, with the host having to goad the audience into participating with Scott.
"Other questions? No more questions? There's a presidential candidate right here," he said.
Scott's usual exuberance, which so often spread to his audience, was completely missing. Some voters seemed puzzled, even frustrated, about the road ahead.
"I do not recognize the Republican Party," a lifelong conservative Bill Kimberley said to Scott at the dinner. "The majority of this country is in the middle and we want to work together ... it's time that the Republican Party got their soul back."
A majority of GOP voters don't look like they share Kimberly's view: Former President Donald Trump retains a tight hold on the party's base. His nearest competitor is a full 42 points behind him in national polls, according to 538's average.
As of Sunday, when he dropped out, Scott trailed all but two of them.
In hindsight, Scott's campaign began winding down over the weekend after the debate.
I woke up Friday morning to begin a two-hour drive to Carroll, Iowa, for a meet-and-greet at yet another Pizza Ranch, a popular Midwest chain that's become a common retail stop for Republican campaigns in the key early voting state. I was about 20 minutes away before I got a text from Scott's team informing me that he had the flu and would be canceling all five of his remaining events that weekend.
After recuperating in Charleston, South Carolina, "he looks forward to being back in the Hawkeye State next week," the campaign told me.
Too close to turn around, I decided to continue my drive to Pizza Ranch where I was greeted by a friendly Iowa staffer who was disappointed that Scott's events were scrapped -- having planned some of them himself -- but excited for what was to come.
The staffer told me that he was able to finally stop working remotely and see his coworkers face to face. The Scott campaign had just opened a new office in West Des Moines as part of their plan to go "all in" for the caucus in January after pulling their TV ads and consolidating their resources from South Carolina and New Hampshire.
On Sunday, after a quiet weekend at home, Scott appeared on his friend Trey Gowdy's Fox News show to announce that he wouldn't be doing any of that after all.
"When I go back to Iowa, it will not be as a presidential candidate. I am suspending my campaign," he said. "I think I was called to run. I was not called to win."
Not only was Gowdy visibly shocked by the revelation -- at one point during the interview he said, "I'm trying to process this information" -- so were his staff.
Multiple aides confirmed to ABC News that they had no idea what was coming. Sources familiar with the campaign said that Scott and his campaign manager, Jennifer DeCasper, held an emotional, roughly five-minute all-hands call on Sunday in which they thanked staff for their dedication and hard work.
The brevity of the call left many questions, with the most pressing -- for the campaign workers -- being the fate of the eager field staff in New Hampshire, Iowa and South Carolina, all hoping to keep their paychecks for the upcoming holiday season.
A senior campaign official said that "they'll make sure folks are taken care of" with packages and new jobs.
But a staffer who spoke on the condition of anonymity in order to be candid expressed concern and frustration at the apparent lack of planning. This person said they have "no hard feelings" for the senator and called his decision to drop out a good thing for him in the long run. But they also said they were not aware of any plan for what is to become of the larger campaign team.
Scott has sought to reassure those who supported him: According to one source, he spoke at his Charleston campaign headquarters for more than an hour on Monday, taking photos and tossing around footballs with aides. He assured them that they would be taken care of.
Scott entered the 2024 race with widespread goodwill in his party, a large financial edge and a distinctive backstory -- and he ran into the same issue faced by Trump's other primary rivals: According to the polls, Republican voters prefer Trump to everyone else.
What started off as a campaign "rooted in optimism" turned into a sputtering albeit somewhat friendly campaign.
Even as Scott changed up his style in the final weeks, embracing attacks on other candidates, one thing everyone around him seemed able to agree on was just how "nice" the senator could be -- and it wasn't just voters who had a fondness for him.
Once Scott left the race, his opponents were quick to compliment him.
Former New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie lauded his "integrity and honesty," fellow South Carolinian Nikki Haley said he was a "good man," Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis praised his "bold ideas" and Vivek Ramaswamy called him a "good dude."
Former Vice President Mike Pence, who also recently dropped out and like Scott is already fielding entreaties from DeSantis' team about consolidating against Trump, sources said, thanked Scott for his "principled leadership."
Over the 25 weeks I spent following Scott as ABC News' "embedded" reporter on his campaign, I, too, noticed how nice he was on the trail.
But Scott's "happy warrior" persona often worked against him: Voters were quick to ask if he was actually too nice to get the job done.
He has not indicated who he will endorse in the Republican primary, telling donors in a statement: "I am going to remain committed to making sure that this country chooses the right person by enjoying the journey of just helping people." He indicated that he might run again at "another opportunity."
His last campaign stop, in Iowa on Thursday, was the saddest one I'd seen -- empty of the energy and jokes that I was used to. It was the only time I saw Scott with a crowd that wasn't excited for him.
Maybe he felt it, too.