Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(60)

Maggie nods, and a sadness enters her eyes. I hate it. But I can’t do anything to change it. Things are how they’re supposed to be now, even if Maggie might sometimes feel regret for that.

“I wish life came with a handbook,” she says. “Seeing what you and Sydney have makes me realize what an idiot I am for pushing away a really great guy. I’m almost positive I ruined that chance for good.”

I shift in my seat with those words. I don’t even know what to say. Did she think coming here would open up an opportunity to get back together with me? If so, I’ve been treating this entire conversation as something it isn’t. “Maggie. I’m not—we’re not—ever getting back together.”

Maggie’s eyes narrow, and she gives me one of the looks she used to give me when I was being an idiot. “I’m not talking about you, Ridge.” She laughs. “I’m referring to my hot doctor-slash-skydiving instructor.”

I tilt my head, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. “Oh. Well. That was awkward.”

She starts to laugh again. She swings a finger back and forth between us. “You thought… When I said great guy… You immediately thought of yourself?” She’s laughing even harder now. I’m trying not to crack a smile, but I can’t help it. I love that she’s laughing, and I love even more that she’s talking about someone else.

This is good.

Maggie stands up. “Will Warren be here Saturday?”

I nod and stand as well. “Yeah, he should be. Why?”

“I want us all to sit down together and talk. I feel like we need to map out a plan going forward.”

“Yeah. Of course. I’d love it if we could do that. Do you mind if Sydney comes?”

Maggie puts on her jacket. “She already has it on her schedule,” Maggie says, winking at me.

Okay, now I’m confused. “You’ve talked to Sydney?”

Maggie nods. “For some reason, she felt like she owed me an apology. And…I owed her one. We had a good chat.” Maggie walks toward the door, but pauses before opening it. “She’s very…diplomatic.”

I nod, but I’m still confused about when they had this chat. Or why I didn’t know about it. “Yeah,” I say. “She is definitely diplomatic.”

Maggie opens the door. “Don’t let Bridgette ruin her,” she says. “See you Saturday.”

“See you Saturday.” I hold the door open for her. “And Maggie. I’m really sorry about your grandfather.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

I watch as she walks down the stairs to her car. Once she pulls away, I don’t close my door. I rush to my counter and grab my keys, then slip on my shoes.

I drive straight to the library.

???

I spot her in the back corner of the library. She’s next to a cart, holding a marker in her hand, crossing things out on a list as she restocks the shelves from her library cart. Her back is to me, so I watch her for an entire minute as she works. The place is mostly empty, so I don’t feel like anyone will notice that I’m staring at her. I just can’t understand when or how she and Maggie would have had a conversation. Or why. I pull out my phone and I text her.



Ridge: You and Maggie had a conversation and you didn’t tell me?



I watch her reaction as she reads the text. She freezes, staring down at the phone, and then she rubs her forehead. She leans against the library shelf and inhales a deep breath.



Sydney: Yes. I should have told you. I just wanted the two of you to have the chance to speak before I brought it up, but I drove to her house on Sunday. Not to start drama, I swear. I just had some things I needed to say to her. I’m sorry, Ridge.



I look back up at her, and everything about her is on edge now. She’s worried, rubbing the back of her neck now, refusing to pull her eyes away from her phone until I text her back.

I hold up my phone and snap a picture of her, then text it to her. It takes a moment for the picture to come through on her end, but as soon as it does, she spins around. Our eyes lock.

I shake my head, just barely, but not because I’m upset with her in any way, shape, or form. I shake my head in slight disbelief that this woman would take it upon herself to drive to my ex-girlfriend’s house because she wanted to make things better between us.

I have never felt this amount of appreciation for anyone or anything in my entire life.

I begin to walk toward her. She pushes off the bookshelf when I get closer and she stands, stiff, anticipating my next move. When I reach her, I don’t say or sign a single word. I don’t have to. She knows exactly what I’m thinking, because with Sydney, all she has to do is be near me for us to communicate. She looks up at me and I look down at her, and as if we’re in perfect sync, she takes two steps back and I take two steps forward, so that we’re hidden between two walls of books.

I love you.

I don’t say or sign those words. I only feel them, but she hears it.

I lift my hands and run the backs of my fingers down her cheeks. I try to touch her with the same softness that she uses to touch me. I run my thumbs over her lips, admiring her mouth and every gentle word that comes out of it. I slide my hands down to her neck and press my thumbs against her throat. I can feel her rapid pulse beneath my fingertips.