I’m at the sink straining pasta, watching Sydney walk around the kitchen and living room as she points at things and signs them. I correct her when she’s wrong, but she’s mostly been right. She points at the lamp and signs, “Lamp.” Then the couch. The pillow, the table, the window. She points at the towel on her head and signs, “Towel.”
When I nod, she grins and then pulls the towel off her head. Her damp hair falls around her shoulders, and I’ve imagined more times than I’d like to admit what her hair smells like fresh out of the shower. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her, pressing my face against her head so I can inhale the scent of her.
Then I go back to the stove, leaving her standing in the living room, looking at me like I’m weird. I shrug as I pour the Alfredo sauce into the pan of noodles. Someone grips my shoulder from behind me, and I know immediately that it’s Warren. I glance at him.
“Is there enough for me and Bridgette?”
I don’t know why we didn’t do this at Sydney’s apartment. It’s a lot more peaceful over there for me, and I can’t even hear. I can only imagine how much more peaceful it is for Sydney.
“There’s plenty,” I sign, realizing just how much I need to take Sydney out on a real date. I need to get her out of this apartment. I will tomorrow. I’ll take her on a twelve-hour date tomorrow. We’ll eat lunch and then go to the movies and then dinner and we won’t have to see Warren and Bridgette at all.
I’m taking the garlic bread out of the stove when Sydney rushes to the bathroom. At first, it concerns me that she just ran to the bathroom, but then I remember our phones are still on the counter. She must have a phone call.
She returns a moment later to the kitchen with her phone to her ear. She’s laughing as she talks to someone. Probably her mother.
I want to meet her parents. Sydney hasn’t told me a whole lot about them, other than her father is a lawyer and her mother has always been a stay-at- home mom. But she doesn’t seem put out when she speaks to them. The only people I’ve met in her life are Hunter and Tori—and I’d like to forget I ever met them—but her family is different. They’re her people, so I want to know
them, even if it’s to tell them they’ve raised an exceptional woman who I love with all my heart.
Sydney smiles at me and signs, “Mom,” as she points to her phone. Then she slides my phone across the bar to me. I press the home button and see that I have a missed call and a voicemail. It’s rare that I get phone calls, because everyone who knows me knows I can’t answer the phone. I usually only receive text messages.
I open my voicemail app to read the transcription, but it says, “Transcription not available.” I put my phone in my pocket and wait for Sydney to finish her phone call. I’ll just have her listen to the voicemail and let me know what it says.
I turn off the stove and the oven and set plates out at the table, along with the pans of food. Warren and Bridgette both magically appear as soon as dinner is ready. They’re like clockwork. They disappear when it’s time to clean or pay bills, but show up every time there’s food to be eaten. If they ever move out, they’re both going to starve.
Maybe I should move out. Let them have this apartment and see how fun it is having to pay bills on time. One of these days I will. I’ll move in with Sydney, but not yet. Not until I’ve met everyone in her family and not until she’s had the chance to live on her own for a while like she’s always wanted.
Sydney ends her phone call and sits down at the table next to me. I slide my phone to her and point to the voicemail. “Can you listen to that?”
She asked me earlier this afternoon to start signing everything I say to her, so I do. It’ll help her learn faster. I grab her plate as she listens to the voicemail, and I fill it with pasta. I throw a piece of garlic bread on it and set it in front of her, just as she pulls the phone away from her ear.
She stares at the screen for a second and then looks at Warren before looking at me. I’ve never seen this look on her face before. I’m not sure how to read it. She looks hesitant, worried, and somehow sick, and I don’t like it.
“What is it?”
She slides my phone back to me and grabs the glass of water I made for her. “Maggie,” she says, forcing my heart to a stop. She says something else, but she doesn’t sign it and I’m not able to read her lips. I swing my eyes to Warren and he signs what Sydney just said.
“It was the hospital. Maggie was admitted today.”
Everything sort of just stops. I say sort of because Bridgette is still making her plate of food, ignoring everything happening. I glance at Sydney again, and she’s taking a drink of her water, avoiding my gaze. I look at Warren, and he’s staring at me like I should know what to do.
I don’t know why he’s acting like it’s my choice to direct this scene.
Maggie is his friend, too. I look at him expectantly and then say, “Call her.” Sydney looks at me, and I’m looking at her, and I have no fucking idea
how to handle this situation. I don’t want to seem too worried, but there’s no way I can find out Maggie is in the hospital and not be worried. But I’m equally concerned about how this is making Sydney feel. I sigh and reach for Sydney’s hand under the table while I wait for Warren to get in touch with Maggie. Sydney slides her fingers through mine, but then props her other arm on the table, covering her mouth with her hand. She turns her attention to Warren, just as he stands up and starts talking into the phone. I watch him and wait. Sydney watches him and waits. Bridgette scoops up a huge portion of pasta with her bread and takes a bite.
Sydney’s leg is bouncing up and down. My pulse is pounding even faster than her leg. Warren’s conversation is dragging, taking what feels like forever to finish. I don’t know what is being said, but in the middle of the conversation, Sydney winces and then pulls her hand from mine and excuses herself from the table. I get up to follow her, just as Warren ends the call.
Now I’m standing in the middle of the living room about to rush after Sydney, but Warren starts to sign. “She passed out at a doctor’s office today. They’re keeping her overnight.”
I blow out a breath of relief. The hospitalizations for her diabetes are the best-case scenarios. It’s when she contracts a virus or a cold that it usually ends up taking weeks for her to recover.
I can tell by the look on Warren’s face that he’s not finished speaking yet. There’s something he hasn’t said. Something he said to Maggie that upset Sydney enough for her to walk away. “What else?” I ask him.
“She was crying,” he says. “She sounded…scared. But she wouldn’t tell me more than that. I told her we’re on our way.”
Maggie wants us there.
Maggie never wants us there. She always feels like she’s inconveniencing
us.
Something else must have happened.
I cover my mouth with my hand, my thoughts frozen.
I turn to walk toward my bedroom, but Sydney is standing in the doorway
with her shoes on and her purse over her shoulder. She’s leaving.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m not leaving because I’m mad. I just need to process all this.” She waves her hand flippantly around the room, then drops it to her side. She doesn’t leave, though. She simply stands there, confused.
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 once. Sydney’s eyes are wide, and I’m not sure if it’s because Bridgette said so much or because she might have just invited Sydney to hang out with her—either scenario is unprecedented for Bridgette.
“Must be a full moon,” Warren comments as he heads to the front door and opens it. I glance down at Sydney, wrap my arm around her waist, and pull her close. I lean in and press my lips to hers.
She kisses me back, gently nudging me toward the door. I tell her I love her three times before I finally manage to close it. 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.
