Maybe Someday

Chapter Twelve

Sydney

I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to go

to class. I definitely don’t want to go job hunting

again. I don’t want to do anything but keep this

pillow pulled over my eyes, because it’s creating

a nice barrier between myself and every mirror in

this apartment.

I don’t want to look in the mirror, because I’m

scared I’ll see myself for who I really am this

time. A girl with no morals or respect for other

people’s relationships.

I can’t believe I kissed him last night.

I can’t believe he kissed me.

I can’t believe I broke into tears the second he

pulled away from me and I saw the look on his

face. I didn’t think it was possible to cram so

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much regret and sorrow into one expression. See-

ing how much he regretted being in that moment

with me was one of the biggest blows my heart

has ever taken. It hurt worse than what Hunter

did to me. It hurt worse than what Tori did to me.

But as much as it hurt seeing the regret on his

face, it was nothing compared to the guilt and

shame I felt when I thought of what I had done to

Maggie. What he had done to Maggie.

I knew the moment he put his hand on my

chest and moved closer to me that I should have

flown off the bed and made him leave the room.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The closer he moved and the longer we stared

at each other, the more my body was consumed

by need. It wasn’t a basic need, like a need for

water when I’m thirsty or a need for food when

I’m hungry. It was an insatiable need for relief.

Relief from the want and desire that had been

pent up for so long.

I never realized how powerful desire could be.

It consumes every part of you, enhancing your

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senses by a million. When you’re in the moment,

it enhances your sense of sight, and all you can

do is focus on the person in front of you. It en-

hances your sense of smell, and suddenly, you’re

aware of the fact that his hair has just been

washed and his shirt is fresh out of the dryer. It

enhances your sense of touch and makes your

skin prickle and your fingertips tingle, and it

leaves you craving to be touched. It enhances your sense of taste, and your mouth becomes

hungry and wanting, and the only thing that can

satisfy it is the relief of another mouth in search

of the same.

But the sense my desire enhanced the most?

Hearing.

As soon as Ridge placed the headphones in my

ears and the music began to play, the hair on my

arms rose, chills erupted from my skin, and it felt

as if my heart rate slowly conformed to the beat

of the song.

As much as Ridge craved that sense, too, he

couldn’t experience it. In that moment, all of his

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other senses combined failed to make up for the

one sense he desired the most. He wanted to hear

me just as much as I wanted him to hear me.

What happened between us didn’t happen be-

cause we were weak. Ridge didn’t run his hand

up my jaw and around to the back of my head

simply because I was in front of him and he was

in the mood to make out. He didn’t press his

body against mine because he thinks I’m attract-

ive and knew it would feel good. He didn’t part

my lips with his because he enjoys kissing and

knew he wouldn’t get caught.

Despite how hard we tried to fight it, all of

those things happened between us because our

feelings for each other are becoming so much

stronger than our desire. Desire is easy to fight.

Especially when the only weapon desire pos-

sesses is attraction.

It’s not so easy when you’re trying to win a

war against the heart.

? ? ?

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The house has been quiet since I woke up more

than an hour ago. The more I lie here and allow

myself to think about what happened, the less I

want to face him. I know if we don’t get it over

with, the confrontation will only be harder the

longer we wait.

I reluctantly get dressed and head to the bath-

room to brush my teeth. His bedroom is quiet,

and he usually has late nights that result in late

mornings, so I decide to let him sleep. I’ll wait it

out in the living room. I hope Warren and Brid-

gette are either occupied with each other in a bed

somewhere or still asleep, because I don’t know

if I can take either of them this morning.

I open the door and walk into the living room.

I pause.

Turn around, Sydney. Turn around and go

back to your room.

Ridge is standing at the bar. However, it isn’t

the sight of Ridge that’s rendered me completely

immobile. It’s the girl he has his arms around.

It’s the girl he’s pressed against. It’s the girl he’s 330/692

looking directly at, as if she’s the only thing that

has, does, and will ever matter to him. It’s the

girl who planted herself between me and my

maybe someday.

