Maybe Someday(100)

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 ty-

ing 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, 549/692

I’m scared I’ll just keep holding you back. Hold-

ing 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 an-

other 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, be-

cause 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?

550/692

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, com-

pletely 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 fic-

tionalized 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, count-

ing random things that make absolutely no sense

to even be counting.

552/692

One: the number of people constantly on my

mind. (Ridge . )

Two: the number of people I wish would con-

tract 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 the 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 kit-

chen counter, then walks to the sofa and plops

down.

553/692

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.”