Things We Never Said: A Hart's Boardwalk Novel

by Samantha Young

* * *

  After the ugly confrontation with Michael, Dad and I tried to eat dinner, but my appetite was gone. I excused myself from the table and gave Dad a kiss on the cheek to reassure him. I hated the contrition in his expression. He was trying to do a good thing, and I wasn’t mad at him.

  Unfortunately, he’d underestimated the full extent of Michael’s anger. I had too. When we’d seen each other for the first time in years last summer, I’d seen only shock and relief in his expression. But I guess me running away again was one too many acts of cowardice for him.

  Was it cowardice? I asked myself as I walked upstairs.

  I guessed it was. I’d never seen it in that light.

  My past was awash with grief and Michael was inadvertently a part of that. Knowing I could never be with him, I’d cut our connection because seeing him every day, continuing our relationship, would have emotionally destroyed me. Distance helped numb my feelings for him. In fact, it had worked so well, it had shocked the hell out of me when I did see him again because the feelings overwhelmed me. They’d never gone away.

  I’d merely put them on ice.

  Michael, like always, didn’t even have to speak to melt that ice. He just had to be in the same room. Breathing. Vital. Alive.

  Electric.

  The piece of me I’d never known had been missing until we met.

  Glancing at the closed door of my old bedroom, I let myself into the guest room and slumped down on the bed.

  Michael’s angry voice filled my head, but soon the ghosts of the past drowned them out …

  Following Dillon into Angie’s Diner, I grumbled, “I don’t want to be here.”

  The evening crowds hadn’t quite arrived, so Dillon managed to grab us a booth at the back. “We could sit at the counter instead of taking up all this room.”

  My little sister rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, if you don’t stop moping and whining and complaining, I’m going to slap you.”

  I made a face. “I’m not that bad.”

  “You are that bad.” She gave me a sympathetic look as we slid into the booth. “Maybe you underestimated how much you cared about Gary. Maybe he’s worth a second chance.”

  Would it be wrong to squirt ketchup all over her nice white T-shirt? Trying not to glower at her, I snipped, “He’s not worth a second chance.”

  The asshole had been cheating on me! I caught him!

  “Well, this moping has to stop. I love you, and I’m sorry he was such a dick, but you are not the first girl to get cheated on.”

  Lowering my gaze so she couldn’t see the fury in my eyes, I had to swallow a few times to stop the acrimony inside me from spilling out. I wasn’t moping because Gary had cheated on me and we’d broken up.

  I was heartbroken.

  Not over Gary.

  Nope.

  Over Michael.

  For a year we’d been friends. Good friends. Better friends than even Gary knew. Michael had been there for me, and we’d talked about everything. And I’d thought that my feelings for him were reciprocated.

  But six weeks ago, days before I broke up with Gary, I’d found out that he had started dating Dillon. They’d been together for ten weeks. Ten weeks! I knew that because Dillon kept walking around on cloud nine saying, “I can’t believe it’s been ten weeks. This is the one, Dahlia. Definitely the one.”

  My little sister.

  The fucker had started dating my little sister.

  I hated him.

  Because I loved him.

  I really hated him.

  I’d avoided his texts and phone calls since splitting up with Gary and was dreading the day he turned up as Dillon’s date to some family event.

  God, what an idiot I’d been. All that guilt I’d felt when I was with Gary because I wanted Michael instead.

  Huh, what a joke.

  “You’re not yourself, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I gave her a weak smile.

  Honestly, I was trying hard not to be angry at Dillon too but I felt like she’d stolen something from me. And this wasn’t like when we borrowed crap like makeup or jewelry that we’d told each other was off limits. This was like she’d punched a hole in my goddamn chest and ripped out a piece of me.

  I didn’t want to resent my sister.

  “Hey, you made it!” Dillon cried happily.

  I jerked in my seat as I followed her gaze.

  Just like that, my heart thudded in my chest as I looked up at Michael standing by the table. What the hell was he doing here?

