Michael stared at me until I squirmed.
“What?”
“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time with me. I get it. You’re a funny smart-ass, and I love that about you. But let’s be real here, Dahlia. Whatever happened tonight, you are not as cool about it as you’re trying to make out. Or you wouldn’t have called me.”
Tears burned my eyes and I looked away.
Seconds later his warm, calloused hand wrapped around mine and I turned back to him. “Talk to me.”
So I laid it out. Everything my mom had said tonight and everything that had come before. I swiped angrily at a tear that slipped by my defenses. “It wasn’t so bad when I was a kid. At least I didn’t notice it so much. But the older I got, the more she singled me out. I don’t remember her coming down on Darragh, Davina, or Dermot like this. I mean, as far as she’s concerned, Dar and Davi are the best. They both went to college, they’re both doing jobs that will eventually make them good money—hopefully. Dillon can do no wrong in my mom’s eyes, so the fact that my sister will probably struggle financially as a beautician for the rest of her life doesn’t even seem to register with Mom. It’s apparently a practical skill set to have.” I rolled my eyes. “And Dermot … my God, my brother has moved from job to job, before settling on the police academy. And we’re all holding our breaths on that one. But did my mom come down on him throughout all those years? No. It was all ‘Don’t worry about him, Cian, our boy will find his way.’
“While me …” I gave a snort of bitter laughter. “I’m wasting my life. MassArt is a waste of time. I’m not special enough to make a career out of my creativity.”
“She said that?” He glared at me.
I nodded. “She’s said that to me my whole life. When I wanted to try out for gymnastics, she told me there was no point, because I was too chubby as a kid. When I wanted to join the school choir, she laughed and told me I was tone deaf, so I didn’t bother. When my art teacher put my portfolio forward for a regional award, and I won …” I bit back more tears as I remembered. “She, uh … she looked at the award and said, ‘Wow, I guess they were short on talent this year.’” I know she said it to dissuade me from art and not because she meant it, but it stung.”
“Jesus fuck.” Michael looked disgusted.
I wiped away another tear. “My dad lost his shit with her and wouldn’t talk to her until she apologized. Which she did. But I knew underneath she was mad at me about that too.”
“What she said isn’t right, Dahlia.”
I nodded. “One night we were arguing about my boyfriend at the time. I was sixteen, and I stupidly left condoms in my bedside table. She found them and went off about me having sex. That, I don’t blame her for. I get it now, but I didn’t then. So we had this huge argument, and I asked her if I was even her kid. If Dad had cheated on her and I was the result, and she hated me for it? I have never seen her so pissed. I thought she was going to hit me, she was so fuckin’ mad. Instead, she grabbed my hairbrush and said she’d do a DNA test to prove that my worthless ass was unfortunately hers.” I exhaled shakily, the old confusion rolling over me when I told him. “Later that night I overheard her crying in her bedroom. My dad was comforting her because she wasn’t mad at me. She was mad at herself … that she had made me feel like I wasn’t her kid.
“So she knows.” More salty tears rolled down my cheeks. “She knows what she’s doing, Michael. She can’t seem to help herself, and I don’t get it.”
He’d not let go of my hand since he’d first taken it, and he squeezed it now. “Have you thought about asking your dad?”
“I’m afraid if I do, I’ll cause problems between them. My parents love each other. Like, so much. I want what they have. And I adore my dad, Michael. He’s the best guy ever. I don’t want to put him in the position where he feels like he’s in a war between his kid and his wife. I need to get out of there. I think once I have my own place, my relationship with her will get better.”
Michael nodded. “You could be right. My life is better now I’m out of my parents’ house.”
I knew from Gary that Michael had followed in his dad’s footsteps to be a cop, but I’d picked up on little things Michael had said over the last few months and I suspected his family life hadn’t been great. “You’re not close with your dad, are you? Despite the cop connection?”
He shook his head. “My dad is a lot like your mom. He, uh … he tried to crush my confidence my whole life. I guess he saw something in me he didn’t like very much, something that made him feel insecure. He tried to stop me from succeeding, but it only drove me to succeed at whatever I put my mind to. I worked hard at school, and I played ball. Gary’s dad was a fuckin’ nightmare, and he didn’t deal with that very well. Gary pulled a lot of shit he shouldn’t, and I was always there, trying to get him out of it. Dad liked that. He liked me in trouble.” The muscle in his jaw clenched, and I squeezed his hand. “I wanted to go to law school, but we couldn’t afford it. I was trying for a scholarship, but Gary broke into a liquor store, and I got caught trying to stop him. Gary told the cops I was there to stop him—so did a couple of idiot guys who were with him. The police believed me, let me go. But Dad told my coach, who was a hardass. He benched me. My math teacher, who I respected, and who was a Boston U alum, found out why and withdrew his recommendation offer. There was no way I was getting that scholarship. So, I graduated, and I did the next best thing, which was to apply to the police academy.
“That pleased my old man. ‘See,’ he said, ‘you ain’t no better than me.’”
“Michael,” I said, hating that for him.
He shook his head, his dark eyes blazing with determination. “It’s not going to stop me, Dahlia. One day I’ll make lieutenant. Then detective. And if I want to, I’ll go all the way to captain. Let him choke on that.”
“You’ll do it too.” I knew he would. “Absolutely.”
We shared a tender smile, and I watched the shadows lift from his eyes. “Gary said the
same thing. At least I have him. He’s the one person who has always had my back.”
“I never realized when I called you that you’d understand so completely what I’m going through. I wish you didn’t. I don’t want that for you. Do you at least have a mom who’s like my dad?”
Just like that, the shadows came back. “No. My mom is a timid woman. She’s afraid of my dad.”
“Does he hurt her?” I was almost afraid to ask.
“Not anymore. Not since I got big enough to take the hits instead. I was worried when I moved out, but I think he knows, me being a cop now, I’d fuckin’ ruin him if he touched her again.”
Without thinking about it, I reached across the center console and wrapped my arms around him. Michael hesitated for a second but then his strong arms enveloped me.