The Choice - Nicholas Sparks [58]
He was, he realized, a little disappointed in himself for choosing the same type of woman over and over. No wonder Allison and Megan liked to give him such a hard time. It must have been like watching the same play with different actors, the outcome always the same. As he lay on the surfboard, watching the swells approach, he realized that the same thing that made women initially attractive to him—their need to be taken care of—was the very thing that eventually signaled the end of the relationship. How did that old saying go? If you’ve been divorced once, you might be right in thinking your ex was the problem. If you’ve been divorced three times? Well, folks, the problem is most definitely you. Granted, he hadn’t been divorced, but the point was well taken.
It amazed him that all this soul-searching seemed prompted by his day with Gabby. Gabby, the woman who’d falsely accused him, consistently avoided him, overtly antagonized him, and then made a point of repeatedly mentioning that she was in love with someone else. Go figure.
Behind him a swell seemed promising, and Travis began to paddle hard, maneuvering himself into the best possible position. Despite the glory of the day and the pleasures of the ocean, he couldn’t escape the truth: What he really wanted to do was to spend as much time as possible with Gabby, for as long as he possibly could.
“Good morning,” Kevin said into the phone, just as Gabby was getting ready to leave. Gabby moved the receiver to her other shoulder.
“Oh, hey,” she answered. “How are you?”
“Good. Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about the call last night. I wanted to call you when I got back to the room to apologize, but by then it was pretty late.”
“It’s okay. You sounded like you were having fun.”
“It was less thrilling than you probably think. The music was so loud that my ears are still ringing. I don’t know why I went with those guys in the first place. I should have known I was in trouble when they started doing shots right after dinner, but someone had to keep an eye on them.”
“And I’m sure you were the model of sobriety.”
“Of course,” he said. “You know I don’t drink much. Which means, of course, that I’ll probably crush them in the golf tournament today. They’ll be too hung over to even hit the ball.”
“Who were they?”
“Just some other brokers from Charlotte and Columbia. By the way they were acting, you’d have thought they hadn’t been out in years.”
“Maybe they haven’t.”
“Yeah, well . . .” She could hear him rustling and assumed he was getting dressed. “How about you? What did you end up doing?”
She hesitated. “Not too much.”
“I wish you could have come down. It would have been a lot more fun if you’d been here.”
“You know I couldn’t get off work.”
“I know. But I wanted to say it anyway. I’ll try to give you a call later, okay?”
“Sure. I might be out and about.”
“Oh, how’s Molly doing?”
“She’s doing well.”
“I think I might want one of those puppies. They were cute.”
“You’re just trying to get on my good side.”
“That’s the only side to be on. Hey, I was thinking, though. Maybe you and I could head down to Miami this fall for a long weekend. One of the guys I was talking to just got back from South Beach, and he said there were a couple of great golf courses nearby.”
She paused. “Have you ever thought about going to Africa?”
“Africa?”
“Yeah. Just taking off for a while, going on safari, seeing Victoria Falls? Or if not Africa, someplace in Europe? Like Greece?”
“Not really. And even if I wanted to, it’s not like I could get the time off. What made you think of that?”
“No reason,” she said.
While Gabby was on the phone, Travis walked up onto Gabby’s porch and knocked. A moment later, she appeared in the doorway, the phone to her ear. Motioning to the phone, she waved him inside. He stepped into the living room, expecting her to make some excuse on the phone, but instead she pointed to the couch and vanished into the kitchen, the swinging doors