Laughter rumbled in her chest. “Me either, but oddly, I don’t regret it.”
He tilted his head and locked eyes with her. A charge passed between them. “Me either.”
Breaking eye contact, she looked out the window. “Too bad we have to leave first thing in the morning. After staying the night, it would be nice to see the island.”
“Who says we have to rush back?”
“I, um,” she stammered then took a second to compose her thoughts. “We have responsibilities.”
“There’s no way we’ll make church services. Why not attend one on the island, have lunch then head back?”
“Our families will know.” Her voice sounded weak, even to her.
“Does it really matter?”
She turned her head slowly with one brow raised. “You’re the one who wanted to keep all this a secret.”
“Maybe I was wrong.” He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Who cares what they think? We’re adults and we know the truth.”
Do weshe wanted to ask? They were treading on uncharted territory. “Can I ask a question?”
“What is it?”
“Why didn’t you want to tell your family about the message in a bottle? You’re close to them, right?”
“Yes.” He swallowed, and she realized she’d touched a nerve.
In a single word, he’d answered her question.
“You didn’t want them to know how much that letter affected you, did you?” Probing him for answer risked pushing him away, but she wanted him to open up to her, let her see the real Jack.
“No.” He wouldn’t look at her.
She touched his shoulder. “We’re friends, right? And friends talk.”
“When I was in sixth grade, our class had to watch a movie where the dog died. The teacher asked how that made us feel, and I was honest and said it made me sad, like I wanted to cry. That was the wrong answer socially for a sixth grader.” He paused and licked his lips. “All the boys started laughing and teasing me, and I quickly realized my mistake. I started to fake cry and made a big scene like it was all one big joke.”
“Jack,” she whispered. “I guarantee every child in the classroom felt the same way but wasn’t brave enough to express it.”
“No, don’t speak to me with that pity voice.” He shrugged away and stood up. “I spent years hiding my emotions after that, pretending that I didn’t care. Emotions were for sissies, or so I believed. I know better now, but it’s a hard habit to break. Letting people see the real me is hard, and I’d rather keep that tucked away, but I can’t with Owen and Kelly. I can still vividly remember the classroom’s laughter that day. I never want to go through that again.”
His confession stunned her. One never knew what carved a person into who they were, and this singular event had made a profound impact on him. Standing to her feet, she put a hand on each of his shoulders. “You’ve let me see your emotions, and I’m not laughing.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, his voice hoarse. He broke away and turned without warning. “I’m going to grab our clothes from the dryer.”
She watched him walk away, and she was angry for the young boy who’d been teased, hurt for the man who was still affected all these years later.
The wind gusted and shook the hotel window. She wrapped her arms around herself, unsure what to do. Would Jack prefer she return to her room? Before she could decide, he returned.
He handed her a small pile of clothes. “The tv in the laundry room advertised a comedy movie coming up next. I saw it a few years back in the theatres and it’s decent. Want to watch it?”
“Sure.” Well, she had her answer. They were pretending the conversation never happened. She had no right to push for more, and she let it be.
Sitting on what she’d dubbed her chair, which was the right side of the bed, she determined to enjoy the movie. The only other option was returning to her room with hours before she’d be able to fall asleep and nothing to do but waste time playing around on her phone.
The movie made her laugh with a rare blend of clean humor. Though it sometimes bordered on cheesy, it was the mindless distraction she needed.
For Jack too, apparently. By the end, he’d laughed enough to burn a hundred calories. The spark had returned to his eyes and his features relaxed. “I don’t remember laughing that much at the theatre.”
