“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.