Maybe Someday(106)

friendship?

Ridge: Would I be wrong if I answered

none of the above? I don’t know why I’m

here. Part of me misses you so much it

hurts, while part of me wishes I never

even met you to begin with. I guess today

is one of the days I was hurting, so I stole

Warren’s keys and forced him to give me

your address. I didn’t think this through

or come up with any kind of speech. I just

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did what my heart needed me to do,

which was to see you.

His brutally honest reply melts my heart and

pisses me off all at the same time.

Me: What about tomorrow? What if to-

morrow is one of the days you wished you

never met me? What am I supposed to do

then?

The intensity in his stare is unnerving. Maybe

he’s trying to gauge if that was an angry re-

sponse. I’m not sure if it was or not. I’m not sure

how I feel about the fact that he doesn’t even

know why he’s here.

He doesn’t respond to my text, and it proves

one thing: he’s having the same internal conflict

with himself that I’ve been having.

He wants to be with me, but he doesn’t.

He wants to love me, but he doesn’t know if he

should.

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He wants to see me, but he knows he

shouldn’t.

He wants to kiss me, but it would hurt just as

much as it did the first time he kissed me and had

to walk away. I suddenly feel uncomfortable star-

ing at him. We’re way too close together on this

couch, yet my body is making it very clear to me

that it doesn’t think we’re close enough at all.

What it’s wishing would happen right now are all

the things that aren’t.

Ridge looks away and slowly scans my apart-

ment for a few moments, then returns his atten-

tion to his phone.

Ridge: I like your place. Good neighbor-

hood. Seems safe.

I almost laugh at his text and the casual con-

versation he’s trying to make, because I know

we’re no longer in a place for casual conversa-

tion. We can’t be friends at this point. We also

can’t be together with so much against us. Casual

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conversation has no place between us right now,

yet I can’t bring myself to reply any differently.

Me: I like it here. Thank you for helping

me out with the hotel until I could move

in.

Ridge: It was the least I could do. Abso-

lutely the least I could do.

Me: I’ll pay you back as soon as I get my

first paycheck. I got my job back at the

campus library, so it should only be an-

other week.

Ridge: Sydney, stop. I don’t even want

you to offer.

I have no idea what to say in response. This

whole situation is awkward and uncomfortable,

because we’re both dancing around all the things

we wish we had the courage to do and say.

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I set my phone facedown on the couch. I want

him to know that I need a break. I don’t like that

we aren’t being us.

He takes the hint and lays his phone down on

the armrest beside him, then sighs heavily as he

drops his head against the back of the couch. The

silence makes me wish I could experience the

world from his perspective for once. I find it al-

most impossible to put myself in his shoes,

though. People with the advantage of hearing

take so much for granted, and I’ve never under-

stood that to the extent that I understand it now.

There’s nothing being spoken between us, yet I

understand by his heavy sigh that he’s frustrated

with himself. I understand how much he’s hold-

ing back by the way his breaths are being sharply

pulled in.

I suppose his expertise in a silent world gives

him an ability to read people, just in different

ways. Instead of focusing on the sounds of my

breaths, he focuses on the rise and fall of my

chest. Rather than listening to quiet sighs, he

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more than likely watches my eyes, my hands, my

posture. Maybe that’s why his face is tilted to-

ward mine now, because he wants to see me and

get a feel for what’s going through my head.

I feel as if he reads me too well. The way he’s

watching me forces me to try to control every fa-

cial expression and every breath. I close my eyes

and lean my head back, knowing he’s staring,

trying to get a sense of where I am.

I also wish I could just turn to him and tell

him. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed

him. I want to tell him how much he means to

me. I want to tell him how horrible I feel, be-

cause before I showed up in his life, everything

seemed perfect for him. I want to tell him that

even though we both regretted it, that minute we