I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Ridge’s car, staring out the window. My right hand is touching my chest, lightly fingering the word he wrote over my heart Tuesday night. Mine. It’s faded now because it’s been four days since he wrote it, but luckily it was a permanent marker, and I’ve avoided scrubbing it off in the shower.
When he left the library Tuesday night, I immediately had to sit down. He had left me so breathless, I almost felt faint. He wasn’t even there five minutes, and it was the most intense five minutes of my life. So much so, I convinced my coworker to stay for the rest of my shift, and then I drove straight to Ridge’s apartment to finish what he started. Those five intense minutes in the library became two intense hours in his bed.
Since then, we’ve spent three of the last four nights together.
He told me all about his conversation with Maggie. I hate that her grandfather passed away just hours after I left her apartment on Sunday. But knowing she was dealing with all of that, yet still made the time to stop by Ridge’s and apologize to him, made me appreciate her effort even more. And it really did make a huge difference in Ridge. It’s like a heavy weight was lifted after their talk on Tuesday. The last four days with him have been the best four days I’ve spent with him since the day we met.
In the beginning of getting to know him, every conversation we had was encased by guilt because of Maggie. Then, after his and Maggie’s fight last week, every conversation we had was laced with worry because of Maggie. But since Tuesday, every time we’re alone, it finally feels like we’re actually alone. Somehow, merging Maggie more into our lives seems to have removed her even more from our relationship. It shouldn’t make sense, but it does. Putting more focus on their friendship than on the fact that she’s his ex- girlfriend will be better for our relationship in the long run.
Hopefully, Bridgette will be able to realize that soon. Because right now, she’s not happy. Warren and Bridgette are in the back seat. Ridge is driving. Bridgette hasn’t said a single word on the way to Maggie’s house, because she and Warren got into a fight right before we left. She demanded she come with him, but he told her he didn’t want her there because she doesn’t know
how to be nice to Maggie. That pissed her off. They went to their room and fought while Ridge and I sat on the couch and waited.
Actually, we sat on the couch and made out, so we didn’t really care how long their fight lasted. But it still hasn’t ended because we’re pulling into Maggie’s driveway, and the only words Bridgette has spoken between Austin and this driveway are, “I have to pee.” She says it as she gets out of the car and slams her door.
Bridgette isn’t the most reasonable person. But I’m growing to really like her and even understand her. She wears her emotions on her sleeve. But she has a lot of emotions, so it’s more like she wears her emotions on several long-sleeved shirts, layered on top of each other.
No one has to knock on the door, because Maggie opens it as we’re walking up the driveway. Warren walks in first and gives her a hug. Bridgette passes right by her, but Ridge gives her a quick hug. I do, too, simply because I’d rather start this off with a good sentiment.
“Smells good,” Ridge signs as he tosses his keys on the counter. “Lasagna,” Maggie says. “I’m reading this book where the characters
make lasagna anytime they need to talk through something. Thought it was fitting for tonight.” Maggie looks at me as she walks into her kitchen. “Do you like to read, Sydney?”
“Love to read,” I say, taking off my cardigan. I set it over the back of one of the chairs. “I just don’t have a lot of time. Which is sad, considering I work in a library.”
Bridgette walks to the bathroom, and Warren tosses himself dramatically on the couch, face down into a throw pillow. “Kill me now,” he mutters.
“Trouble in paradise?” Maggie says.
Warren lifts his head and looks at her. “Paradise? When have Bridgette and I ever lived in paradise?”
“Trouble in Sheol?” Maggie corrects.
Warren sits up on the couch. “I don’t even know what that means.” “It’s another word for Hell.”
“Oh,” Warren says. “You know not to use big words around me.” “It’s only five letters long.”
I’m watching them converse, my attention going back and forth between them. I finally focus on Ridge, who is standing in front of me now. “You thirsty?” he asks.
I nod. He walks to the kitchen and opens a cabinet, then begins making us both something to drink. It’s odd, watching him move his way around the kitchen like it’s his kitchen. It makes me realize that in a way, it used to be. There’s no telling how much time he spent here at her house. I guess this is one of those fairly awkward moments I’m going to have to get used to. Ridge brings me a glass of water, and then he takes a seat on the couch next to
Warren.
I walk into the kitchen.
“You need any help?” I ask Maggie.
She shakes her head and opens the refrigerator, placing a salad inside. “No, thanks. Everything is finished except the lasagna.” She looks at Ridge and Warren. “You guys ready to sit at the table and do this before we eat?”
