Maybe Now (Maybe #2) Page 10

  I walk over to her and take her face in my hands because I’m confused, too. She just squeezes her eyes shut when I press my forehead to hers. I don’t know how to handle this situation. I have so much to say to her, but texting isn’t fast enough, and I’m not sure I can speak everything I want to say or that everything I say would even be understandable to her. I pull away from her and grab her hand, then walk her back to the table.

  I motion for Warren to help us communicate if we need him. Sydney sits in her chair, and I scoot mine to where I’m right in front of her. “Are you okay?”

  She seems at a loss for how to answer that question. When she finally does, I can’t understand her, so Warren signs for me. “I’m trying, Ridge. I really am.”

  Just seeing the pain when she speaks makes her my only focus. I can’t leave her like this. I look at Warren. “Can you go by yourself?”

  He looks disappointed by my question. “You expect me to know what to do?” He tosses his hands up in frustration. “You can’t stop being there for her just because you have a new girlfriend. We’re all Maggie has, and you know it.”

  I’m just as frustrated by Warren’s answer as I am my own question. Of course I’m not going to stop being there for Maggie. But I don’t know how to be there for both her and Sydney right now. I didn’t really think ahead when Maggie and I split up. I doubt she thought ahead, either. But Warren is right. What kind of person would that make me if I just walked out on the girl who has depended solely on me for the past six years when it comes to her medical needs? Hell, I’m still her emergency contact. That shows how much of a support system she has in her life. And I can’t send Warren alone. He can’t even take care of himself, much less Maggie. I’m the only one who knows her medical needs. Her entire medical history. The medications she takes, the names of all her doctors, what to do in an emergency, how to operate her respiratory equipment at her house. Warren would be lost without me.

  As if Sydney’s thoughts are on the same track as mine, she speaks to Warren and he signs for me. “What do you normally do when this happens?”

  “Normally when this happens, Ridge goes. Sometimes we both go. But Ridge always goes. We help her get home, pick up her prescriptions, make sure she’s settled, she gets mad because she doesn’t think she needs any help, and after a day or two, she usually forces us to go back home. The same routine we’ve had since her grandfather could no longer care for her.”

  “Does she not have anyone else?” Sydney asks. “Parents? Siblings? Cousins? Aunts, uncles, friends? A really reliable mailman?”

  “She has relatives she doesn’t know very well who live out of state. None that would drive to pick her up at the hospital. And none that know anything at all about how to handle her medical condition. Not like Ridge does.”

  Sydney looks exasperated. “She really has no one else?”

  I shake my head. “She’s spent all her time focusing on college, her grandparents, and her boyfriend for six years. We are literally all she has.”

  Sydney absorbs my answer and then nods slowly, like she’s trying to be understanding. But I know it’s a lot to take in. She’s probably spent the last several months trying to convince herself that Maggie and I wouldn’t get back together. I doubt she’s even thought far enough ahead to realize that even though Maggie and I are no longer in a relationship, I’m still her primary caregiver when she’s not in the position to care for herself.

  I know she tolerates the occasional text messages, but because Maggie hasn’t had any episodes for the past several months, this part of mine and Maggie’s new friendship has yet to be navigated. I’ve been so focused on just getting Sydney to give me a chance, it hasn’t occurred to me until this second that Sydney might not be okay with that.

  The realization hits me with the weight of a thousand bricks. If Sydney isn’t okay with this, where does that leave us? Will I be able to walk away from Maggie completely, knowing she has no one else? Would Sydney actually put me in a position to choose between her happiness and Maggie’s health?

  My hands start to shake. I feel the pressure coming at me from all sides. I grab Sydney’s hand and lead her to my bedroom. When I close the door, I lean against it and pull her to my chest, squeezing her, scared to death that she’s about to put me in an unthinkable situation. And I wouldn’t blame her. Asking her to be supportive of such an unusual relationship with the girl I was in love with for years is basically asking her to be heroic.

  “I love you,” I say. It’s the only thing I have the strength to say right now. I feel her sign the words back to me against my chest. She clings to me and I cling to her, and then I feel her start to cry in my arms. I press my cheek to the top of her head and hold her, wanting to take away every ounce of ache she’s feeling in her heart right now. And I could. I could text Maggie right now and tell her it’s too much for Sydney and that I can’t be a part of her life anymore.

  But what kind of person would that make me? Could Sydney even love a guy who would completely cut someone out of his life like that?

  And if Sydney asked me to do it—if she asked me never to speak to Maggie again—what kind of person would that make her if her jealousy won out over human decency?

  She’s not that type of person. And neither am I. That’s why we’re both standing in the dark, wrapped around each other while she cries. Because we know what will eventually happen tonight. I’ll leave to take care of Maggie. And it won’t be the last time, because Maggie will likely need me until Maggie doesn’t need me anymore. And that’s a thought I don’t feel like processing right now.

  I know I’ve tried to do right by them, but I haven’t always been right. Part of me feels like this is karma. I’m being forced to hurt Sydney because I hurt Maggie. And hurting either of them hurts me.

