Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(58)

Ridge: I see nothing has changed. I’m still the prank master.

Sydney: Says the guy who’s experiencing a bad case of pranker’s block.

Ridge: Touché. Hey, do you get a lunch break tonight?

Sydney: Just took it at six. :/

Ridge: Dammit. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. You want me to come to your place?

Sydney: Yes, please. I want you all to myself for the night.

Ridge: Then I am yours. I love you. See you tomorrow.

Sydney: Love you.



I close out our texts and open up the missed text from Bridgette I just received while I was saying goodbye to Sydney. Bridgette never texts me unless it’s to tell me something in the apartment is broken. Not this time, though. Her text simply says, Someone is at the door, like she’s too busy to get up and answer it. She never does answer the door, though. I wonder if that’s because she doesn’t really feel like this is her apartment.

I walk to my closet and grab a T-shirt, pulling it over my head as I make my way to the front door. I look through the peephole while my hand is turning the doorknob, but I stop turning it as soon as I recognize Maggie. She’s standing in front of the door, hugging herself as the wind whips her hair around.

The next few seconds are a little bizarre for me. I watch her for a moment, wondering what she wants, but not wondering enough to open the door in a hurry. I turn around and face the living room, needing a second to focus on my next move. This is the first time she’s shown up at my apartment as something other than my girlfriend. I’ve never opened the door for her and not immediately kissed her. I’ve never opened the door for her without pulling her to my bedroom. I have no desire to do either of those things, nor do I feel a loss because it’s no longer our routine. I just feel…different.

I turn and open the door, just as she gives up and walks toward the apartment stairs. She glances up at me and pauses her foot over the first step, then slowly turns around and faces me. Her expression is calm. She isn’t looking at me like she can’t stand me—like she was looking at me this past weekend. She lifts her hand and pushes her hair from her face, waiting for me to invite her in. There’s an air of humility about her as she glances down at her feet for a few seconds. When our eyes meet again, I step back and hold the door open. She stares at her feet as she walks into the apartment.

I slide my phone out of my pocket as Maggie stands in the middle of the living room. I don’t want this becoming anything it isn’t, so I text Sydney.



Ridge: Maggie just showed up unannounced. Not sure what she’s here for yet, but I wanted you to know.



I slide my phone back into my pocket and look up at Maggie. She motions to the refrigerator and asks if she can grab something to drink. It’s odd, because she would have never asked before. She would have just grabbed a drink. I nod and say, “Of course.”

She walks to the refrigerator and opens the door, but she just stares inside blankly for a moment. That’s when I realize I don’t have any Dr. Pepper for her. I used to keep the refrigerator stocked with Dr. Pepper for whenever she showed up, but it’s been months since she’s been here. I stopped buying Dr. Pepper after we broke up. It was odd at first, not grabbing the usual 12-pack I used to get every time I went grocery shopping, but I don’t even think about it anymore. Now I just make sure I have water and tea.

She grabs two waters and hands me one of them. “Thank you,” I say.

She points to the kitchen table and signs, “Do you have a minute?”

I nod, but am very aware my phone hasn’t buzzed in my pocket. Either Sydney hasn’t read my text yet, or she’s upset that Maggie showed up here. I’m hoping it’s the former. I’m sure it is. Sydney is the most reasonable person I’ve ever met. Even if it upset her that Maggie showed up here, she would still text me back.

We’re both at the table now, me at the head of it and her in the chair to my right. She takes her jacket off and then folds her hands together in front of her, resting her elbows on the table. She’s staring down at them, inhaling a calming breath. Her eyes swing in my direction when she begins to sign. “I would have come by sooner, but my grandfather died two days ago. Sunday night.”

I immediately blow out a breath and grab her hand. I squeeze it, then pull her in for a hug. I feel like such an asshole right now. I knew he was sick. No matter how things were left between us Saturday morning, I should have checked in with her about her grandfather. He died two days ago and I had no idea. Why wouldn’t she at least tell Warren?

I pull back to ask her if she’s okay, but she answers the question before I’m even able to ask it. “I’m okay,” she signs. “You know it’s been expected for a while now. My aunt flew in from Tennessee and helped with the arrangements today. We decided against a service.”

Her eyes are red and a little puffy, like she’s already cried enough about it. “That’s not why I’m here, though. I was in Austin and wanted to stop by because…” She pauses to take a drink and to gather herself. It’s a big jump going from the death of her grandfather to another subject entirely. She seems a little jarred, so I give her a minute. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and then looks at me again. “I’m here because I have a lot to say, and I’d like the opportunity to get it all out before you interrupt me, okay? You know how hard it is for me to apologize.”