Warren exits his bedroom and sees them stand-

ing together in the kitchen. “Hey, Maggie. I

thought you weren’t coming for a couple more

weeks.”

Maggie spins around at the sound of Warren’s

voice. Ridge’s eyes move from Maggie over to

me. His body tenses, and he stands up straighter,

putting a slight distance between the two of them.

I’m still immobile, or I’d be putting distance

between myself and all three of them.

“I’m about to leave,” Maggie says, and signs

simultaneously, facing Warren. Ridge steps away

from her, then quickly breaks his gaze from mine

and refocuses his attention on Maggie. “My

grandfather was admitted to the hospital yester-

day. I got here last night.” She turns and gives

Ridge a light peck on the lips, then heads for the

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front door. “It’s nothing serious, but I’m staying

with him until they release him tomorrow.”

“Oh, man. Sorry about that,” Warren says.

“But you’ll be here the weekend of my party,

right?”

Party?

Maggie nods and takes a step back toward

Ridge. She circles her arms around his neck, and

he wraps his arms around her waist—two simple

movements that completely shatter entire sec-

tions of my heart.

He rests his mouth against hers and closes his

eyes. He brings his hands to her face, then pulls

back and leans in again to kiss her on the tip of

her nose.

Ouch.

Maggie exits the apartment without ever hav-

ing noticed that I was standing here. Ridge closes

the door behind her, turns around, and brings his

eyes back to mine with an unreadable expression.

“What are we doing today?” Warren asks,

moving his head back and forth between Ridge

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and me. Neither of us breaks our stare to respond

to him. After several seconds, Ridge makes the

slightest movement with his eyes, motioning to-

ward his bedroom. He turns to Warren and signs

something, and I walk back to my room.

It’s amazing how many reminders I’ve had to

give my organs in the last three minutes that

should be basic, common knowledge.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Contract, expand.

Beat, beat, pause. Beat, beat, pause.

Inhale, exhale.

I walk to the bathroom and head for Ridge’s

bedroom. It was obvious he wants to talk, and I

still think confronting it now is better than wait-

ing. It’s definitely better than not confronting it at all.

The journey across the bathroom is only a few

feet and should take no longer than a few

seconds, but I somehow stretch it out for five

whole minutes. I place a nervous hand on his

doorknob, then open it and walk into his room.

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He’s walking in at the same time as I’m clos-

ing the door to the bathroom. We pause and stare

at each other. These staredowns are going to have

to end, because my heart can’t take much more.

We both walk to his bed, but I pause before

sitting down. I assume we’re about to do some

serious talking, so I hold up my finger and turn to

get my laptop out of my room.

He’s sitting on his bed with his laptop when I

return, so I sit, lean against the headboard, and

open mine. He hasn’t messaged me yet, so I type

something to him first.

Me: Are you okay?

I hit send, and after he reads my question, he

turns his face toward mine and appears slightly

puzzled. He turns back to his computer and be-

gins typing.

Ridge: In what sense?

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Me: All of them, I guess. I know it was

probably difficult seeing Maggie after what

happened between us, so I just wanted to

know if you were okay.

Ridge: I think I’m a little confused right

now. Are you not pissed at me?

Me: Should I be?

Ridge: Considering what happened last

night, I would say so.

Me: I have no more of a right to be mad

at you than you do to be mad at me. I’m

not saying I’m not upset, but how will be-

ing mad at you help us work through this?

He reads my message and expels a huge

breath, leaning his head back against the head-

board. He closes his eyes for a moment before

lifting his head and responding to me.

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Ridge: Maggie showed up last night an

hour after I got back to my room. I was

convinced you were going to barge in and

tell her what a jerk I am for kissing you.

Then, in the kitchen earlier, when I saw

you standing outside your door, I was

bracing myself.

Me: I would never tell her, Ridge.

Ridge: Thank you for that. So what now?

Me: I don’t know.

Ridge: Can we not do the thing where we

brush it under the rug and act like it never

happened, because I don’t think that’s go-

ing to work with us. I have a lot I need to

say, and I’m scared if I don’t say it right

now, I’ll never say it.

