love with Sydney. How could I be when I’m in love with Maggie? It shouldn’t be possible for the heart to love more than one person at once.
She diverts her eyes away and scoots off my lap. She stands and slowly walks the length of the living room and back. She’s thinking, so I give her a moment. I know my answer has hurt her, but I know a lie would have hurt her even more. She finally turns to me.
“I can spend all night asking you really brutal questions, Ridge. I don’t want to do that. I’ve had a lot of time to think this through, and I have a lot I need to say to you.”
“If brutal questions will help you, then ask me brutal questions. Please. We’ve been together five years, and I can’t let this tear us apart.”
She shakes her head, then takes a seat on the couch opposite me. “I don’t need to ask the questions, because I already know all the answers. I just need to talk to you now about where we go from here.”
I lean forward, not liking where this is going. I don’t like it at all. “At least, allow me to explain myself. You can’t come to a decision about what happens to us without hearing me out first.”
She shakes her head again, and my heart clenches. “I already know, Ridge. I know you. I know your heart. I’ve read your conversations with Sydney. I already know what you’re going to tell me. You’re going to tell me how much you love me. How you would do anything for me. You’re going to apologize for developing feelings for another girl, despite how hard you tried to prevent that from happening. You’re going to tell me you love me so much more than I know and how your relationship with me is so much more important to you than your feelings for Sydney. You’re going to tell me you’ll do anything to make it up to me and that I just need to give you a chance. You’re probably going to be brutally honest with me, also, and tell me that you do have feelings for Sydney but they don’t compare to how you feel about me.”
She stands and moves to sit next to me on the couch. There are traces of tears in her eyes, but she isn’t crying anymore. She faces me and begins signing again.
“And you know what, Ridge? I believe you. And I understand all of it. I do. I’ve read your conversations. It’s as if I was right there, sifting through it all while the two of you were attempting to fight whatever was developing between you. I keep telling myself to quit logging back into your account, but I can’t stop. I’ve read those conversations a million times. I deciphered every word, every sentence, every punctuation mark. I wanted to find the spot in your conversations that proved your disloyalty to me. I wanted to find the moment in your conversations where you became this despicable excuse for a man by admitting that what you felt for her was purely sexual. God, Ridge. I wanted to find that moment so bad, but I couldn’t. I know you kissed her, but even the kiss seemed excusable after the two of you had that open discussion about it. I’m your girlfriend, and even I began to excuse it.
“I’m not saying what you did is readily forgivable, by any means. You should have asked her to move out the second you felt compelled to kiss her. Hell, you shouldn’t have ever asked her to move in if there was even the slightest possibility that you were attracted to her. What you did was wrong in every sense of the word, but what’s so messed up is that I feel like I understand it. Maybe it’s because I know you too well, but the fact that you’re falling in love with Sydney is obvious, and I can’t just sit back and share your heart with her, Ridge. I can’t do it.”
No, no, no, no, no. I quickly pull her to me, wanting the comfort of her to subdue the panic building within me.
She can be heartbroken. She can even be pissed or terrified, but the one thing I won’t let her be is okay. She can’t just be okay with this.
Tears begin to sting my eyes as I hold her as if my embrace is somehow supposed to convince her of how I feel. I’m shaking my head no, trying to get her not to take this conversation where I’m afraid it’s headed.
I press my lips against hers in an attempt to make it all go away. I hold her face in the palms of my hands and try desperately to show her how I feel without having to pull apart from her again.
Her lips part, and I kiss her, something I’ve done on a regular basis for more than five years but never with so much conviction or fear.
Her mouth tastes of tears, and I’m not sure whose they are, because we’re both crying now. She pushes against my chest, wanting to speak to me, but I don’t want her to. I don’t want to watch her tell me how okay my feelings for Sydney are.
They’re not okay. They shouldn’t be okay at all.
She sits up and pushes me away from her, then wipes her tears. I lean my elbow into the couch and cover my mouth with my trembling hand.
“There’s more. There’s so much more I need to tell you, and I need you to give me the opportunity to get it out, okay?”
