Maybe Someday(97)

How could I be when I’m in love with Maggie? It

shouldn’t be possible for the heart to love more

than one person at once.

She diverts her eyes away and scoots off my

lap. She stands and slowly walks the length of the

living room and back. She’s thinking, so I give

her a moment. I know my answer has hurt her,

but I know a lie would have hurt her even more.

She finally turns to me.

“I can spend all night asking you really brutal

questions, Ridge. I don’t want to do that. I’ve had

a lot of time to think this through, and I have a lot I need to say to you.”

“If brutal questions will help you, then ask me

brutal questions. Please. We’ve been together

five years, and I can’t let this tear us apart.”

She shakes her head, then takes a seat on the

couch opposite me. “I don’t need to ask the ques-

tions, because I already know all the answers. I

just need to talk to you now about where we go

from here.”

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I lean forward, not liking where this is going. I

don’t like it at all. “At least, allow me to explain

myself. You can’t come to a decision about what

happens to us without hearing me out first.”

She shakes her head again, and my heart

clenches. “I already know, Ridge. I know you. I

know your heart. I’ve read your conversations

with Sydney. I already know what you’re going

to tell me. You’re going to tell me how much you

love me. How you would do anything for me.

You’re going to apologize for developing feel-

ings for another girl, despite how hard you tried

to prevent that from happening. You’re going to

tell me you love me so much more than I know

and how your relationship with me is so much

more important to you than your feelings for

Sydney. You’re going to tell me you’ll do any-

thing to make it up to me and that I just need to

give you a chance. You’re probably going to be

brutally honest with me, also, and tell me that

you do have feelings for Sydney but they don’t

compare to how you feel about me.”

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She stands and moves to sit next to me on the

couch. There are traces of tears in her eyes, but

she isn’t crying anymore. She faces me and be-

gins signing again.

“And you know what, Ridge? I believe you.

And I understand all of it. I do. I’ve read your

conversations. It’s as if I was right there, sifting

through it all while the two of you were attempt-

ing to fight whatever was developing between

you. I keep telling myself to quit logging back in-

to your account, but I can’t stop. I’ve read those

conversations a million times. I deciphered every

word, every sentence, every punctuation mark. I

wanted to find the spot in your conversations that

proved your disloyalty to me. I wanted to find the

moment in your conversations where you became

this despicable excuse for a man by admitting

that what you felt for her was purely sexual. God,

Ridge. I wanted to find that moment so bad, but I

couldn’t. I know you kissed her, but even the kiss

seemed excusable after the two of you had that

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open discussion about it. I’m your girlfriend, and

even I began to excuse it.

“I’m not saying what you did is readily forgiv-

able, by any means. You should have asked her

to move out the second you felt compelled to kiss

her. Hell, you shouldn’t have ever asked her to

move in if there was even the slightest possibility

that you were attracted to her. What you did was

wrong in every sense of the word, but what’s so

messed up is that I feel like I understand it.

Maybe it’s because I know you too well, but the

fact that you’re falling in love with Sydney is ob-

vious, and I can’t just sit back and share your

heart with her, Ridge. I can’t do it.”

No, no, no, no, no. I quickly pull her to me,

wanting the comfort of her to subdue the panic

building within me.

She can be heartbroken. She can even be

pissed or terrified, but the one thing I won’t let

her be is okay. She can’t just be okay with this.

Tears begin to sting my eyes as I hold her as if

my embrace is somehow supposed to convince

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her of how I feel. I’m shaking my head no, trying

to get her not to take this conversation where I’m

afraid it’s headed.

I press my lips against hers in an attempt to

make it all go away. I hold her face in the palms

of my hands and try desperately to show her how

I feel without having to pull apart from her again.

Her lips part, and I kiss her, something I’ve

done on a regular basis for more than five years