Me: I have a lot to say, too.

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Ridge: You first.

Me: No, you first.

Ridge: How about we go at the same

time? When we’re both finished typing,

we’ll hit send together.

Me: Deal.

I have no idea what he’s about to say to me,

but I don’t let it influence what I need to say to

him. I tell him exactly what I want him to know,

then I pause and wait for him to finish typing.

When he finally stops, we look at each other, and

he nods, and we both hit enter.

Me: I think what happened between us

happened for a lot of reasons. We’re obvi-

ously attracted to each other, we have a

lot in common, and under any other cir-

cumstance, I honestly believe we’d be

good for each other. I could see myself

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with you, Ridge. You’re smart, talented,

funny, compassionate, sincere, and a little

bit evil, which I like. ;) And last night—I

can’t even describe it. It is by far the most

I’ve ever felt while kissing someone. Al-

though the feelings aren’t all good.

There’s a lot of guilt mixed in there, too.

So as much as the thought of us being to-

gether makes sense, it also makes no

sense whatsoever. I can’t leave a relation-

ship with as much hurt as I did and expect

to find happiness within a few short

weeks. It’s too fast, and I still want to be

on

my

own,

no

matter

how

right

something might feel.

I don’t know where your head is, and hon-

estly, I’m scared to hit enter on this mes-

sage, because I want us to be on the

same page. I want us to work together to

try to push past whatever it is we’re feel-

ing so we can continue to make music and

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be friends and pull ridiculous pranks on

Warren. I’m not ready for that to end, but

if my being here is too hard or makes you

feel guilty when you’re with Maggie, I’ll

leave. Just say the word, and I’ll go. Well,

I guess you can’t really SAY the word. You

could TYPE the word, and I’ll go. (Sorry

for the lame joke at your expense, but

there’s just too much seriousness going

on right now.)

Ridge: First and foremost, I’m sorry. I’m

sorry I put you in that position. I’m sorry I

couldn’t be stronger in that moment. I’m

sorry I broke my promise to you about

never becoming a Hunter. But I’m mostly

sorry for leaving you crying on your bed

last night. Walking out and leaving that

whole situation unresolved was the worst

move I could have made.

I wanted to come back and talk to you,

but when I finally worked up the courage,

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Maggie showed up. If I knew she was

coming, I would have warned you. After

what I did to you last night and then see-

ing the look on your face when you saw

us together this morning, I knew it was

one of the most hurtful things I could

have done.

I have no idea what’s going through your

head, but I have to say this, Sydney. No

matter how I feel about you or how much

I think we could work, I will never, ever

leave her. I love her. I’ve loved her since

the moment I met her, and I’ll love her

until the moment I die.

But please don’t let that take away from

how I feel about you. I never thought it

was possible to have honest feelings for

more than one person, but you’ve con-

vinced me of how incredibly wrong I was.

I’m not going to lie to myself and say I

don’t care about you, and I’m definitely

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not going to lie to you. I just hope you

understand where I’m coming from and

that you will give us a chance to navigate

through this, because I believe we can. If

there are two people in this world capable

of figuring out how to be friends, it’s us.

We read through each other’s messages. I read

his more than once. I didn’t expect him to be so

forthcoming and honest, especially about the fact

that he cares about me. I never for one second ex-

pected him to contemplate leaving Maggie for

me. That would be the worst outcome of all of

this. If he left her and we attempted to build a re-

lationship from that, it would never work. The

entire relationship would be built on betrayal and

deceit, and those two things have never made and

will never make for a good foundation.

Ridge: Wow. I’m impressed with us. We’re

both so mature.

His comment makes me laugh.

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Me: Yes, we are.

Ridge: Sydney, I can’t tell you what your

message just did for me. Seriously. I feel

like the weight of all nine planets (be-

cause yes, Pluto will always be a planet to

me) has been crushing my chest since the

moment I walked away from you last

night. But knowing that you don’t hate me

and that you’re not mad and that you

aren’t concocting an evil revenge scheme

feels so damn good right now. Thank you

for that.

