Maybe Someday(111)

I immediately break away from him and walk

swiftly toward my bedroom. I want to lock my-

self inside until he leaves. I don’t want him to see

what this does to me. I don’t want him to see that

I love him the same way he loves Maggie.

I reach my bedroom and swing open the door.

I rush inside and begin to shut the door behind

me, but he pushes the door open. He steps into

my bedroom and turns me around to face him.

His eyes are searching mine, desperately trying

to get across whatever it is he wishes he could

say. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to

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speak, but then he closes it again. He releases my

arms, then turns around and runs his hands

through his hair. He grips the back of his neck,

then kicks my bedroom door shut with a frus-

trated groan. He leans his forearm into the door

and presses his forehead against it. I do nothing

but stand still and watch him try to fight the war

within himself. The same war I’ve been fighting.

He remains in the same position while he lifts

his phone and responds to my text.

Ridge: That’s not a fair question.

Me: Yeah, well, you didn’t really put me in

a fair situation by showing up here

tonight.

He turns until his back is flat against my bed-

room door. He brings two frustrated hands to his

forehead, then lifts his leg at the knee and kicks

the door behind him. Seeing him struggle with

who he really wants is more pain than I’m will-

ing to endure. I deserve more than he can give

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me right now, and his conflict is screwing with

my heart. Screwing with my head. Everything

with him is just too much.

Me: I want you to leave. I can’t be around

you anymore. It terrifies me that you’re

wishing I were her.

He hangs his head and stares at the floor for

several moments while I continue to stare at him.

He isn’t denying that he’d rather be with Maggie

right now. He isn’t making excuses or telling me

he could love me more than he loves her.

He’s completely quiet . . . because he knows

I’m right.

Me: I need you to leave. Please. And if

you really care about me, you won’t come

back.

He slowly turns and faces me. His eyes lock

with mine, and I’ve never seen more emotions

flash through them than in this moment.

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“No,” he says firmly.

He begins walking toward me, and I begin

backing away from him. He’s shaking his head

pleadingly. He reaches me just as my legs meet

my bed, and then he grabs my face between his

hands and presses his lips to mine.

I shake my head and push against his chest. He

steps away from me and winces, looking even

more frustrated with his inability to communicate

with me. His eyes search the room for whatever

will help him convince me I’m wrong, but I

know nothing can help our situation. He just

needs to realize this, too.

He looks down at my bed, then back at me. He

grabs my hand and pulls me around to the side of

the bed. He places his hands on my shoulders and

pushes me down until I’m seated. I have no idea

what he’s doing, so I don’t resist.

Yet.

He continues to lower me until I’m lying with

my back flat on the bed. He stands straight up

and removes his T-shirt. Before he even has it

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completely over his head, I’m already attempting

to roll off the bed. If he thinks sex will fix our

situation, he’s not as smart as I thought he was.

“No,” he says again when he sees me trying to

escape.

The sheer conviction in his voice causes me to

freeze, and I fall back against my mattress again.

He kneels down on the bed, grabs a pillow, and

lays it beside my head. He lies down next to me,

and my whole body tenses from his close prox-

imity. He picks up his phone.

Ridge: Listen to me, Sydney.

I stare at the text in anticipation of what he’ll

type next. When I notice that he’s not even tex-

ting me a follow-up, I look at him. He shakes his

head and pulls my phone from my hands, then

tosses it beside him. He takes my hand and places

it over his heart.

“Here,” he says, patting my hand. “Listen to

me here.”

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My chest tightens when I realize what he

wants me to do. He pulls me to him, and I will-

ingly allow it. He gently lowers my head to his

heart as he adjusts himself beneath me and helps

me get comfortable.

I relax against his chest, finding the rhythm of

his heartbeat.

Beat, beat, pause.

Beat, beat, pause.

Beat, beat, pause.

It’s absolutely beautiful.

The way it sounds is beautiful.