Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

“Because of the way I found you wandering the streets of Chelsea in the early hours of the morning where anything could have happened to you, and you seemed oblivious to your surroundings. Luckily for you, Michael was following you and called me to tell me where you were.”

Shocked, I gaped at him. “He followed me?”

“Whatever is going on between you, he cares about you. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Which doesn’t change that what you did was stupid.”

Hearing the bite in his tone, I realized my dad was kind of pissed about that and had been holding it in. It distracted me from the thought of Michael taking care of me from a distance. “Dad, I’m sorry. All I seem to do is worry you.”

“I’m a parent.” His eyes shadowed with grief. “Who’s already lost one kid. Believe me, you could be living the safest, happiest life and I’d still worry about you.”

My heart ached for him. He was always so strong that sometimes I forgot he dealt with Dillon’s loss every day too. And it was every day. I knew that. The intense, suffocating pain of grief could lessen and dull over the years, but it never went away. Especially not for a parent. I knew Dillon was always with my mom and dad.

“Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised, and I knew he meant it.

“Do you think …” I hesitated, hoping I wasn’t out of line with my next question. “Do you think you might consider dating?” After Darragh mentioned it, I’d thought about it a lot. I’d decided it would be a travesty if Dad didn’t date. My parents had us young, so my dad was only in his mid-fifties, and he could definitely pass for his mid-to-late forties. And he was amazing. “Maybe get yourself a hot, young thing?” I teased. “And by young, I mean a maximum of twenty years younger than you.”

Dad gave a huff of laughter. “You think a woman Darragh’s age is going to be interested in me?”

“Dad, don’t be self-deprecating. You know you look good.”

“And you’re advocating that I date a younger woman?” he grinned.

“Yes! Why not? I have done the dating thing. After years of terrible dates with guys my age or younger, I moved up ten years, and they’re still morons. You’ll be catnip to women Darragh’s age, Dad. Trust me.”

My father seemed amused by this, but I could also see the wheels turning in his head, and I smirked to myself. I wasn’t trying to drive the wedge deeper between him and my mom. No, I only wanted him to be happy. Maybe dating someone with fewer issues than Sorcha McGuire would be a welcome change for him.

“Will you think about it?”

He gave me a small nod. “I’ll think about it.”

“Dermot can set you up on the dating apps but whatever you do, do not take any dating advice from him.”

He snorted. “He’s my son, Dahlia. I already know to switch off when he talks about women.”

We shared a chuckle, and I almost thought I got away with changing the subject. Very naïve of me.

“So, Michael?” he asked abruptly.

“Oh, Dad.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing left to talk about. We got a lot off our chests last night.” I studied my mug, trying not to blush at how much we’d “gotten off our chests.” “Ultimately, although we both have a clearer picture of what happened, we decided there are too many issues between us to move forward. Plus, Michael lives here, and I live in Hartwell. The long-distance thing on top of our issues is a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dad didn’t bother to ask if I’d think about moving back to Boston. He knew I loved my family, but he also knew I was genuinely happy living in Hartwell, making and selling my jewelry.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out. You know I care about Michael. I would like you to have someone like him in your life. I’m not worried about you being alone anymore,” he hurried to say. “You’re strong and independent, and I couldn’t be prouder of you. I just want you to find someone.”

“I promise to try if you promise.”

Dad grinned, his dimple indenting his left cheek. “I promise.”

I got up and hugged him. He held onto my arm and leaned into me when I kissed his cheek.

“I can’t wait for Christmas. It’s so nice to be excited about coming home.”

“It’s so nice to know you’ll be coming home.”