Maybe Someday (Maybe #1)(91)

However, I feel as if I’m already there. Maybe it’s easier for me because I know where Maggie and I stand, and I know where my heart stands, but Sydney doesn’t have that reassurance. If time will give her that reassurance, then I’ll give her time. Just not too much. March 18 is only three months away. I hope to hell she’s ready by then, because I’m not sure I can keep myself away from her for longer than that.

I scoot my chair to the edge of the balcony and fold my arms over the railing, then look over at her old balcony. Every time I come out here and see her empty chair, it makes all of this so much harder. But I can’t seem to find anything inside my apartment that reminds me of her anymore. She left nothing when she moved, and she really never had anything while she was here. Being outside on this balcony is the closest I can come to feeling her since it seems we’re so far apart.

I lean back in my chair, pick up a pen, and begin writing the lyrics to another song, with nothing but her on my mind.

The cool air running through my hair

Nights like these, doesn’t seem fair

For you and I to be so far away

The stars all shimmer like a melody

Like they’re playing for you and me

But only I can hear their sounds.





I pick up my guitar and work through the first few chords. I want these songs to be enough to convince her that we’re ready, so every single thing has to be perfect. I’m just nervous that I’m relying too much on Warren to help make it happen. I hope he’s more reliable in this situation with Sydney than he is with his rent checks.





Chapter Twenty Five


Sydney

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are,” Warren says, kicking my legs off the coffee table. “I’m bored out of my mind. Bridgette works all weekend, and Ridge is off doing God knows what with God knows who.”

I immediately look up at him with my heart caught in my throat.

He laughs. “That got your attention.” He reaches forward, grabs my hands, and pulls me off the couch. “I’m kidding. Ridge is at home working, being a mopey little shit, just like you’re trying to be. Now, go get pretty and come out with me tonight, or I’ll sit on the couch with you and force you to watch porn.”

I pull my hands from his and walk to the kitchen. I open a cabinet, then grab a cup. “I don’t want to go out tonight, Warren. I had class all day, and it’s my only night off from the library. I’m sure you can find someone else to go with you.” I grab a container of juice from the refrigerator and fill my glass. Leaning against the counter, I take a sip as I watch Warren pout in my living room. He’s kind of adorable when he pouts, which is why I always give him such a hard time.

“Listen up, Syd,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. He grabs a bar stool and pulls it out, then takes a seat. “I’m about to lay things out for you, okay?”

I roll my eyes. “I doubt I can stop you, so go ahead.”

He lays his palms flat on the counter in front of him and leans forward. “You suck.”

I laugh. “That’s it? That’s what you needed to lay out for me?”

He nods. “You suck. So does Ridge. Since the night I gave him your address, you’ve both sucked. All he does is work or write music. He doesn’t even play pranks on me anymore. Every time I’m over here, you’re just focused on studying. You never want to go out. You never want to hear my sex stories anymore.”

“Correction,” I say, interrupting him. “I’ve never wanted to hear your sex stories. That’s nothing new.”

“Whatever,” he says, shaking his head. “My point is that the two of you are miserable. I know you need time and blah, blah, blah, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up fun while you’re figuring your life out. I want to go have fun. No one wants to have fun with me anymore, and that’s all your fault, because you’re the only one who can put a stop to the misery you and Ridge are going through. So, yes. You suck. You suck, you suck, you suck. And if you want to stop sucking so much, then go get dressed so we can go out and not suck together for just a few hours.”

I don’t know how to argue with that. I do suck. I suck, I suck, I suck. Only Warren could put it in such a simple, straightforward way that would actually make sense. I know I’ve been miserable the past few months, and it doesn’t help to know that Ridge has been miserable, too. He’s miserable because he’s sitting around waiting for me to get over whatever it is that’s keeping me from contacting him.

The last thing he said in his letter to me was Just say when.

I’ve been trying to say when since the moment I read that letter, but I’m just too scared. I’ve never felt about anyone or anything the way I feel about him, and the thought of our not working out is enough to keep me from saying that one little word. I feel as if the longer we wait and the more time we have to heal, the better chance we’ll have at our maybe someday.

I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that he’s moved on from Maggie. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that he’s ready to commit fully to me. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that I’m not going to be consumed with guilt for allowing myself to trust someone with my heart again.

I don’t know when I’ll get to that point, and it hurts to know that my inability to move forward is holding Ridge back.