There can only be one other reason she’s here.
“Are you here about the Instagram post?” She must be. She’s never been here before. In fact, we haven’t spoken since the day I read all the messages between the two of them.
Sydney shakes her head as her eyes dart around the living room, taking in my home. She doesn’t seem nervous, but she steps inside my house so cautiously that it makes her seem somewhat vulnerable. I wonder if Ridge knows she’s here. It’s not like him to allow his girlfriend to show up and fight his battles for him. And Sydney doesn’t seem like the type who would fight his battles.
Which can only mean she’s here to fight her own battle.
“Sorry to just show up like this,” she says. “I would have texted you first, but I was worried you would tell me not to come.”
She’s right, but I don’t admit that out loud. I watch her for a moment and then turn and walk to my kitchen. “You want something to drink?” I ask, looking back at her.
She nods. “Water would be nice.”
I grab two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and motion her over to my dining room table. Something tells me this conversation is going to be more fitting for the table than a couch. We both take a seat across from each other. Sydney sets her phone and her keys beside her and opens the bottle of water. She takes a big swig and then puts the lid back on it, hugging the bottle to her as she leans forward on the table.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean for my voice to sound so stiff, but this is all so weird.
She licks her lips to moisten them, which makes me think she is nervous. “I’m here to apologize to you,” she says, matter-of-fact.
I narrow my eyes, trying to make sense of this. I spend the night fighting with her boyfriend, then I post a picture on Instagram in a moment of selfish stupidity, yet she says she’s here to apologize to me? There must be a catch.
“Apologize for what?”
She blows out a quick breath but holds eye contact with me. “For kissing Ridge when I knew he was dating you. I never apologized to you. It was shitty of me and I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, still confused why she drove all the way here for an apology I’m not even in need of. “I’ve never expected an apology from you, Sydney. You weren’t the one in a relationship with me. Ridge was.”
Sydney’s mouth twitches a little, like she’s relieved I’m not full of rage, but she knows the situation doesn’t call for a smile of relief. She nods, instead. “Even still. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. I know what it feels like when someone you love betrays you. I once punched a girl in her face for sleeping with my boyfriend, and you didn’t even yell at me for falling in love with yours.”
I appreciate that she recognizes as much. “It was hard for me to figure out who to be angry at after reading all the messages,” I admit. “You both seemed to try so hard to do the right thing. But from what Ridge told me about your last relationship, that experience was a lot different than what happened between you and Ridge. Your friend and boyfriend put your feelings last with their affair, but you and Ridge seemed to at least attempt to put my feelings first.”
Sydney nods. “He cares about you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “He worries a lot. Even still.” She takes another sip from her water bottle.
Her words fill me with even more regret over what happened between Ridge and me this weekend. Because I know he worries. And I feel like it’s my fault he still has to worry about me. Not only because I don’t take care of myself in all the ways he would like, but because I put this on him to begin with. I allowed a relationship to start up with him, knowing if we didn’t work out in the end, a part of him would always stay with me because that’s just the type of human he is. I’m not in a situation where he can choose to walk away from me completely and feel okay with that choice. Which must affect Sydney somehow, knowing she’ll never be rid of me until I make that final choice to cut my friendship off from Ridge completely. It’s just impossible to cut me out of his life entirely when we’ll still have a mutual friend.
I lean forward and fold my arms over the table, tugging at my shirtsleeve while I look down at it. “Is that why you’re here?” I ask, looking up at her. “To tell me you want me out of the picture?”
I expect her to nod now that I’ve pegged the reason she drove all the way from Austin. She needed to clear her conscience before asking me politely to never speak to Ridge again. But she doesn’t nod. She doesn’t shake her head. She just stares at me as if she’s trying to form an answer that won’t offend me.
“Ridge will worry about you whether he’s an active part of your life or not. I’m here because I want to make sure you’re okay. And if you aren’t, I want to know what I can do to help get you there. Because if you’re okay, Ridge won’t worry as much. And then I won’t have to worry about Ridge.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m not even sure if I should feel offended by it. She’s here—not because she’s worried about me—but because she’s worried about Ridge. Part of me wants to tell her to leave, but part of me is relieved she said that. Because if she pretended to be worried about me, I wouldn’t believe her. She’s a little like Warren in that respect—transparent to the point that it sometimes stings.
