Maybe Someday(90)

room door. Our eyes are still locked, but when

my phone sounds off in my pocket, I jump,

quickly tearing my gaze from his. I hear his

phone vibrate in his pocket. The sudden interrup-

tion of both of our phones is only obvious to me

until he sees me opening my cell phone at the

same time as he pulls his out of his pocket. Our

eyes meet briefly, but the interruption of the out-

side world seems to have brought us both back to

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the reality of our situation. Back to the fact that

his heart belongs with someone else, and this is

still good-bye.

I watch as he reads his text first. I’m unable to

take my eyes off of him in order to read mine.

His expression quickly becomes tortured by

whatever words he’s reading, and he slowly

shakes his head.

He winces.

Until this very moment, I’d never seen a heart

break right before my eyes. Whatever he just

read has completely shattered him.

He doesn’t look at me again. In one swift

movement, he grips his phone tightly in his hand

as if it’s become an extension of him, and he

heads straight for the front door and swings it

open. I step out into the living room, watching

him in fear as I walk toward the front door. He

doesn’t even shut the door behind him as he takes

the stairs two at a time, jumping over the edge of

the railing to shave off another half a second in

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his frantic race to get to wherever it is he desper-

ately needs to be.

I look down at my phone and unlock the

screen. Maggie’s number shows as the last in-

coming text message. I open it and see that Ridge

and I were the only recipients. I read it carefully,

immediately recognizing the familiar string of

words she’s typed out to both of us.

Maggie: “Maggie showed up last night an

hour after I got back to my room. I was

convinced you were going to barge in and

tell her what a jerk I am for kissing you.”

I immediately walk to the couch and sit, no

longer able to support my body weight. Her

words knocked the breath out of me, sucked the

strength from my limbs, and robbed me of any

sense of dignity I thought I had left.

I try to recall the medium through which

Ridge’s words were initially typed.

His laptop.

Oh, no. Our messages.

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Maggie is reading our messages. No, no, no.

She won’t understand. She’ll only see the

words that’ll hurt. She won’t be able to see how

much Ridge has been fighting this for her.

Another text shows up from Maggie, and I

don’t want to read it. I don’t want to see our con-

versation through Maggie’s eyes.

Maggie: “I never thought it was possible

to have honest feelings for more than one

person, but you’ve convinced me of how

incredibly wrong I was.”

I turn my phone on silent and toss it onto the

couch beside me, then start crying into my hands.

How could I do this to her?

How could I do to her what was done to me,

knowing it’s the worst feeling in the world?

I’ve never in my life known this kind of

shame.

Several minutes pass, full of regrets, before I

realize the front door is still wide open. I leave

my phone on the couch and walk to the door to

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shut it, but my eyes are drawn to the cab pulled

up directly in front of our complex. Maggie is

stepping out, looking up at me as she closes the

door. I’m not at all prepared to see her, so I

quickly step back out of her sight to regain my

bearings. I don’t know if I should go hide in my

room or stay out here and try to explain Ridge’s

innocence in all of this.

But how would I do that? She obviously read

the conversations herself. She knows we kissed.

She knows he admitted having feelings for me.

As much as I can try to convince her that he did

everything he could not to feel that way, it

doesn’t excuse the fact that the guy she’s in love

with has openly admitted his feelings for

someone else. Nothing can excuse that, and I feel

like complete shit for being a part of it.

I’m still standing with the door open when she

makes it to the top of the stairs. She’s looking at

me with a stern expression. I know she’s more

than likely here for anything other than me, so I

take a step back and open the door wider. She

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looks down at her feet when she passes me, un-

able to continue the eye contact.

I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t be able to look at

me, either. In fact, if I were her, I’d be punching

me right now.

She heads to the kitchen counter, and she

drops Ridge’s laptop onto it without delicacy.