Maybe Someday(55)
He was telling me then that lyrics have truth
behind them, because they come from some-
where inside the person who wrote them. I look
back down at the page.
For her I bend, for you I break
Oh, my God, I can’t. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t
want this.
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But it feels so good. His words feel good, his
closeness feels good, his eyes searching mine
make my heart go haywire, and for the life of me,
I can’t figure out how something that feels like
this can be so wrong.
I’m not a bad person.
Ridge isn’t a bad person.
How can two good people who both have such
good intentions end up with feelings, derived
from all the goodness, that are so incredibly bad?
Ridge’s expression grows more concerned, and
he pulls his gaze away from mine and picks up
his phone.
Ridge: Are you okay?
Ha. Am I okay? Yeah. That’s why my palms
are sweating and my chest is heaving and I’m
clenching the sheet beside me on the bed so I
don’t do something to him with these hands that
I’ll never forgive myself for.
I nod, then gently push him aside as I stand up
and walk to the bathroom. I shut the door behind
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me and lean against it, closing my eyes and si-
lently repeating the mantra in my head that I’ve
been repeating for weeks now.
Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.
Ridge
After several minutes, she finally walks back into
her bedroom. She smiles at me, walks to the bed,
and picks up her phone.
Sydney: Sorry. I felt sick.
Me: You okay?
Sydney: Yeah. Just needed water, I
guess. I love the lyrics, Ridge. They’re
perfect. Do we need to run through them
again, or can we call it a night?
I really would like to run through them again,
but she looks tired. I’d also give anything to feel
her sing them again, but I’m not sure that’s a
good idea. I already beat up my conscience
enough while I was writing the rest of the lyrics
down. However, the fact that I was more than
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likely writing about her didn’t seem to stop me,
because the only thing on my mind was the
simple fact that I was actually writing. I haven’t been able to write lyrics in months, and in just a
matter of minutes, it was as if a fog lifted and the
words began to flow effortlessly. I would have
kept going if I didn’t feel I’d already gone way
too far.
Me: We’ll call it a night. I’m really happy
with this one, Syd.
She smiles, and I pick up my guitar and head
to my room.
I spend the next several minutes transferring
her lyrics into the music program on my laptop,
and filling in the guitar chords. Once it’s all
entered, I hit send, close it out, and text Brennan.
Me: Just sent you a very rough draft with
lyrics. I really want Sydney to hear this
one, so if you have time this week to work
up a rough acoustic, send it over. I think
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it’ll be good for her to finally be able to
hear something she created come to life.
Brennan: Looking at it now. I hate to ad-
mit this, but I think you were right about
her. She really was sent to earth just for
us.
Me: Starting to seem that way.
Brennan: Give me an hour. Not busy, so
I’ll see what we can work up.
An hour? He’s sending it tonight? I immedi-
ately text Sydney.
Me: Try not to fall asleep. I might have a
little surprise for you after a while.
Sydney: Um, . . . okay?
? ? ?
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Forty-five minutes later, I get an e-mail with an
attachment from Brennan that says, Rough cut,
Maybe Someday. I open it on my phone, find a set of earbuds in the kitchen drawer, and head to
Sydney’s room. She opens the door after I knock
and lets me into her room. I walk over to sit on
her bed and motion to the spot on the mattress
beside me. She looks at me questioningly but
walks to the bed. I hand her the earbuds and pat
her pillow, so she lies down and places them in
her ears. She continues to watch me warily, as if
I’m about to pull an elaborate prank on her.
I scoot down next to her and prop myself up on
my elbow, then hit play. I set the phone down
between us and watch her.
A few seconds pass, and her head swings in
my direction. An “Oh, my God” passes her lips,
and she’s looking at me as if I’ve just given her
the world.
And it feels pretty damn good.
She smiles and puts her hand over her mouth
as her eyes fill with tears. She tilts her face back
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up to the ceiling, more than likely because she’s
embarrassed by her emotional reaction. She
Colleen Hoover's Books
- Where Shadows Meet
- Destiny Mine (Tormentor Mine #3)
- A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)
- Save the Date
- Part-Time Lover (Part-Time Lover #1)
- My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)
- Getting Schooled (Getting Some #1)
- Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)
- Speakeasy (True North #5)
- The Good Luck Sister (Wildstone #1.5)