Sydney blows out a heavy breath and then says, “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to put myself in your shoes. Telling myself what I would do differently if I were you.” She’s not looking at me as she speaks. She’s fidgeting with the label on her bottle of water, avoiding eye contact with me. “I tell myself that I would take better care of my health than you do. Or that I wouldn’t make irresponsible choices, like leaving a hospital before I’m discharged. But those things are easy for me to say because I’m not actually in your shoes. I can’t even fathom what you go through, Maggie. I don’t know what it’s like to have to take multiple medications every day, or to visit the doctor more than I visit my own parents. I don’t have to worry about germs every time I step foot out my front door or every time someone touches me. I don’t base my entire schedule around treatments I’m forced to give myself in order to simply take a breath. I don’t have to base every life decision I make on the chance that I’ll likely die sometime in the next decade. And I can’t sit here and assume that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t fault Ridge for caring too much about me. Because the only thing that ties him to me is his love. There are no other factors tying him to me, so I can see why you would grow to resent that about him. He tried to protect you, but you just wanted him to ignore your illness so that you could ignore it, too.”
She finally looks up from her water bottle, and I swear there are tears in her eyes. “I know I don’t know you very well at all,” she says. “But I do know that Ridge would not be as upset as he is if there weren’t a million qualities that he sees in you. I’m hoping one of those qualities is your ability to swallow your pride enough to realize that you should apologize to him for making him feel the way he felt after leaving your house Saturday. He deserves at least that much after how hard he’s loved you, Maggie.”
She swipes at a tear. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m in shock, I think. I wasn’t expecting her to be here because she wants me to contact Ridge.
“You may think you don’t need him, and maybe that’s true,” she adds. “Maybe you don’t. But Ridge needs you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of and that you’re safe, because if he doesn’t at least have that reassurance, his worry and guilt are going to eat at him. And to answer your question from earlier… No. I don’t want you out of the picture. This was your picture first. Yours and Warren’s and Ridge’s. But now that I’m a part of it, we all need to figure out how to fit in the frame.”
I’m still at a loss for words. I take a sip of my water and then slowly screw the cap back on, staring down at it, avoiding Sydney’s teary eyes. I’m trying to make sense of everything she just said without taking too much time before I respond. “That was a lot,” I say. “I need a moment.”
“Are you here about the Instagram post?” She must be. She’s never been here before. In fact, we haven’t spoken since the day I read all the messages between the two of them.
Sydney shakes her head as her eyes dart around the living room, taking in my home. She doesn’t seem nervous, but she steps inside my house so cautiously that it makes her seem somewhat vulnerable. I wonder if Ridge knows she’s here. It’s not like him to allow his girlfriend to show up and fight his battles for him. And Sydney doesn’t seem like the type who would fight his battles.
Which can only mean she’s here to fight her own battle.
“Sorry to just show up like this,” she says. “I would have texted you first, but I was worried you would tell me not to come.”
She’s right, but I don’t admit that out loud. I watch her for a moment and then turn and walk to my kitchen. “You want something to drink?” I ask, looking back at her.
She nods. “Water would be nice.”
I grab two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and motion her over to my dining room table. Something tells me this conversation is going to be more fitting for the table than a couch. We both take a seat across from each other. Sydney sets her phone and her keys beside her and opens the bottle of water. She takes a big swig and then puts the lid back on it, hugging the bottle to her as she leans forward on the table.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean for my voice to sound so stiff, but this is all so weird.
She licks her lips to moisten them, which makes me think she is nervous. “I’m here to apologize to you,” she says, matter-of-fact.
I narrow my eyes, trying to make sense of this. I spend the night fighting with her boyfriend, then I post a picture on Instagram in a moment of selfish stupidity, yet she says she’s here to apologize to me? There must be a catch.
“Apologize for what?”
She blows out a quick breath but holds eye contact with me. “For kissing Ridge when I knew he was dating you. I never apologized to you. It was shitty of me and I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, still confused why she drove all the way here for an apology I’m not even in need of. “I’ve never expected an apology from you, Sydney. You weren’t the one in a relationship with me. Ridge was.”
Sydney’s mouth twitches a little, like she’s relieved I’m not full of rage, but she knows the situation doesn’t call for a smile of relief. She nods, instead. “Even still. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. I know what it feels like when someone you love betrays you. I once punched a girl in her face for sleeping with my boyfriend, and you didn’t even yell at me for falling in love with yours.”