Me: Hold on. I never said I wasn’t con-

cocting an evil revenge scheme. ;) Also,

while we’re being so blunt, can I ask you

a question?

Ridge: What did I tell you about initiating

a question with whether or not you can

propose a question?

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Me: Oh, my God, I can’t believe I ever

kissed you. You’re so ANNOYING!

Ridge. LOL. What’s your question?

Me: I’m concerned. We obviously have an

issue with the fact that we’re attracted to

each other. How do we get past that? I

want to write music with you, but I also

know that the few moments we’ve had

that wouldn’t make Maggie very happy

have all been while we’re writing music. I

think I’m just too desirable when I’m be-

ing creative, and I want to know what I

need to do to lessen my attractiveness. If

that’s even possible.

Ridge: Keep up the egotism. It’s very un-

attractive, and if it continues, I won’t even

be able to look at you in a week’s time.

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Me: Deal. But what do I do about my at-

traction to YOU? Tell me some personal

flaws that I can engrave into my memory.

He laughs.

Ridge: I sleep so late on Sundays I don’t

even brush my teeth until Monday.

Me: That’s a start. I need a few more.

Ridge: Let’s see. Once, when Warren and

I were fifteen, I had a crush on a girl.

Warren didn’t know I liked her, and he

asked me if I would ask her out for him. I

did, and she agreed, because apparently,

she had a crush on Warren in return. I

told him she said no.

Me: Ridge! That’s terrible!

Ridge: I know. I need a flaw from you

now.

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Me: When I was eight, we went to Coney

Island. I wanted an ice cream, and my

parents wouldn’t buy me one because I

was wearing a new shirt that “June Cleav-

er” didn’t want me to get dirty. We were

walking by a trash can, and there was a

melted ice cream cone in it, so when my

parents turned around, I picked it up and

started eating it.

Ridge: Yeah, that’s pretty gross. But you

were only eight, so it really doesn’t count.

I need something more recent. High

school? College?

Me: Oh! One time in high school, I spent

the night at a girl’s house who I didn’t

know very well. We made out. I wasn’t in-

to it, and it was really gross, but I was

seventeen and curious.

Ridge: No. That does NOT count as a flaw,

Sydney. Jesus Christ, work with me here.

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Me: I like the smell of puppy breath.

Ridge: Better. I can’t hear my own farts,

so sometimes I’ll forget that other people

can hear them.

Me: Oh, my God. Yes, this is the type of

thing that definitely sheds a different light

on you. I think I’ll be good for a while.

Ridge: One more from you, and then I

think we’ll be equally repulsed.

Me: A few days ago, when I was getting

off the campus bus, I noticed Tori’s car

was gone. I used my extra key to let my-

self into her apartment, because I needed

a few things I had forgotten. Before I left,

I opened all her bottles of liquor and spit

in them.

Ridge: For real?

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I nod, because I’m too ashamed to type the

word yes.

He laughs.

Ridge: Okay. I think we’re good. Meet me

here at eight tonight, and we’ll see if we

can navigate through a song. If we need

to take breaks from the music every now

and then in order to replenish our repuls-

iveness with a few more flaws, just let me

know.

Me: Deal.

I close my laptop and begin to slide off the

bed, but he grabs my wrist. I turn around, and

he’s looking at me with a serious expression. He

leans over and grabs a pen, then picks up my

hand and writes: Thank you.

I press my lips together and nod. He releases

my hand, and I walk back to my room, attempt-

ing to ignore the fact that all the repulsive details 347/692

in the world couldn’t stop my heart from reacting

to that simple gesture. I look down at my chest.

Hey, heart. Are you listening? You and I are

officially at war.

Ridge

As soon as she’s out of my bedroom and the door

shuts behind her, I close my eyes and exhale.

I’m thankful that she isn’t angry. I’m thankful

that she isn’t vindictive. I’m thankful that she’s

reasonable.

I’m also thankful that she appears to have

more willpower than I do, because whenever I’m

around her, I’ve never felt so weak.

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