Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

After I’d gotten off the phone with him, my sister called to check on me. I heard from at least one member of my family every day, but I wasn’t complaining.

It was pretty freaking great.

Plus Darragh, Krista, and the boys were taking a vacation in Hartwell with Dad in two weeks. Davina, Astrid, and Dermot would stop by for one of the weekends too. I couldn’t wait.

Dumping the cartons of Chinese food in the kitchen, I rolled my shoulder and winced. Michael would lecture me for carrying the food upstairs, and maybe he was right. Grumbling to myself and my impatient desperation to be fully healed, I strolled through the apartment to our bedroom to change into yoga pants and a comfy T-shirt.

As I walked toward the closet, however, something shining on the bed caught my eye.

Frowning because there hadn’t been anything on it when Michael made it that morning, I walked over to it.

My pulse raced as recognition moved through me and I rounded the bed on shaky legs.

I stood, looking down at the object as goose bumps rose all over my body.

The silver rose brooch I’d made for Dillon sat perched in the middle between my pillow and Michael’s. Like a bridge between the two.

The silver rose brooch I kept locked in a treasure box I was pretty sure Michael didn’t even know existed was on our bed?

“Earth to Dahlia,” Michael’s voice broke through.

I glanced up, surprised to see him standing in the doorway.

He frowned. “You okay?”

I looked down at the brooch. “Did you put that there?”

Michael stared at it and shrugged. “No. What is it?”

Knowing he was telling the truth, the little hairs all down my arms stood on end.

Dillon.

Not answering him, I hurried to the closet, pulling the little decorative chair over that I kept in the corner of the room. The one I usually piled clothes on, driving my neat-freak boyfriend nuts. Stepping up onto it, I pushed through the shoeboxes arranged on the top shelf and felt for my treasure box.

“Dahlia, what the hell are you doing?” Michael huffed. “Watch what you’re doing with your shoulder.”

“I am,” I grunted, pulling out the box.

It was still locked.

Jumping down off the chair, I hurried past a very confused Michael and back through the apartment to the sideboard in our living room. Opening it, I searched through until I found the trinket box I was looking for.

Pulling it out, I flipped it open. Small familiar keys sat inside.

The keys to my treasure box. Right where I’d left them.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Michael followed me as I hurried back to the bedroom and to the treasure box. My hands shook as I opened it.

Inside were letters between me, Davina, and Dillon when we were younger. Letters from Aunt Cecilia. A movie ticket stub from the first movie Michael had taken me to, and a letter my dad had sent me when I first moved to Hartwell. No brooch, even though I’d kept it locked in that box for years. No brooch.

Because it was on our bed.

Somehow.

I shut the box and rounded the bed again to stare at the silver rose.

Dillon.