  I lift her head from my chest and kiss her, holding her face in my hands. Her eyes are sad, and tears are staining her cheeks. I kiss her again and then say, “Come with me.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “It’s too soon for that. She wouldn’t want me there.”

  I brush her hair back and kiss her twice on the forehead. She backs up a step and reaches into her pocket for her phone. She types out a text, but my phone is still on the table, so she hands me hers so I can read her text.

  Sydney: If you go, I’m probably going to cry myself to sleep. But she’s in the hospital, Ridge. And she’s all alone. So if you don’t go, she’ll probably cry herself to sleep, too.

  I type out a text to her in return.

  Ridge: Your tears mean more to me, Sydney.

  Sydney: I know. And as much as this situation sucks and as much as it hurts, the fact that you’re torn right now because you don’t want to abandon her makes me think more of you than I already do. So go, Ridge. Please. I’ll be okay as long as you come back to me.

  I hand her back her phone and then run my hands through my hair. I turn away from her and face the door, squeezing the back of my neck. I try to hold it in, but in all my twenty-four years, I have never felt this depth of love from anyone. Not Maggie. Certainly not my parents. And as much as I love Brennan, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this depth of love from my own brother.

  Sydney Blake, without a doubt, loves me harder than I’ve ever been loved. She loves me more than I deserve, and in this moment, more than I can even handle.

  I wish there was a sign in ASL that could convey my need to hold her even more than a hug can, but there isn’t. So I turn and hug her and press my face into her hair. “I don’t deserve your compassion. Or your heart.”

  •••

  She helps me pack.

  I let the moment sink in and respect it for what it is. My new girlfriend is helping me pack so that I can go make sure my ex-girlfriend isn’t alone in the hospital tonight.

  The entire time Sydney is replenishing items in my duffel bag, I keep distracting her, pulling her to me, kissing her. I don’t think I’ve ever loved her more than I do in this moment. And even though I won�
�t be here tonight, I want her in my bed. I grab her phone and type out a message in the notes app.

  Ridge: You should stay here tonight. I want to smell you on my pillow tomorrow.

  Sydney: I planned on it. I still need to eat and then I’ll clean up the kitchen.

  Ridge: I can clean tomorrow. Eat, but leave the mess for me. Or maybe Bridgette will finally contribute.

  She rolls her eyes with a laugh after that message. We both know what a stretch it is. We walk into the living room, and Warren and Bridgette are still at the table. Warren is scarfing down his food with a backpack hanging on his chair. Bridgette is sitting across from him, staring at her phone. When she looks up, she seems a little shocked that Sydney and I are walking out of the bedroom together. I guess she wasn’t expecting this to end so amicably.

  “Ready?” Warren signs.

  I nod and walk to the table to grab my phone. Warren walks around the table to give Bridgette a kiss, but she turns her face so that he can only kiss her on the cheek. He rolls his eyes and stands up straight, grabbing his backpack as he walks away from the table.

  “Is she mad at you?” I sign.

  Warren looks confused. He looks back at Bridgette and then looks at me. “No. Why?”

  “She refused to kiss you goodbye.”

  He laughs. “That’s because she just fucked me goodbye.”

  I glance at Bridgette, who is still looking down at her phone. Then I look back at Warren. He smiles with a shrug. “We’re quick.”

  Bridgette looks up from her phone and glares at Warren. He rolls his eyes and starts backing away from me, toward the door. “I have to learn how to stop speaking out loud when I sign to you.” He glances at Sydney and gives her the onceover. “You okay with all this?” he asks.

  Sydney nods, but then both of them look at Bridgette. Bridgette begins speaking—which is unusual—so I look back at Warren, and he signs everything Bridgette is saying.

  “Take it from me, Sydney,” she says. “Some men come with heavy baggage, like five kids and three different baby mommas. But Ridge and Warren’s baggage is just an ex-girlfriend they sometimes have slumber parties with. Let them go play with their Barbie. We’ll stay here and get drunk and order pizza with Warren’s debit card. Ridge’s pasta sucked, anyway.”

  Wow.

  That’s the most Bridgette has ever spoken at one time. Sydney looks at me, wide-eyed. I’m not sure if she’s wide-eyed because Bridgette spoke so much or because she might have just invited Sydney to hang out with her. Either is unprecedented for Bridgette.

  “Must be a full moon,” Warren says. He walks to the front door and opens it. I look down at Sydney and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. I dip my head and press my mouth to hers.

  She kisses me back, pushing me toward the door. I tell her I love her three times before I’m finally able to close the door. And as soon as we get to Warren’s car, I pull out my phone and text her as we’re driving away.

  Ridge: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I. FUCKING. LOVE. YOU. SYDNEY.

  I am craving a Twix so bad right now. Dammit, Jake.

  I couldn’t hear the majority of his conversation with his son when he was out in the hallway earlier. I heard words here and there and could tell he was talking to a child, so when I heard the word “dad,” it all made sense.