Warren slaps his jeans. “Ready,” he says, hopping up.
The four of us make our way to the kitchen table just as Bridgette walks out of the bathroom. Maggie is at the head of the table. I’m sitting next to Ridge, and Warren is seated next to an empty chair, but Bridgette chooses to claim the chair at the opposite head of the table so that there’s an empty seat between Warren and her. He shakes his head, ignoring her.
Maggie opens up a folder and then sits up straight and signs everything she begins to speak. I like watching her sign. I don’t know why, but I find it a little easier to follow her than Ridge or Warren. Maybe because her hands are more delicate, but it seems like she signs a little slower and—if this even makes sense—with more enunciation.
She looks at all of us. “Thank you for agreeing to this.” She directs her attention at me. “And thank you,” she says, without being specific. I nod, but really, it’s Warren she should be thanking. He’s the one who gave me the kick in the rear I needed to finally make a forward move with Maggie.
“I’ve made a couple of decisions that I want to talk about first, because they affect the next year of my life. And subsequently, yours.” She nods her head toward her hallway. We all look at the hallway, and for the first time, I notice moving boxes. “My internship is over, and so is my thesis, so I’ve decided to move back to Austin. My landlord informed me on Wednesday that she was able to rent the house to someone else, so I have to be out by the end of the month.”
I take her pause as an opportunity to interrupt with a question. “Isn’t your doctor here in San Antonio?”
Maggie shakes her head. “She has a satellite office here one day a week.
But she’s based out of Austin, so it’ll actually be easier for me.”
“Have you found an apartment yet?” Warren asks. “The end of the month is just a few days away.”
Maggie nods again. “I have, but it won’t be ready until April fifth. The tenants just moved out, and they have to carpet and repaint.”
“Is it the same complex as last time?” Warren asks.
Maggie’s eyes flicker from Warren to Ridge. There’s something unspoken there, even though she’s shaking her head, giving them an answer. “They didn’t have anything available. This one is in North Austin.”
Warren leans forward and gives her a look that I don’t understand. Ridge sighs heavily. I feel lost.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong with North Austin?”
Maggie looks at me. “It’s pretty far from you guys. Ridge and I… Back when I had my apartment in Austin…we both chose complexes that were close to the hospital and my doctor. It made things easier.”
“Have you checked our complex?” Warren asks. “I know there are units available.”
Bridgette makes a noise of protest. She clears her throat and then plops her purse down on the table. She pulls out a nail file, leans back in her chair, and starts filing her fingernails.
I look back at Maggie, and she’s looking at me. She shakes her head and says, “No, but North Austin should be fine. I’ve been here in San Antonio for a year now, and everything has been fine.”
“I wouldn’t say fine,” Warren says.
“You know what I mean, Warren. I haven’t had an emergency to the point that I would have died without you guys here. I think I’ll be fine if I’m only on the other side of town.”
Ridge shakes his head. “You would have died in my bathroom if Sydney hadn’t found you. Just because you’ve been lucky doesn’t mean it’s been a smart move.”
“Agreed,” Warren says. “You live north of San Antonio. We live in South Austin. It takes forty-five minutes from our driveway to yours. But if you move to North Austin, with traffic, it’ll take more than an hour to get to you. You might be moving to the same city, but it’ll take us even more time to get to you.”
Maggie sighs. She looks down and lowers her voice a little. “I can’t afford anything else right now. The only apartments near the hospital with any availability are too expensive for me.”
“Why don’t you get a job?” Bridgette asks.
We all turn our attention toward Bridgette. I don’t think anyone was expecting anything to come out of her mouth. She’s holding the nail file against her thumbnail, staring at Maggie.
“It’s hard to hold a job when you’re in the hospital on a regular basis,” Maggie says. “I had to apply for disability three years ago just to be able to pay my rent.” She’s being a little defensive, but I get it. Bridgette doesn’t seem to sugarcoat her questions around Maggie at all. Or anyone, for that matter.
Bridgette shrugs and goes back to filing her nails.
“Like I asked earlier, have you even checked availability in our complex?” Warren asks.
Again, Maggie’s attention is on me when this is brought up. I glance at Ridge, and he looks at me. We read each other without saying a word.
I nod, even though it seems absurd if I give it too much thought. But for
whatever reason, it doesn’t feel absurd. Having her in the same complex as Ridge and Warren would make things easier on all of them. And I truly don’t believe Ridge or Maggie want to go down a road they’ve already traveled, so I surprisingly don’t feel at all threatened by the thought of it. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I have to go with my gut. And my gut is telling me that she needs to be closer to them rather than farther away.