I appreciate that she recognizes as much. “It was hard for me to figure out who to be angry at after reading all the messages,” I admit. “You both seemed to try so hard to do the right thing. But from what Ridge told me about your last relationship, that experience was a lot different than what happened between you and Ridge. Your friend and boyfriend put your feelings last with their affair, but you and Ridge seemed to at least attempt to put my feelings first.”
Sydney nods. “He cares about you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “He worries a lot. Even still.” She takes another sip from her water bottle.
Her words fill me with even more regret over what happened between Ridge and me this weekend. Because I know he worries. And I feel like it’s my fault he still has to worry about me. Not only because I don’t take care of myself in all the ways he would like, but because I put this on him to begin with. I allowed a relationship to start up with him, knowing if we didn’t work out in the end, a part of him would always stay with me because that’s just the type of human he is. I’m not in a situation where he can choose to walk away from me completely and feel okay with that choice. Which must affect Sydney somehow, knowing she’ll never be rid of me until I make that final choice to cut my friendship off from Ridge completely. It’s just impossible to cut me out of his life entirely when we’ll still have a mutual friend.
I lean forward and fold my arms over the table, tugging at my shirtsleeve while I look down at it. “Is that why you’re here?” I ask, looking up at her. “To tell me you want me out of the picture?”
I expect her to nod now that I’ve pegged the reason she drove all the way from Austin. She needed to clear her conscience before asking me politely to never speak to Ridge again. But she doesn’t nod. She doesn’t shake her head. She just stares at me as if she’s trying to form an answer that won’t offend me.
“Ridge will worry about you whether he’s an active part of your life or not. I’m here because I want to make sure you’re okay. And if you aren’t, I want to know what I can do to help get you there. Because if you’re okay, Ridge won’t worry as much. And then I won’t have to worry about Ridge.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m not even sure if I should feel offended by it. She’s here—not because she’s worried about me—but because she’s worried about Ridge. Part of me wants to tell her to leave, but part of me is relieved she said that. Because if she pretended to be worried about me, I wouldn’t believe her. She’s a little like Warren in that respect—transparent to the point that it sometimes stings.
Sydney blows out a heavy breath and then says, “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to put myself in your shoes. Telling myself what I would do differently if I were you.” She’s not looking at me as she speaks. She’s fidgeting with the label on her bottle of water, avoiding eye contact with me. “I tell myself that I would take better care of my health than you do. Or that I wouldn’t make irresponsible choices, like leaving a hospital before I’m discharged. But those things are easy for me to say because I’m not actually in your shoes. I can’t even fathom what you go through, Maggie. I don’t know what it’s like to have to take multiple medications every day, or to visit the doctor more than I visit my own parents. I don’t have to worry about germs every time I step foot out my front door or every time someone touches me. I don’t base my entire schedule around treatments I’m forced to give myself in order to simply take a breath. I don’t have to base every life decision I make on the chance that I’ll likely die sometime in the next decade. And I can’t sit here and assume that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t fault Ridge for caring too much about me. Because the only thing that ties him to me is his love. There are no other factors tying him to me, so I can see why you would grow to resent that about him. He tried to protect you, but you just wanted him to ignore your illness so that you could ignore it, too.”
She finally looks up from her water bottle, and I swear there are tears in her eyes. “I know I don’t know you very well at all,” she says. “But I do know that Ridge would not be as upset as he is if there weren’t a million qualities that he sees in you. I’m hoping one of those qualities is your ability to swallow your pride enough to realize that you should apologize to him for making him feel the way he felt after leaving your house Saturday. He deserves at least that much after how hard he’s loved you, Maggie.”
She swipes at a tear. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m in shock, I think. I wasn’t expecting her to be here because she wants me to contact Ridge.
“You may think you don’t need him, and maybe that’s true,” she adds. “Maybe you don’t. But Ridge needs you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of and that you’re safe, because if he doesn’t at least have that reassurance, his worry and guilt are going to eat at him. And to answer your question from earlier… No. I don’t want you out of the picture. This was your picture first. Yours and Warren’s and Ridge’s. But now that I’m a part of it, we all need to figure out how to fit in the frame.”
I’m still at a loss for words. I take a sip of my water and then slowly screw the cap back on, staring down at it, avoiding Sydney’s teary eyes. I’m trying to make sense of everything she just said without taking too much time before I respond. “That was a lot,” I say. “I need a moment.”
