Maybe Someday(99)

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so adamant that it didn’t matter to you, and I was

so desperate to believe you. We were both lying

to ourselves. I think my illness is the thing you

love the most about me.”

My breath catches in my throat. Those words

hurt me more than any words ever have. “Why

would you say something like that, Maggie?”

“I know it sounds absurd to you because you

don’t see it that way. It’s who you are. You’re

loyal. You love people to a fault. You want to

take care of everyone around you, including me,

Brennan, Warren . . . Sydney. It’s just who you

are, and seeing how Warren treated me back then

made you want to jump in and become my hero.

I’m not saying you don’t love me for me, because

I know you do. I just think you love me the

wrong way.”

I run my palm over my forehead and try to

squeeze the pain away. My head can’t take an-

other second of listening to how incredibly

wrong she is. “Maggie, stop. If you’re about to

use your illness as an excuse to leave me, I won’t

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listen to it. I can’t. You’re talking like you’re

about to just give up on us, and it’s scaring the

living hell out of me. I didn’t come here for you

to give up. I need you to fight with me. I need

you to fight for us.”

She tilts her head to the side, slowly shaking it

in disagreement. “I shouldn’t have to fight for us,

Ridge. I fight every goddamned day of my life

just to survive. I should be able to revel in us, but I can’t. I’m constantly living in fear that I’m going to upset you or make you angry because you

want so badly to form a protective bubble around

me. You don’t want me taking risks or doing

anything that causes me one iota of stress. You

don’t see the point in my going to college, since

we both know my fate. You don’t see the point in

me having a career, because you think it’s better

if I just let you take care of me while I take it

easy. You don’t understand my yearning to ex-

perience the things that give people that rush of

adrenaline. You get mad when I bring up the idea

of traveling, because you don’t think it’s safe for

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my health. You refuse to go on tour with your

brother, because you want to be the one to take

care of me when I get sick. You give up so much

of your life to make sure I’m not having to give

up any of mine, and sometimes it’s so

suffocating.”

Suffocating?

I’m suffocating?

I stand up and pace the room for several mo-

ments, attempting to breathe the air back into my

lungs that she’s repeatedly knocking out. After

I’m calm enough to respond, I return to the couch

and face her again.

“I’m not trying to suffocate you, Maggie. I just

want to protect you. We don’t have the luxury of

time like every other couple. Is it wrong that I

want to prolong what we have for as long as we

possibly can?”

“No, Ridge. It’s not wrong. I love that about

you so much, but I don’t love it for me. It always feels as though you’re trying to be my lifeguard. I

don’t need a lifeguard, Ridge. I need someone

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who is willing to watch me brave the ocean and

then dare me not to drown. But you wouldn’t be

able to let me near the ocean. It’s not your fault that you can’t give me that.”

I know it’s just an analogy, but she’s only us-

ing it to make excuses.

“You think that’s what you want,” I sign. “It’s

not. You can’t tell me you’d rather be with

someone who would allow you to risk the time

you have left than have someone who would do

whatever he could to prolong his life with you.”

She exhales. I can’t tell if she’s admitting I’m

right or if she’s frustrated because I’m wrong.

She looks me square in the eyes and leans for-

ward, then briefly presses her lips to mine. As

soon as I lift my hands to her face, she pulls back

again.

“I’ve known all my life that I could die at any

moment. You don’t know what that’s like, Ridge,

but I want you to try to put yourself in my shoes.

If you knew all your life that you were going to

die at any moment, would you be okay with just

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barely living? Or would you live as hard as you

could? Because you’re needing me to barely live,

Ridge. I can’t do that. When I die, I need to know

that I did everything I’ve ever wanted to do, and

I’ve seen everything I’ve ever wanted to see, and

I’ve loved everyone I’ve ever wanted to love. I

can’t just barely live anymore, and it’s not in