“I don’t mind if you live in the same complex as Ridge, if that’s what’s stopping you,” I say. “My ex-boyfriend moved into the complex with my ex- best friend after I moved in with Ridge and Warren last year. We can see right into their living room from Ridge’s balcony. Believe me, nothing can feel weirder than that.”
Maggie smiles appreciatively at me and then looks toward Bridgette across the table. Ridge puts his arm on the back of my chair and then leans over, quickly kissing the side of my head. I love his silent thank-yous.
Bridgette looks up, directly at Maggie. She doesn’t look happy. She turns her attention toward Warren and leans forward. “Shit, Warren, why don’t you just move her into one of the spare bedrooms? We can be one big happy family.”
Warren rolls his eyes. “Bridgette, stop.”
“No. Think about it. I moved in and you started sleeping with me. Sydney moved in and Ridge started messing around with her. It’s only fair that Maggie gets a turn.”
I close my eyes and drop my head, shaking it. Why did Bridgette have to go there? I glance at Maggie, and she’s shooting daggers at Bridgette.
“I think you forget that I’ve already been with them both, Bridgette. I actually don’t need a turn, but thank you for being considerate.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Bridgette says.
And…this just went from bad to worse. I don’t even think Ridge knows what just happened. As soon as that sentence comes out of Bridgette’s mouth, Maggie calmly scoots her chair back and stands up. She walks to her bedroom and closes the door. They both just took this way, way too far. My head is in my hands now, and all I can say is, “Bridgette. Why?”
Bridgette looks at me like I’ve betrayed her. She waves a hand toward Maggie’s bedroom. “How can you be okay with this? She’s ungrateful and always has been, and now she’s moving herself into our complex and twisted it to make it look like your idea!”
For a second, I entertain her thoughts. But only for a second. After two seconds, I stand up and make my way to Maggie’s bedroom. I honestly think Bridgette has her pegged wrong. I don’t see Ridge loving someone who is that ungrateful and manipulative. I just don’t.
I push open Maggie’s bedroom door, and she’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, wiping away a tear. I sit down on the bed next to her. Maggie lifts her
head, looking at me with eyes full of guilt.
“I’m sorry. That was tacky. But Bridgette is wrong, I’m not trying to take over either of your lives,” she whispers. I can tell by her voice that she’s on the verge of more tears. “If it were up to me, I’d be so far out from under their thumbs, it would take hours for them to drive to me. But I’m trying to be more cooperative, Sydney. I’m trying to be more respectful of their time.”
That I believe. I think Maggie would much rather live in a place where she could get away with being lax. “I believe you. And I agree,” I say. “We’re here because Warren and Ridge are going to be your primary caregivers when you’re sick. I think we need to leave Bridgette’s feelings out of it. And mine. And honestly, even yours. This is about how we can make things easier on Warren and Ridge, and you living in the same complex as them will definitely make things easier on them.”
Maggie nods. “I know. But I don’t want to cause trouble between Warren and Bridgette. I think it should ultimately be yours and Bridgette’s decision, but I don’t think she’ll ever agree to it. I honestly don’t blame her.”
She’s right. It should be something we all agree to. I turn my head toward the door and yell, “Bridgette!”
I hear a chair scoot across the floor, followed by dramatic stomps heading in the direction of Maggie’s bedroom. Bridgette finally opens the door, but she leans against the doorframe and folds her arms across her chest.
I pat the bed. “Come here, Bridgette.” “I’m fine right here.”
I look at her like I would look at an ornery child. “Get your ass over here right now.”
Bridgette stomps to the bed and throws herself across the foot of it. She’s being just as dramatic as Warren was being when he threw himself on Maggie’s couch earlier. Their intense similarities make me want to laugh. Bridgette stares at me and avoids eye contact with Maggie.
I lean back against the headboard and tilt my head as I look at her. “What are you feeling, Bridgette?”
She rolls her eyes and lifts up onto her elbow. “Well, Dr. Blake,” she says sarcastically, “I feel like the ex-girlfriend of both of our boyfriends is about to move into the same apartment complex as us, and I don’t like it.”
“You think I do?” Maggie says.
Bridgette looks at her. There is absolutely no love between the two of them. At all.
“How long have you two known each other?” I ask.
“She moved in with Ridge and Warren a few months before you did,” Maggie says, talking about her like she’s not on the same bed. “And I tried being nice to her at first, but you know how that goes.”
