Maybe Someday(92)

things. She’s been gone for half an hour.”

Warren is signing everything I’m saying to

Ridge. When he finishes, Ridge runs a frustrated

hand through his hair, then takes a step toward

me. His eyes are angry and hurt, and he begins

signing with forceful movements of his hands.

His obvious anger makes me wince, but his dis-

appointment in me fills me with my own share of

anger.

“He wants to know how you could just let her

leave,” Warren says.

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I immediately stand up and look Ridge directly

in the eye. “What did you expect me to do,

Ridge? Lock her in the damn closet? You can’t

be mad at me for this! I’m not the one who failed

to delete messages I wouldn’t want someone else

to read!”

I don’t wait for Warren to finish signing for

Ridge. I walk to my bedroom and slam the door

behind me, then drop down onto my bed. Mo-

ments later, I hear the door to Ridge’s bedroom

slam shut, too. The sounds don’t stop there,

though. I hear things crashing against his bed-

room walls, one by one, as he takes his frustra-

tion out on any inanimate object in his path.

I don’t hear the knock through the sounds

coming from Ridge’s bedroom. My door opens,

and Warren slips inside. He shuts my bedroom

door, then leans his back against it. “What

happened?” he asks.

I turn my head to face the other direction. I

don’t want to answer him, and I don’t want to

look at him, because I know anything I say to

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him will only cause him to be disappointed in

Ridge and me. I don’t want him to be disappoin-

ted in Ridge.

“Are you okay?” His voice is closer now. He

sits down on the bed beside me and places a com-

forting hand on my back. The reassuring contact

from him causes me to break down again as I

bury my face in my arms. I feel as though I’m

drowning, but I have no fight left to even bother

coming up for air.

“You said something about messages to Ridge.

Did Maggie read something that upset her?”

I turn my head back over and look up at him.

“Go ask Ridge, Warren. It’s not my place to tell

you Maggie’s business.”

Warren purses his lips in a tight line, nodding

slowly while he thinks. “I kind of think it is your

place, though. Isn’t it? Does it not have

everything to do with you? And I can’t ask

Ridge. I’ve never seen him like this before, and

frankly, I’m a little terrified of him right now.

But I’m worried about Maggie, and I need you to

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tell me what happened so I can figure out if

there’s anything I can do to help.”

I close my eyes, wondering how I can answer

Warren’s question with a simplified response. I

open my eyes and look at him again. “Don’t be

angry with him, Warren. The only thing Ridge

has done wrong is fail to delete a few messages.”

Warren tilts his head and narrows his doubtful

eyes. “If that’s the only thing Ridge did wrong,

then why is Maggie avoiding him? Are you say-

ing that the messages she read weren’t wrong?

Whatever has been going on between the two of

you isn’t wrong?”

I don’t like the condescending undertone in his

voice. I sit up on the bed and scoot back, putting

space between the two of us as I respond. “The

fact that Ridge has been honest in his conversa-

tions with me is not something he did wrong. The

fact that he has feelings for me also isn’t wrong,

when you know exactly how much he’s fought

those feelings. People can’t control matters of the

heart, Warren. They can only control their

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actions, which is exactly what Ridge did. He lost

control once for ten seconds, but after that, every

single time temptation reared its ugly head, he

walked in the other direction. The only thing

Ridge has done wrong is fail to delete his mes-

sages, because by doing so, he failed to protect

Maggie. He failed to protect her from the harsh

truth that people don’t get to choose who they

fall in love with. They only get to choose who

they stay in love with.” I look up at the ceiling and blink back tears. “He was choosing to stay in

love with her, Warren. Why can’t she see that?

This will kill him so much more than it’s killing

her.”

I fall back onto the bed, and Warren remains

beside me, quiet and still. Several long moments

pass, and then he stands and slowly makes his

way to my bedroom door. “I owe you an apo-

logy,” he says.

“An apology for what?”

He drops his eyes to the floor and shifts his