  Our eyes met as Dillon got out of the booth. She broke our connection by pulling his face down to hers for a kiss, and I looked away.

  Dillon wasn’t to blame. Rationally I knew that. She had no idea how I felt about Michael. Had she? I personally thought we’d been a little obvious about it, but apparently, I was wrong.

  As for Michael, although I’d never said the words out loud, he knew I had feelings for him.

  He goddamn knew.

  The Michael I’d known would never have hurt me like this. I thought that he’d felt the same but if he could date Dillon, if we were interchangeable, then that bastard had never felt about me the way I felt about him. Which meant the months of longing and agonizing over not being able to be with him was a waste of my emotions.

  Dillon released him from her lip-lock and they slid onto the bench opposite me where I was forced to look at them. With Michael, I kind of looked in the direction of his face but refused to meet his gaze.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Screw you!

  “Fine.” I shrugged, staring at the menu. “Are we ordering food or …?”

  “I could eat some fries,” Dillon answered.

  “I, uh … Dahlia …” Michael leaned across the table.

  I ignored him. “Do you want to share chili fries?”

  “Dahlia, look at me.”

  Tension fell over the table, and I was so scared that Dillon would figure everything out.

  “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

  What are you doing? Putting that out there right in front of my sister?

  I scrambled for a reason other than that I was in love with him, and he’d broken my heart by agreeing to date Dillon. Then it hit me. I glared at him. “Did you know?”

  Uneasiness flickered in his expression. “Did I know what?”

  “Did you know Gary was cheating on me?”

  “You know what?” Dillon abruptly slid out of the booth. “I forgot I have a client tomorrow who wants this complicated nail design that I need to practice, so I’m gonna go.” She leaned down to peck Michael on the lips and then scooted out of there before I could scream after her that she was my ride.

  My freaking car was in the garage!

  “I didn’t know,” Michael replied. “Dahlia, of course, I didn’t know.”

  I turned around from where I’d been staring in horror watching my sister flee because she thought she was doing a good thing, giving me and Michael, who she considered just one of my pals, time to iron out our Gary issues.

  Everything I felt for him, all the betrayal, I knew it was on my face when I turned around because he flinched.

  “I couldn’t care less if you knew Gary was screwin’ around on me,” I said, voice lowered. “You know that’s not why I’m ignoring your calls.” I leaned in and hissed, “You know the reason.”

  Rage flooded me as I grabbed my purse and shot out of the booth.

  If I sat there any longer, I might punch him!

  His confusion filled my name as he called out to me.

  Confusion? Seriously!

  I stormed out of the diner, hoping to catch my sister but she was already gone.

  Then a strong hand grabbed my arm, hauling me around and into him. Michael’s heat and strength surrounded me, and I fought against it. “Let me go.”

  “Calm down,” he bit out.

  I lifted my eyes to meet his, all the heartbreak and pain f
looding out of me. And I hated him for that too. “Let me go.”

  His expression fell, and his exhalation sounded painful as he whispered, “Dahlia.”

  “Why her?”

  Michael’s grip on me tightened, and he pulled me closer. “I didn’t … I didn’t know about Gary. I didn’t know or I wouldn’t …”

  Anger flooded me. “Wouldn’t have started dating my sister?” I ripped my arm away from his and pushed him away. “You should never have touched her in the first place!”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he growled, his regret replaced quickly with his own anger. “Wait around and pine for something I couldn’t have?”

  “No! I never asked you to do that, and we both know you never have.” I remembered all too well the girls he’d left parties with when Gary and I were dating. “But Dillon? Why would you do that? Why are you trying to hurt me?”

  His eyes widened, and his features slackened. “Dahlia … I was never … I wouldn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d care that way and she reminds me of you, I guess.”

  Well, fuck if that didn’t hurt even worse. “So, she and I are interchangeable?”

  Michael cut me a look. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I don’t understand this.” I shook my head, angry at him and at the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. How dare he make me cry! I hadn’t even cried when Gary and I broke up! I retreated. “The Michael I knew would never have hurt me like this.”

