Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [67]
“She really does,” he whispered to himself with a small smile on his face. “She really does.”
Theresa emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, looking rested and fresh. Smelling coffee brewing, she went to the kitchen for a cup. After putting a piece of bread in the toaster, Garrett walked to her side.
“Good morning, again,” he said, kissing the back of her neck.
“Good morning again to you, too.”
“Sorry about leaving the bedroom last night.”
“Hey, it’s okay…. I understand.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I do.” She turned and faced him with a smile. “I had a wonderful night.”
“So did I,” he said. Fishing a coffee cup out of the cupboard for Theresa, he asked over his shoulder, “Do you want to do something today? I called the shop and told them I wasn’t coming in.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“How about showing you around Wilmington?”
“We could do that.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Did you have anything else you wanted to do instead?”
“How about we just sort of hang around here today?”
“And do what?”
“Oh, I can think of a couple of things,” she said, putting her arms around him. “That is, if you don’t have a problem with that.”
“No,” he said with a grin. “No problem at all.”
For the next four days, Theresa and Garrett were inseparable. Garrett ceded control of the shop to Ian, even allowing him to teach the dive classes on Saturday, something he’d never done before. Twice, Garrett and Theresa went sailing; on the second night they stayed out all night on the ocean, lying together in the cabin, rocked by the gentle swells of the Atlantic. Later that evening she asked him to tell her more adventure stories about early sailors, and she stroked his hair as the sound of his voice reverberated against the interior of the hull.
What she didn’t know was that after she’d fallen asleep, Garrett left her side as he had their first night together and paced the deck alone. He thought about Theresa sleeping inside and the fact that she would be leaving soon, and with that thought came another memory from years before.
“I really don’t think you should go,” Garrett said, looking at Catherine with concern in his eyes.
She stood beside the front door, her suitcase beside her, frustrated with his comment. “C’mon, Garrett, we’ve already talked about this. I’m only going to be gone for a few days.”
“But you haven’t been yourself lately.”
Catherine felt like throwing up her hands. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine? My sister really needs me—you know how she is. She’s worried about the wedding, and Mom isn’t much help at all.”
“But I need you, too.”
“Garrett—just because you have to be at the shop all day long doesn’t mean I have to stay here, too. We’re not joined at the hip.”
Garrett took an involuntary step backward, as if she’d struck him. “I didn’t say we were. I’m just not sure whether you should go when you’re feeling this way.”
“You never want me to go anywhere.”
“Can I help it if I miss you when you’re gone?”
Her face softened just a little. “I may leave, Garrett, but you know I’ll always come back.”
When the memory faded, Garrett walked back inside the cabin and saw Theresa lying under the sheet. Quietly he slipped in beside her and held her tightly against him.
The following day was spent at the beach, sitting near the pier where they’d first had lunch. When Theresa got sunburned by the early morning rays, Garrett walked to one of the many shops right off the beach and brought back some lotion. He applied it to her back, rubbing it into her skin, as gently as if she were a child, and even though she didn’t want to believe it, deep down she could feel that there were moments when his mind was drifting somewhere else. But then, just as suddenly, the moments would pass and she would wonder whether she’d been mistaken.
They had lunch at Hank’s again, holding hands and staring at each other from across the table. They talked quietly, oblivious to the throngs around them, neither one of