“I think the three of us just need to get drunk together,” I suggest. It
worked for Bridgette and me. Maybe it could work for Bridgette and Maggie.
Maggie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That sounds like an absolute nightmare.”
Bridgette nods in agreement. “Alcohol can’t erase years of history between her and Warren.”
Maggie laughs, addressing Bridgette directly now. “Do you really think there’s a chance in Hell I would ever be romantically interested in Warren again? That’s absurd.”
Bridgette rolls onto her back and looks up at the ceiling. “I’m not worried about you falling for him. I’m worried about him falling for you. You’re really pretty, and Warren is shallow.”
Maggie and I both look at each other. Then we both start laughing. I shake my head, completely taken aback by Bridgette’s insecurity. “Do you not realize what a knockout you are? Warren could be as shallow as a desert and he’d still be head over heels for you.”
“I don’t really want to compliment you because you’re mean to me,” Maggie says to Bridgette. “But Sydney is right. Have you seen your ass? It looks like two Pringles hugging.”
What the hell does that even mean? Maggie’s comment makes Bridgette laugh, even though she tries to hide it.
“You work at Hooters, for Christ’s sake,” Maggie adds. “If I showed up at Hooters, they’d turn me away, thinking I was a twelve-year-old boy.”
Bridgette turns her head toward Maggie. “Go on…” she says, urging us to continue with the compliments.
I roll my eyes and stretch my legs out, kicking her playfully in the thigh. “Warren loves you. Get over your weird insecurities. You’re lucky you have a man who has a heart big enough to want to care for one of his best friends.”
Maggie nods. “It’s true. He’s a good guy. A really shallow, somewhat conceited, extremely perverted good guy.”
Bridgette groans and then sits up on the bed. She looks at me, and then she looks at Maggie. She doesn’t say it’s okay for Maggie to move into the same complex, but she also isn’t protesting anymore, so I’ll take this as a victory. She stands up and walks toward the door, but pauses in front of Maggie’s floor-length mirror. She turns around and looks at herself over her shoulder, cupping her butt with both hands. “You really think it looks like two Pringles hugging?”
Maggie reaches behind her and grabs a pillow, then throws it at Bridgette.
Bridgette pats her own ass and then leaves the bedroom.
Maggie falls onto her bed and groans into her mattress, then sits back up and looks at me, her head tilted to the side. “Thank you. I’ve never known how to deal with her. She terrifies me.”
I nod. “Me, too.”
Bridgette and I may get along now, but I’m still scared to death of her wrath.
Maggie slides off the bed and walks back toward the living room. I follow her. Once we’re all seated back at the table, she pulls her notebook in front of her. I look at Ridge, and he smiles at me. “I love you,” he mouths.
He says it all the time to me, so I don’t know why it makes me blush this time.
“They have two available units,” Warren says, sliding his phone toward Maggie. “One up, one down. The one downstairs is at the other end of the complex, but I think you should be downstairs.”
Maggie looks at his phone. “It says it isn’t available until the 3rd. I can call in the morning and reserve it, then just get a hotel for a few days between apartments.”
“That’s just a waste of money,” Bridgette says. “It’s only a few days. Just stay in my old bedroom. Or Brennan’s. They’re both empty.” She’s filing her nails again, but the words that just came out of her mouth are monumental. It’s the closest she could come to an apology without actually saying to Maggie, “I was rude. I’m sorry.”
Ridge looks at me and squeezes my hand under the table, then texts me.
Ridge: I’ll stay at your place while she’s at ours, if it’s okay.
I nod. I would probably have made him, even if he hadn’t suggested it.
I don’t even know that I could disagree with her staying there for a few days at this point because everything going on with the people at this table has long since passed the definition of normal. Warren once said to me, “Welcome to the weirdest place you’ll ever live.”
I get it now. I don’t even live with them anymore, but that apartment and the rotating door attached to it defy every boundary ever put into place.
Warren scoots his chair back and stands up, then claims the empty chair next to Bridgette. He reaches over and grabs her nail file, then tosses it into the living room. He pulls her chair closer to his and he kisses her.
And Bridgette actually lets him for a good five seconds. It’s both adorable and highly uncomfortable.
Maggie rolls her eyes and then pushes her folder in front of Ridge. “I’ve made a list of compromises. There are things I still want to do that I’m going to need you to be okay with. And in return, I promise I’m going to take better care of myself. But you can’t be bossy with me until you’ve given me a little time to adjust. I’m a hot mess, and it’s going to take some time to improve that part of my personality.”