I simply nod, when all I want to do is tell her how hearing her out is the last thing my heart can take right now. She adjusts herself and pulls her legs onto the couch. She wraps her arms around them and rests her cheek on her knee, looking away from me. She’s still and quiet and contemplating.
I’m a complete wreck as I sit here and wait.
She unwraps her hands from around her legs and slowly lifts her head to look me in the eyes. “Remember the day we met?” she asks.
There’s a faint smile in her eyes, and my panic eases slightly at the pleasantness in her memory. I nod.
“I noticed you first, before I noticed Warren. When Warren approached me, I was hoping he was approaching me for you. I remember making eye contact with you over his shoulder, because I wanted to smile at you so you would know that you caught my eye the same way I caught yours. But when I realized Warren wasn’t approaching me for you, I was disappointed. There was something about you that tugged at me in a way that Warren didn’t, but you didn’t seem to have that same reaction to me. Warren was cute, so I agreed to go out with him, especially since I thought you weren’t into me that day.”
I close my eyes and soak in her words for a moment. I never knew this. I’m not sure at this point that I want to know this. After several quiet moments, I reluctantly open my eyes again and let her finish.
“For the short time I dated Warren, you and I would have these brief conversations and moments of eye contact that always seemed to make you uncomfortable, and I knew it made you uncomfortable because you were developing feelings for me. But your loyalty to Warren was so strong that you wouldn’t allow yourself to go there. I always admired that about you, because I knew the two of us would have worked so well. To be honest, I was secretly hoping you would betray his friendship and just kiss me or something, because you were all I thought about. I’m not even sure I was with Warren for Warren. I think I was with him for you all along.
“Then, a few weeks after Warren and I broke up, I began to think I’d never see you again, because you never came for me like I hoped you would. The thought of that terrified me, so I showed up at your apartment one day. You weren’t there, but Brennan was. I think he knew why I was there, so he told me not to worry, that I just needed to give you time. He told me about the deal you and Warren made and that you really did have feelings for me but didn’t feel right pursuing them yet. He even showed me the date you had circled on the calendar. I’ll never forget how that made me feel, and from that point on, I counted down the days until you showed up at my front door.”
She wipes away a tear. I briefly close my eyes and try to show her respect by not allowing myself to pull her to me again, but it’s so hard. I never knew she came for me. Brennan never told me, and right now, I’m struggling with wanting to let him know how pissed I am that he kept quiet and how much I love him for informing Maggie of how I felt.
“I fell in love with you during that year of waiting for you. I fell in love with your loyalty to Warren. I fell in love with your loyalty to me. I fell in love with your patience and your willpower. I fell in love with the fact that you didn’t want to start things out wrong with us. You wanted everything
to be as right as it could be, so you waited an entire year. Believe me, Ridge. I know how hard it was, because I was waiting right along with you.”
I lift my hand and wipe a tear from her cheek, then let her finish.
“I swore I wouldn’t allow my illness to interfere with us. I wouldn’t let it prevent me from completely falling in love with you. I wouldn’t let it be my crutch to push you away. You were so adamant that it didn’t matter to you, and I was so desperate to believe you. We were both lying to ourselves. I think my illness is the thing you love the most about me.”
My breath catches in my throat. Those words hurt me more than any words ever have. “Why would you say something like that, Maggie?”
“I know it sounds absurd to you because you don’t see it that way. It’s who you are. You’re loyal. You love people to a fault. You want to take care of everyone around you, including me, Brennan, Warren . . . Sydney. It’s just who you are, and seeing how Warren treated me back then made you want to jump in and become my hero. I’m not saying you don’t love me for me, because I know you do. I just think you love me the wrong way.”
I run my palm over my forehead and try to squeeze the pain away. My head can’t take another second of listening to how incredibly wrong she is. “Maggie, stop. If you’re about to use your illness as an excuse to leave me, I won’t listen to it. I can’t. You’re talking like you’re about to just give up on us, and it’s scaring the living hell out of me. I didn’t come here for you to give up. I need you to fight with me. I need you to fight for us.”