  “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Michael reached for me, but I turned around and began walking away. There was nothing he could say that could change any of this.

  I heard his footsteps behind me, but I didn’t expect to find myself hauled behind the diner and pushed up against the wall. He loomed over me, his hands braced above my head as his chest rose and fell in shallow, agitated breaths.

  My heart raced.

  “If we’re playing the blame game,” he snapped, “how about you? One, you never made it clear that you and I were even an option. And two, Dillon tells me that you’ve suspected Gary for months and that you’ve been thinking of breaking up with him all that time!”

  “Never made it clear? Seriously! And how does that even equate to what you’ve done?”

  “I didn’t know this would hurt you.”

  “Bullshit!” I yelled in his face.

  “Calm down,” he demanded, pressing his face so close, our noses almost touched. “Dahlin’, calm down.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I pushed under his arm to leave, but he grabbed me by the waist. “Let go of me, Michael.”

  Instead of letting me go, he pressed his forehead to my temple, and I froze.

  Longing so deep and painful overwhelmed me, and fresh tears filled my eyes.

  “I’m an idiot. I’m a selfish idiot,” he whispered. “And I’m so fuckin’ sorry. You’ll never know how sorry.”

  I shook my head. “Not as sorry as me. You should never have touched her.”

  He was silent a second. I should have taken that opportunity to break free of his hold. But it felt like the last time I’d ever feel his arms around me, and a pathetic part of me didn’t want to lose that connection quite yet.

  His breath was warm on my skin. It stuttered, like he was hesitating to say something, and then I knew why. “I haven’t … slept with her.”

  My insides twisted at the very thought. “What do you want me to say to that?”

  “I could … I could end things with her so you and me—”

  I wrenched out of his arms, the spell broken. Backing away from him, I stared up at him in disbelief. “Don’t you get it? You thought it would have been bad me breaking up with Gary to be with you? Can you imagine what this would do to my relationship with Dillon? She’s serious about you, Michael. And she wouldn’t see that she took something from me.” My lips trembled, and I cursed the tears spilling down my cheeks. Tears were useless, and they made me seem weak. “She’ll think that I stole you from her.” I swiped at my tears. “I won’t do that to her.”

  “What about us?”

  “You fucked any chance we might have had.”

  He took a step toward me, and I lifted my hand to stop him.

  “You wouldn’t betray your friend, and I certainly won’t betray my sister.”

  The full realization of what he’d done seemed to hit Michael at that moment, and something akin to grief filled his expression. “Dahlia,” he said, sounding in pain.

  My hatred for him melted. Michael was so together, so mature for his age that sometimes I forgot he was only a few years older than me. He was still a young guy, only human, stumbling through life making mistakes like the rest of us. I’d put him on a pedestal. That was my mistake.

  His mistake just happened to be a big, painful, horrible one that affected me too.

  “I’m sorry, but for the sake of my sanity, we have to be done, Michael. Don’t text, don’t call … just don’t. I’ll pretend whenever you’re around with Dillon that we’re okay, but we have to be done.”

  Twisting the knife in deeper, his eyes shone brightly with emotion. “I didn’t … I hoped, but I always thought it was just me … that what I felt was only coming from me and that I needed to move on. You never said—we never said—”

  “And we never will.” I slumped and stepped out of the alley behind the diner. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  I walked away, proud of the tears I’d kept at bay as I said goodbye.

  Thankfully, Dillon’s car wasn’t at home when I got there, and I snuck into the house before anyone could see what a mess Michael Sullivan had made of me.

  Yanking myself out of that painful memory, I reached for my cell phone where I’d left it charging on the bedside table. I needed to talk with Bailey. She always gave it to me straight, and she’d tell me if I should try to fix the hurt between Michael and me. She knew our whole story.

  She knew all the mistakes made on both sides.

  The constant screw-ups that had kept us apart.

  I knew I could never be with Michael again, have him fill that space in my life and my bed that no man had filled since. So trying to earn his forgiveness was inevitably going to hurt me, and I needed to tap into any selflessness I had to do it.