  I suddenly understood why he seemed so alpha-male on the surface, but also somehow had an extremely adorable, romantic side to him. I knew he loved fast cars and extreme sports, but on our date, I couldn’t help but wonder what must have forced him to settle down and take his career seriously like he did.

  That something turned out to be Justice.

  I still don’t know why Jake made that Twix comment, but now the only things on my mind are the speed at which Jake rushed out of this hospital room…and Twix.

  I reach over to my nightstand and grab my phone. I don’t know which one of them is driving, so I open up a group text between the three of us.

  Maggie: I really need a Twix.

  Warren: A Twix? Like the candy bar?

  Maggie: Yes. And a Dr. Pepper, please.

  Ridge: Warren, stop texting and driving.

  Warren: It’s cool, I’m invincible.

  Ridge: But I’m not.

  Maggie: Are you guys almost here?

  Ridge: Five minutes away. We’ll stop at the store before we get there but we’re only getting you a Diet Dr. Pepper. You need to watch your blood sugar. Need anything else?

  Maggie: I think we’re way overdue for an AMA.

  Ridge: Nope. I don’t think so.

  Warren: Did someone say AMA? (And I’ll get you a Twix, Maggie.)

  Ridge: No.

  Warren: LET’S DO IT!!! Be out front in five minutes, Maggie!

  Ridge: Don’t, Maggie. We’ll be up there in five minutes.

  Warren: No, we’ll be out front in five minutes.

  I ignore Ridge’s concern and choose to side with Warren. I throw the covers off me, feeling the first flicker of happiness since Jake walked into this room. God, I’ve missed them so much. I look around the room to make sure I won’t be leaving anything behind. My doctor left about half an hour before Jake showed up, so I’m not due for another visit from her until morning. This is the perfect time to make my escape. I reach down to remove my IV, knowing exactly what Ridge is thinking right now.

  AMA is the acronym for when a patient leaves a hospital Against Medical Advice. I’ve only been able to successfully sneak out of a hospital twice in all my years, but Warren and Ridge were there for both escapes. And it’s not as irresponsible as Ridge is making it seem. I’m an expert when it comes to IVs and needles. And I know they’re only keeping me overnight to be monitored. Not because I’m in any immediate danger. I have been more congested today than normal, but my blood sugars are stable now, and that’s the only reason I’m here right now. Stable enough to eat at least a bite of a Twix bar. And the last thing I want to do is lie in a hospital bed all night while getting absolutely no sleep.

  I’ll contact the hospital in the morning and apologize, letting them know it was a family emergency. My doctor will be pissed, but I piss her off a lot. She’s used to being irritated with me.

  When she was here earlier, she started to get invasive about my “support system” since my health has been on somewhat of a decline this year. She’s been my primary doctor for ten years now, so she knows everything about my situation. I was raised by my grandparents, who are no longer taking care of me. My grandmother passed away, and my grandfather recently went to a nursing home. My doctor knows about Ridge and our recent break-up because he’s almost always with me at my appointments and anytime I’m in the hospital. But she’s noticed his sudden absence in my life because she asked about it during my last visit with her. And then today, she asked again because no one was with me in the hospital this time.

  After hearing her concern today, for a split second it made me regret pushing Ridge away in the end. I’m not still in
love with him, but I do love him. And part of me, when I start to worry about being alone, thinks maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I should have held on to his love and loyalty. But most of me knows that ending our relationship was the right thing to do. He would have conveniently remained in a mediocre relationship with me for the rest of my life if I hadn’t forced him to look at our relationship through a magnifying glass instead of his rose-colored glasses.

  Our relationship wasn’t a healthy one. He was stifling me, wanting me to be someone I didn’t want to be. I was growing resentful under the weight of his protection. And I always felt guilty. Every time he dropped everything he was doing for me, I felt guilty for pulling him away from his life.

  Yet…here we are, in the same predicament.

  I don’t think I realized how alone I was outside of him while I was dating him. It was when we finally separated that I truly realized he and Warren are all I had. It’s part of the reason I agreed they could come tonight. I think the three of us need to really sit down and have a heart-to-heart about this entire situation. I don’t want Ridge to feel like he’s all I have when I do have an emergency. But in reality…he is all I have. And I don’t want that to hinder his relationship with Sydney in any way. I mean, I know I have Warren, too. But I think Warren needs more care than even I do.

  My life is starting to feel like a merry-go-round, and I’m the only one on the ride. Sometimes it’s fun and exciting, but sometimes I feel like puking and I want it all to just stop. I realize I focus on all the negative way more than I should, but part of me wonders if it’s because my situation is so unusual. Most people have huge support systems, so they can live normal lives with this illness. My support system was my family, and that’s now non-existent. Then my support system became Ridge. Now? It’s still Ridge, but with different rules. The last few months of dissecting my situation has been eye-opening. And it puts me in weird funks. I used to feel stifled, but never alone.