She tilts her head to the side, slowly shaking it in disagreement. “I shouldn’t have to fight for us, Ridge. I fight every goddamned day of my life just to survive. I should be able to revel in us, but I can’t. I’m constantly living in fear that I’m going to upset you or make you angry because you want so badly to form a protective bubble around me. You don’t want me taking risks or doing anything that causes me one iota of stress. You don’t see the point in my going to college, since we both know my fate. You don’t see the point in me having a career, because you think it’s better if I just let you take care of me while I take it easy. You don’t understand my yearning to experience the things that give people that rush of adrenaline. You get mad when I bring up the idea of traveling, because you don’t think it’s safe for my health. You refuse to go on tour with your brother, because you want to be the one to take care of me when I get sick. You give up so much of your life to make sure I’m not having to give up any of mine, and sometimes it’s so suffocating.”
Suffocating?
I’m suffocating?
I stand up and pace the room for several moments, attempting to breathe the air back into my lungs that she’s repeatedly knocking out. After I’m calm enough to respond, I return to the couch and face her again.
“I’m not trying to suffocate you, Maggie. I just want to protect you. We don’t have the luxury of time like every other couple. Is it wrong that I want to prolong what we have for as long as we possibly can?”
“No, Ridge. It’s not wrong. I love that about you so much, but I don’t love it for me. It always feels as though you’re trying to be my lifeguard. I don’t need a lifeguard, Ridge. I need someone who is willing to watch me brave the ocean and then dare me not to drown. But you wouldn’t be able to let me near the ocean. It’s not your fault that you can’t give me that.”
I know it’s just an analogy, but she’s only using it to make excuses.
“You think that’s what you want,” I sign. “It’s not. You can’t tell me you’d rather be with someone who would allow you to risk the time you have left than have someone who would do whatever he could to prolong his life with you.”
She exhales. I can’t tell if she’s admitting I’m right or if she’s frustrated because I’m wrong. She looks me square in the eyes and leans forward, then briefly presses her lips to mine. As soon as I lift my hands to her face, she pulls back again.
“I’ve known all my life that I could die at any moment. You don’t know what that’s like, Ridge, but I want you to try to put yourself in my shoes. If you knew all your life that you were going to die at any moment, would you be okay with just barely living? Or would you live as hard as you could? Because you’re needing me to barely live, Ridge. I can’t do that. When I die, I need to know that I did everything I’ve ever wanted to do, and I’ve seen everything I’ve ever wanted to see, and I’ve loved everyone I’ve ever wanted to love. I can’t just barely live anymore, and it’s not in your nature to stick by my side and watch me do all the things I still have left to do in my life.
“You’ve spent five years of your life loving me like no one’s ever loved me. My love has matched yours minute for minute. I don’t want you to ever doubt that. People take so much for granted, and I never want you to feel that I took you for granted. Everything you do for me is so much more than I deserve, and you need to know how much that means to me. But there are times when I feel like our devotion to each other is tying us down. Keeping us both from really living. The past few days have helped me realize that I’m still with you because I’m scared to break your heart. But if I don’t find the courage to do it, I’m scared I’ll just keep holding you back. Holding myself back. I feel like I can’t live the life I want to live for fear of hurting you, and you can’t live the life you want to live because your heart is too loyal for your own good. As much as it hurts me to admit this, I think I might be better off without you. I also think that maybe someday you’ll realize you’re better off without me.”
My elbows meet my knees as I lean forward and turn away from her. I can’t watch her say another word to me. Every single thing she’s saying is not only breaking my heart, but it feels as if it’s also breaking the heart within my heart.
It hurts so much, and I’m so damn scared, because for a moment, I begin to think there’s a possibility that she’s right.
Maybe she doesn’t need me.
Maybe I do hold her back.
Maybe I’m not the hero to her I’ve always tried so hard to be, because right now, I feel as if she doesn’t even need a hero. Why would she? She has someone so much stronger than I’ll ever be for her. She has herself.
The realization that I may not be what she needs in her life consumes me, and my regret and guilt and shame fold in on themselves, completely devouring the strength I have left.
I feel her arms wrap around me, and I pull her to me, needing to feel her against me. I love her so damn much, and all I want right now is for her to know that, even if it doesn’t change anything. I pull her to me and press my forehead to hers as we both cry, holding on to each other with all we have left. Tears are streaming down her cheeks as she slides onto my lap.
