Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

My dad loved my mom.

He loved her.

“Did she leave you?”

“It was mutual, dahlin’. Things weren’t working out.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Love you, Dahlia, you know that. But like I said to your brothers and Davina, this isn’t for you kids to get. It’s between your mom and me.”

He sounded exhausted.

And low.

And despondent.

The thought of my dad feeling that way without me there—the idea of him going through this with my mother for who knows how long, and I wasn’t there …

Guilt drenched me.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m coming home.”

He sighed. “Bluebell, you don’t need to do that.”

“No, I do.” The thought was more than a little nauseating; however, I needed to see my dad. I needed to hug him. He visited me when he could but it was never enough, and I needed to hug my dad and make sure he was okay. “I’ll get a flight out as soon as possible. I’m heading home to arrange it all now. I’ll call you when I know my flight time.”

“You know I’m not going to talk you out of this. I can’t wait to see you, kiddo.” Hearing how much his tone had lightened upon my declaration of homecoming put a pause on all my concerns. Whatever I felt, whatever I had to deal with in returning to Everett, it was worth it already.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. You call me to let me know when your flight is coming in.”

“We’ll talk when I get there, yeah?”

“Of course.”

We said goodbye and my throat clogged with emotion.

My dad had been hurting, and I hadn’t been there. I blinked back tears and turned toward my concerned friends. “My parents are getting divorced. I need to go back to Boston to see my dad.”

Emery and Jess hugged me, telling me they were sorry, but it was Bailey who grabbed my arm and told me she’d walk me out.

Because she was the only one who knew my story.

Arm in arm, we stepped out onto the boardwalk. The cold ocean breeze nipped at our cheeks as we strolled in silence.

Then … “Dahlia, do you need me to come with you?”

I gave my best friend a tremulous smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that offer more than you know, but my dad probably needs privacy right now.”

“I get that. But what about what you need?”

I gazed into Bailey’s anxious green eyes. “For nine years my dad has been putting what I needed before what he needs. Before probably even what my family needs. I not only owe him this, Bailey, but I need to be there for him. I can’t believe he’s been going through this and I haven’t been there. I mean,” I said on a shaky exhale, “he loves my mom. He loves her like you love Vaughn, like I love …”

“Michael.” Bailey pulled me into a hug. “And what about Michael, Dahlia? Can you deal with possibly seeing him? Seeing him with his wife?”

I curled my fingers into her shirt and forced back the tears her words caused, almost choking on them.