  It would require me to be brave.

  Ultimately, I knew Bailey would want me to be brave. She’d encourage me to, and I needed that push.

  Because this was going to sting so very, very badly.

  I met my dad’s happy gaze across the room and grinned, giving him my dimple. This was so much better than last night.

  “Did you see, Aunt Dahlia, did you see me rescue that Sprixie?” Leo yelled from two feet away.

  “And that’s Mom, Dad, Leo, Grandpa …” Levi, my five-year-old nephew, pointed at the people in his drawing, “I could add you.”

  “Aunt Dahlia!” Leo cried.

  I grinned at him. “I see.” I did. And I couldn’t believe they were still making Super Mario Bros. games. “You’re awesome at this game.”

  “I know, right.” His cocky grin reminded me so much of Darragh.

  I glanced down at Levi, who was waiting patiently for my assessment of his drawing. It was amazing for a five-year-old. There were no stick people anywhere to be seen. That he might have inherited his artistic skills from me caused a flare of sweet aching in my chest. “Levi McGuire, you are an artist,” I pronounced. “And I’d be honored if you added me.”

  He smiled shyly and took the paper out of my hand. Promptly, he ran over to his little table in the corner of the living room where all his crayons were and settled in to draw, looking over at me now and then.

  I thought my heart was going to burst.

  Leo was now deep in conversation with Dad, who was watching him play the video game on the television in the sitting room.

  Mom and Dad bought the whole family a Nintendo one Christmas. It was agreed that it would be our combined main present
that year. It was a big deal. The boys were the only ones with a TV in their room because Darragh had saved for one doing summer jobs. That meant they set the console up in their room and us girls hardly ever got a shot at it. I couldn’t imagine Mom and Dad allowing us to set up that console in the family room. The family room was their domain.

  But it seemed Krista and my brother had allowed my adorable nephews to take over their entire house.

  “I think they like Aunt Dahlia,” Krista murmured in my ear.

  I turned around to see her leaning over the back of the armchair I was sitting in. Emotion bubbled in my throat, and I had to clear it to say, “They’ve been amazing. You all have.”

  She squeezed my shoulder and gave me a pretty smile. “It’s so nice to have you back.”

  God, I’d forgotten how much I liked my brother’s wife. Krista was one of those people who had a kind word for everybody. She hated confrontation, and my brother got frustrated sometimes that she was too soft-hearted with friends and colleagues who took advantage. But she also had this wicked sense of humor and, right now, I was particularly grateful for that and her ability to forgive and move on.

  Dinner with my brother and his family was fantastic. In fact, I was kicking myself for allowing so many years to pass between us when it was clear Darragh never blamed me for any of what happened. I knew he blamed me for staying away and that underneath his attempts to move on, he was still a little sore with me. But he was trying, and it was wonderful.

  My nephews were fantastic, and I was sad I’d missed so much time with them.

  “I’ll give you a shot in a second, Aunt Dahlia,” Leo called over to me. He had a pair of lungs on him, and he wasn’t afraid to use them. I’d discovered he liked to talk at a louder decibel than everyone else, as if he thought we all had hearing difficulties. “I want to get past this level, and then I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  My dad and I shared a grin.

  Leo was full of confidence. I’d learned over dinner he was a pitcher in the junior baseball league. “I’m good too,” he said around a mouthful of spaghetti. “Like, really good.”

  He was also in a tae kwon do league and could “kick butt.”

  Levi was quieter, a little shy even. It could be his age, but I think he was more like his mom in nature. Physically the boys were the perfect mix of their parents. Krista had smooth umber skin, huge dark eyes, and long hair she wore in tight braids. The boys weren’t as dark as Krista but had a beautiful tawny-beige skin tone, their dad’s hazel eyes, and their mother’s hair. Where Leo’s was styled short in tight waves, Levi’s was a wild, amazing Afro. I wasn’t biased when I said my nephews were gorgeous little boys.