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.
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.
