Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

“Dad!” The word was garbled by my tears as I moved to chase him.

“Don’t.” Darragh reached across the table and grabbed my wrist. “Let him go.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Davina shook her head.

“Because she was wrong and she wasn’t wrong. And her daughter had just died, and I didn’t … I didn’t want you to hate her.”

“Too late for that.” Davina curled her lip.

Dread filled me. “Davina, she wasn’t in her right mind.”

“Oh? Is she still not? Because since I came out, she pretends like she’s still my mother, like my being gay doesn’t bother her, but she’s never been to my apartment. She’s never invited Astrid and me for suppa unless it was Thanksgiving and the whole family was here. And let’s put aside her secret homophobia and remind ourselves that she erased you from her life. She doesn’t talk about you, she doesn’t let anyone else talk about you, and she acted like it was all your fuckin’ fault!” She pushed away from the table.

“Davina,” Darragh admonished.

“No!” She sobbed. “I hate her, Dar. I hate her.”

“Come here.” He stood up, and I watched as he pulled my sister into his arms as she cried. My poor brother. I wondered if he’d known he’d spend most of his day comforting his little sisters.

I knew that Davina wasn’t merely crying about me. My heart was already shredded by my mother, but Davina’s confirmation that my mom had erased me was like a knife in my gut. The knife twisted as I realized she’d not only hurt me but she’d inflicted wounds on my big sister too. The depth of Davina’s pain was about her relationship with Sorcha McGuire. I wasn’t the only daughter my mom couldn’t accept. It sounded like she hadn’t fully come to terms with Davina being gay. I knew what it was like to feel the harsh chill of Mom’s disapproval. You could be five, fifteen, or fifty, and feeling like one of your parents didn’t love you or agree with who you’d become was one of the worst hurts in the world.

I wished I’d been there for Davina.

Seeing how close she and Darragh still were, however, soothed me. They had each other. I glanced over my shoulder at the doorway dad had stormed out of. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. At once, the separation between Mom and Dad started to make sense. Cian McGuire loved his kids more than anything. We were his life. I had no doubt that Mom’s treatment of two of their daughters had put a strain on their marriage.

And he hadn’t even known the full of it.

Until now.

My concern grew.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything after all if it had meant hurting Dad.

“Stop it.”

Davina’s harsh voice brought my attention back to her. She and my brother were no longer hugging. Instead, she was looking at me with a million things in her expression. “Don’t sit there and worry that you shouldn’t have told the truth because of Dad. It was long past due, and you did the right thing. He’s not mad at you. He’s mad at himself.”

“I know what it’s like to be mad at yourself and frankly, I’d prefer him to be mad at me.”

She gave me a soft smile that made my heart race. “Some things never change. I’m still mad at you, Dahlia, but you didn’t leave for selfish reasons. You left to protect him and to protect us from the truth.”

“Don’t make me sound noble. I was a drunk who ended up in therapy.”

“Yeah.” She walked around t

he table and held her hand out to me. “But now I get why. I’m still mad at you for not coming back sooner. But I guess I kind of understand that too now.”

I took her hand and let her pull me up. My arms flew around her, and she gave a huff of laughter as I held on tight. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby sis.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. For everything.” I looked at Darragh. “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Pulling back, I sniffled. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yeah, we do,” Darragh agreed. “Krista wants you to come for dinner this week. The boys are dying to meet their aunt Dahlia who gives them such cool presents every year.”