Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

Michael smirked, but he knew it was more of a snarl. “How about just letting me put him in your office until I can get a deputy out here. I need to get to that trailer.”

Cooper nodded, and Michael shuffled his dad, who fought all the way down the hall. He shoved him inside, and Cooper locked the door behind him. His dad’s drunken yells followed him down the hall.

Fuck, he was shaking.

“You okay?”

“What? Him?” Michael shrugged and then lied, “I stopped letting him get to me years ago.”

“No, I meant Dahlia.”

He glared at the door that would lead him back out to her. “Woman fucks me up.”

Cooper was sympathetic. “Been there.”

Bracing himself, he walked back out into the bar and tried to ignore Dahlia’s big, concerned eyes. In fact, he brushed right past her and out the door. He didn’t think he could talk to her without yelling. Plus, everyone was gawking.

Everything Dahlia said to his dad was great, but she should’ve said it to him. Which made him question the validity of it.

Was it pity?

Did she say that all out of fuckin’ pity?

“Michael!”

He kept striding down the boards. There was too much pain he needed to stay locked up right now, and Dahlia had a habit of opening the door to it.

“Michael.” She grabbed his arm, and something split open inside him as he spun to face her. Her beautiful face was taut with anguish. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” he bit out. “About that awful fuckin’ scene in there? About you facing off to that drunken dickwad because you felt sorry for me?” He bent his head to growl his ire in her face, “I don’t need your fuckin’ pity.”

She was aghast. “It wasn’t pity. It was the truth.” She grabbed at him, but he shrugged her off. A mulish expression fell over her features. “I realized today that what I said to you this morning … it’s … I have to fight it. I was just tired of always feeling guilty, and I thought to be with you would mean always feeling that way, but I need to let that go. I know I need to let that go. Michael, it hurts more to be without you. So much more.”

Everything she was saying should’ve meant everything to him. It was what he wanted. But his dad’s voice was ringing in his head, and now the last few weeks looked different than they had yesterday. What had been a determined pursuit of the woman he loved seemed more like a dog scratching at the door for scraps.

Now he questioned everything.

Did she love him like he loved her?

Would it always be a struggle to be with her, to get her to open up to him?

Would she always make him feel like he was failing … like his dad made him feel?

“I have to go,” he muttered. “I’m on duty.”

Michael was a little woozy, a little light-headed, as he turned to walk away, but he knew she’d let him go. He knew she wouldn’t fight.

“Michael.”

He faltered, hesitated at the plea in his name.

“I know what he said hurts. I understand better than anyone, so when the pain of that awful scene fades away, when you can see me clearly again, I’ll be here. This time forever.”

The words wrapped around him, almost like she’d put her arms around him and rested her head on his back. Was it enough? Could he trust that tomorrow she wouldn’t wake up and remember that she was supposed to pay some kind of screwed-up penance to Dillon?

Exhausted, weary beyond measure, Michael walked away.

He had a job to do.