She mouths, “I love you,” then presses her lips to mine. I pull her against my chest as close as I possibly can without crawling inside of her, which is exactly what my heart is trying to do. It wants to embed itself within the walls of her chest, and it never wants to let go.
Chapter Twenty Two
Sydney
My cable won’t be connected until next week. My eyes hurt from reading too much, and maybe also from crying. I finally put a down payment on a car with my leftover student loans, but until I get a job, I can’t really afford the gas. I’d better find a job soon, because I’m pretty sure I’ve fictionalized how great living alone is. I’m tempted to try to get my job back at the library, even if I have to beg. I just need something to keep me busy.
I’m. Freaking. Bored.
So bored that I’m looking at my hands, counting random things that make absolutely no sense to even be counting.
One: the number of people constantly on my mind. (Ridge.)
Two: the number of people I wish would contract a sexually transmitted disease. (Hunter and Tori.)
Three: the number of months since I broke up with my lying, cheating bastard of a boyfriend.
Four: the number of times Warren has checked up on me since I moved out of t
he apartment.
Five: the number of times Warren has knocked on my door in the last thirty seconds.
Six: the number of days since I last saw Ridge.
Seven: the number of feet from my couch to the front door.
I open the door, and Warren doesn’t even wait for me to invite him in. He smiles and slips past me, holding two white bags in his hands.
“I brought tacos,” he says. “I was driving by on my way home from work and thought you might want some.” He sets the bags on my kitchen counter, then walks to the sofa and plops down.
I close the door and face him. “Thanks for the tacos, but how do I know you aren’t pranking me? What’d you do, switch the beef out with tobacco?”
Warren looks up at me and grins, impressed. “Now, that’s a genius prank idea, Sydney. I think you might finally be getting the hang of it.”
I laugh and take a seat next to him. “Figures, now that I have no roommates to prank.”
He laughs and pats my knee. “Bridgette doesn’t get off work until midnight. Want to go catch a movie?”
My head sinks into the back of the couch almost as quickly as my heart sinks into my stomach. I hate feeling as if he’s only here because he feels sorry for me. The last thing I want to be is someone’s worry.
“Warren, you don’t have to keep coming by here to check on me every day. I know you’re trying to be nice, but I’m fine.” He shifts his weight on the couch so that he’s facing me.
“I’m not coming by here because I feel sorry for you, Sydney. You’re my friend. I miss having you around the apartment. And I might be coming by here because I feel a tad bit remorseful for treating you like complete shit the night Maggie was admitted to the hospital.”
I nod. “Yeah. You were quite the asshole that night.”
“I know.” He laughs. “Don’t worry, Ridge hasn’t let me forget it.”
Ridge.
God, even hearing his name hurts.
Warren realizes his slip-up when he sees the change in my expression. “Shit. Sorry.”
I press my palms into the couch and stand up, wanting to escape the awkwardness of our conversation. It’s really not a subject I need to be talking about, anyway.
“Well, are you hungry?” I ask as I head to the kitchen. “I just spent hours slaving over the stove to make these tacos, so you’d better eat one.”
Warren laughs, walks into the kitchen with me, and takes one of the tacos. I unwrap one and lean against the bar, but before I even bring it to my mouth, I become too nauseated to eat. In all honesty, I haven’t slept or eaten very much in the six days since I moved out. I hate knowing that I had a part in causing so much hurt in another person. Maggie didn’t do anything to deserve how we made her feel. It’s also hard as hell not knowing how things have turned out between the two of them. I haven’t asked Warren about it for obvious reasons, because whatever the outcome, it wouldn’t change things. But now it feels as if I have this huge, gaping hole in my chest from the constant curiosity. As much as I’ve wished for the last three months that Ridge didn’t have a girlfriend, it’s nothing compared to how much I’ve hoped she could forgive him.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I glance up at Warren, who’s leaning against the counter, watching me think. I shrug my shoulders and set my uneaten food aside, then hug myself and stare down at my feet, afraid that if I look directly at him, he’ll know what I’m thinking.
“Look,” he says, dipping his head to try to get me to look him in the eye. “I know you haven’t asked about him because you know as well as I do how much you need to move on. But if you have questions, I’ll answer
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