Maybe Someday(105)

I don’t know why I’m trying to hide my reac-

tion from him, but isn’t that what people do? We

try so hard to hide everything we’re really feeling

from those who probably need to know our true

feelings the most. People try to bottle up their

emotions, as if it’s somehow wrong to have nat-

ural reactions to life.

My natural reaction in this moment is to turn

and hug him, regardless of the reason he’s here.

My arms want to be around him, my face wants

to be pressed against his chest, my back wants to

be cradled by him—yet I’m standing here trying

to pretend that’s the last thing I need from him.

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Why?

I inhale a calming breath, then turn around

when I hear him close the front door behind him.

I lift my eyes to meet his, and he’s standing sev-

eral feet in front of me, watching me. I can tell by

the tightness in his expression that he’s doing ex-

actly what I’m doing. He’s holding back

everything he’s feeling for the sake of . . . what?

Pride?

Fear?

The one thing I’ve always admired about my

relationship with Ridge is that we’re so honest

and real with each other. I’ve always been able to

say exactly what I was thinking, and so has he. I

don’t like this shift we’ve made.

I try to smile at him, but I’m not sure if my

smile is working right now. I speak to him and

enunciate clearly so he can read my lips. “Are

you here because you need a flaw?”

He laughs and exhales at the same time, re-

lieved that I’m not angry.

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I’m not angry. I’ve never been mad at him.

The decisions he’s made during the time he’s

known me aren’t decisions I can hold against

him. The only thing I hold against him is the

night he kissed me and ruined me for every other

kiss I’ll ever experience.

I take a seat on the couch and look up at him.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He sighs, and I quickly look away. It’s hard

enough being in the same room as him right now,

but even harder to make eye contact with him. He

completes the walk into the living room and sits

on the couch next to me.

I debated buying more furniture, but one couch

was all I could afford. A love seat at that. I’m not

so sure I’m sad about my lack of furniture,

though, because his leg is touching my thigh, and

the simple contact causes heat to roll through me

like a riptide. I look down at our knees when they

brush together and realize I’m still wearing the T-

shirt I threw on right before I went to bed. I guess

I was so shocked by the fact that he said he was

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at my apartment door that I didn’t concern myself

with how I looked. I’m in nothing but an over-

sized cotton T-shirt that falls to my knees, and

my hair is more than likely a wreck.

He’s in jeans and a gray Sounds of Cedar T-

shirt. I would say I feel underdressed, but I’m ac-

tually dressed appropriately for what I was doing

before he showed up, which was going to bed.

Ridge: I don’t know if I’m okay. Are you

okay?

I forgot I even asked him a question for a

second.

I shrug. I’m sure I will be fine, but I’m not go-

ing to lie and tell him I am. I think it’s obvious

that neither one of us can really be okay with

how everything has turned out. I’m not okay with

losing Ridge, and Ridge isn’t okay with losing

Maggie.

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Me: I’m sorry about Maggie. I feel awful.

She’ll come around, though. Five years is

a lot to give up for a misunderstanding.

I hit send and finally look up at him. He reads

the text, then eyes me. The concentration in his

expression makes the breath catch in my lungs.

Ridge: It wasn’t a misunderstanding,

Sydney. She understood a little too well.

I read his text several times, wishing he would

expand on it. What wasn’t a misunderstanding?

The reason they broke up? His feelings for me?

Rather than ask him what he means, I cut to the

question I want the answer to the most.

Me: Why are you here?

He works his jaw back and forth before

responding.

Ridge: Do you want me to leave?

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I look at him and slowly shake my head no.

Then I pause and shake my head yes. Then I

pause again and just shrug. He smiles endear-

ingly, completely understanding my confusion.

Me: I guess whether or not I want you

here depends on why you’re here. Are you

here because you need me to try to help

you win back Maggie? Are you here be-

cause you miss me? Are you here because

you want to try to work out some sort of