Ridge looks over the list for a moment, but looks up at her and signs something I don’t recognize. Maggie nods. “Yes. I’m going bungee jumping
and you can’t tell me no. We’re compromising.”
Ridge sighs and then pushes the list back in front of Maggie. “Fine. But you’re joining a support group.”
Maggie laughs, but Ridge doesn’t.
“That’s not a compromise,” Maggie says. “That’s torture.”
Ridge shrugs. “We’re compromising,” he says. “If you hate it, you can stop. But I think it’ll be good for you. I don’t think any of us truly knows what you’re going through, and I think it’ll be good for you to talk with people who do.”
Maggie groans and drops her head on the table, hitting it three times against the wood. She scoots back from her chair and looks at me. “You’re going with me,” she says, walking toward the kitchen.
“To your support group?” I ask, confused. I don’t know why I’m suddenly being tortured in this compromise.
“Nope,” Maggie says. “Not to support group. CF support groups are only online. You’re going bungee jumping with me.”
Bungee jumping. Hmm. My boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend wants me to jump off a bridge. Kind of ironic when you think about it. I look over at Ridge and grin. I’ve always wanted to bungee jump. He just shakes his head and smiles back at me, like he was just defeated.
“I’ve always wondered something,” Bridgette says, looking across the room at Maggie. Warren is in the living room retrieving Bridgette’s nail file. “Why don’t you just get a lung transplant? Won’t that cure the disease?”
I’ve wondered that, too, but haven’t brought it up to Ridge yet.
“It’s not that easy,” Warren says, handing Bridgette the nail file. “Cystic Fibrosis doesn’t just affect the lungs, so new lungs won’t cure someone of the disease completely.”
“Also, I’m not in that predicament yet,” Maggie says. “In order to get new lungs, you have to have a really grim prognosis, but without being too sick to receive a lung transplant. Luckily, I’m too healthy to be a candidate right now. It’s a tricky position to be in. New lungs would be nice, but I don’t really want to be in the position to be a candidate because it means my health would have to decline first. And a transplant could prolong someone’s life by a few years, but it could also cut it short. Way short. Not something I’m hoping for anytime soon, to be honest.”
“New advancements happen every day, though,” Warren adds. “Which is why we’re really only discussing the near future tonight, not a long-term plan. If we try to plan too far ahead, it might discourage other possibilities. Maggie doesn’t want to hinder our lives, and we don’t want to hinder hers, so right now, the best scenario is to just tackle things a few months at a time with the tools we have to tackle them.”
Ridge nods, but then responds to Warren. “Sometimes I feel like your
brain is on a power reserve. It’s off most of the time, but the few times you do turn it on, it’s at high power.”
Warren smiles at him. “Why, thank you, Ridge.”
Maggie laughs. “I’m not sure that was a compliment, Warren.” “Sure it was,” Warren says.
I think it was both an insult and a compliment, which makes me laugh.
We spend the next half hour eating the lasagna Maggie prepared and working out more compromises. Bridgette doesn’t say much, but she’s also not rude at all, which is a huge improvement from when we walked through the front door.
After we tell Maggie goodnight, Ridge grabs my hand and leads me to the back seat of the car. He forces Warren to drive home since he drove here, which is fine with me because I really want to share the back seat with Ridge on the ride home.
He reaches across the seat and slides his fingers through mine as we’re pulling out of Maggie’s driveway. He pulls out his phone and texts me one- handed.
Ridge: You’re like the Bridgette whisperer. I don’t know how you do it.
Sydney: She’s not that bad. I think she’s always so defensive because no one has ever really made any effort to break through that defensiveness.
Ridge: Exactly. It says something that you made the effort. Sydney: So did Warren.
Ridge: Only because he wanted to sleep with her. I don’t think he ever expected to fall in love with her. That was a surprise to everyone. Especially him.
Sydney: You have unique friends. I like them. Ridge: They’re your friends now, too.
He squeezes my hand after I read his text. Then he reaches over and unbuckles my seatbelt, pulling me closer to him. Once I’m in the middle of the backseat, he refastens the middle seatbelt around me, pulling me against him. “Better,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.
His thumb is grazing my shoulder, but his hand eventually makes its way down, just far enough so that he can trace the faded letters he wrote over my heart. He presses his mouth against my ear. “Mine,” he says quietly.
I smile and place my hand over his heart. “Mine,” I whisper.
Ridge presses his mouth to mine, and I smile through the whole kiss. I can’t help it. When he pulls back, he leans against the door, pulling me even closer. I lift my legs onto the seat and curl them under me as I snuggle against him.
