My text tone has become one of those sound triggers.
Namely, Ridges text tone. Its very distinct, a snippet from the demo of our song Maybe Someday. I assigned it to him after I heard the song for the first time. Id like to say that sound trigger is a negative one, but Im not so sure it is. The kiss I experienced with him during the song certainly led to negative feelings of guilt, but the kiss itself still turns my heart into a hot mess just thinking about it. And I think about it a lot. Way more than I should.
In fact, Im thinking about it right now as the snippet of our song pours from the speakers of my cell phone, indicating that Im receiving a text.
From Ridge.
I honestly never expected to hear this sound again.
I roll over on my bed and stretch my arm to the nightstand, my now-trembling fingers grasping at my phone. Knowing that Ive received a text from him has once again wreaked havoc with my organs, and theyve forgotten how to function properly. I pull the phone to my chest and close my eyes, too nervous to read his words.
Beat, beat, pause.
Contract, expand.
Inhale, exhale.
I slowly open my eyes and hold up the phone, then unlock the screen.
Ridge: Are you home?
Am I home?
Why would he care if I were home? He doesnt even know where I live. Besides, he made it pretty clear where his hearts loyalty resided when he told me to move out three weeks ago.
But I am home, and despite my better judgment, I want him to know Im home. Im tempted to respond with my address and tell him to come find out for himself whether or not Im home.
Instead, I go with something safer. Something less telling.
Me: Yes.
I pull the covers off and sit up on the edge of the bed, watching my phone, too afraid even to blink.
Ridge: Youre not answering the door. Am I at the wrong apartment?
Oh, God.
I hope hes at the wrong apartment. Or maybe I hope hes at the right apartment. I cant really tell, because Im happy hes here, but Im pissed off that hes here.
These conflicting feelings are exhausting.
I stand and run out of my bedroom, straight to my front door. I peer through the peephole, and sure enough, hes at my front door.
Me: Youre outside my door, so yeah. Right apartment.
I look out the peephole again after hitting send, and hes standing with his palm flat against the door, staring at his phone. Seeing the pained expression on his face and knowing it derives from the battle his heart is going through makes me want to swing open the door and throw my arms around him. I close my eyes and press my forehead to the door in order to give myself time to think before making any rash decisions. My heart is being pulled toward him, and I cant think of anything I want more right now than to open this door.
However, I also know that opening the door wont do either of us any good. He just broke up with Maggie a matter of weeks ago, so if hes here for me, he can turn right around and leave. Theres no way anything could work between us when I know hes still heartbroken over someone else. I deserve more than what he can give me right now. Ive been through too much this year to let someone screw with my heart like this.
He shouldnt be here.
Ridge: Can I come in?
I turn until my back is pressed against the door. I clutch the phone to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut. I dont want to read his words. I dont want to see his face. Everything about him makes me lose sight of whats important, whats best for me. He isnt whats best for my life right now, especially considering what hes gone through in his own life, and I should walk away from this door and not let him in.
But everything in me wants to let him in.
Please, Sydney.
The words are almost an inaudible whisper through the other side of the door, but I definitely heard them. Every single part of me heard them. The desperation in his voice, combined with the simple fact that he spoke, completely slays me. I allow my heart to make my decision for me this time as I slowly face the door. I turn the lock and slide the latch loose, then open the door.
I cant describe what it feels like to see him standing in front of me again without using the term terrifying.
Everything about the way he makes me feel is absolutely terrifying. The way my heart wants to be held by him is terrifying. The way my knees seem to forget how to hold me up is terrifying. The way my mouth wants to be claimed by his is terrifying.
I do my best to hide what his presence does to me by turning away from him and walking toward the living room.
I dont know why Im trying to hide my reaction from him, but isnt that what people do? We try so hard to hide everything were really feeling from those who probably need to know our true feelings the most. People try to bottle up their emotions, as if its somehow wrong to have natural reactions to life.
My natural reaction in this moment is to turn and hug him, regardless of the reason hes here. My arms want to be around him, my face wants to be pressed against his chest, my back wants to be cradled by himyet Im standing here trying to pretend thats the last thing I need from him.
Why?
I inhale a calming breath, then turn around when I hear him close the front door behind him. I lift my eyes to meet his, and hes standing several feet in front of me, watching me. I can tell by the tightness in his expression that hes doing exactly what Im doing. Hes holding back everything hes feeling for the sake of . . . what?
Pride?
Fear?
The one thing Ive always admired about my relationship with Ridge is that were so honest and real with each other. Ive always been able to say exactly what I was thinking, and so has he. I dont like this shift weve made.
I try to smile at him, but Im not sure if my smile is working right now. I speak to him and enunciate clearly so he can read my lips. Are you here because you need a flaw?
He laughs and exhales at the same time, relieved that Im not angry.
Im not angry. Ive never been mad at him. The decisions hes made during the time hes known me arent decisions I can hold against him. The only thing I hold against him is the night he kissed me and ruined me for every other kiss Ill ever experience.
I take a seat on the couch and look up at him. Are you okay? I ask.
He sighs, and I quickly look away. Its hard enough being in the same room as him right now, but even harder to make eye contact with him. He completes the walk into the living room and sits on the couch next to me.
I debated buying more furniture, but one couch was all I could afford. A love seat at that. Im not so sure Im sad about my lack of furniture, though, because his leg is touching my thigh, and the simple contact causes heat to roll through me like a riptide. I look down at our knees when they brush together and realize Im still wearing the T-shirt I threw on right before I went to bed. I guess I was so shocked by the fact that he said he was at my apartment door that I didnt concern myself with how I looked. Im in nothing but an oversized cotton T-shirt that falls to my knees, and my hair is more than likely a wreck.
Hes in jeans and a gray Sounds of Cedar T-shirt. I would say I feel underdressed, but Im actually dressed appropriately for what I was doing before he showed up, which was going to bed.
Ridge: I dont know if Im okay. Are you okay?
I forgot I even asked him a question for a second.
I shrug. Im sure I will be fine, but Im not going to lie and tell him I am. I think its obvious that neither one of us can really be okay with how everything has turned out. Im not okay with losing Ridge, and Ridge isnt okay with losing Maggie.
Me: Im sorry about Maggie. I feel awful. Shell come around, though. Five years is a lot to give up for a misunderstanding.
I hit send and finally look up at him. He reads the text, then eyes me. The concentration in his expression makes the breath catch in my lungs.
Ridge: It wasnt a misunderstanding, Sydney. She understood a little too well.
I read his text several times, wishing he would expand on it. What wasnt a misunderstanding? The reason they broke up? His feelings for me? Rather than ask him what he means, I cut to the question I want the answer to the most.
Me: Why are you here?
He works his jaw back and forth before responding.
Ridge: Do you want me to leave?
I look at him and slowly shake my head no. Then I pause and shake my head yes. Then I pause again and just shrug. He smiles endearingly, completely understanding my confusion.
Me: I guess whether or not I want you here depends on why youre here. Are you here because you need me to try to help you win back Maggie? Are you here because you miss me? Are you here because you want to try to work out some sort of friendship?
Ridge: Would I be wrong if I answered none of the above? I dont know why Im here. Part of me misses you so much it hurts, while part of me wishes I never even met you to begin with. I guess today is one of the days I was hurting, so I stole Warrens keys and forced him to give me your address. I didnt think this through or come up with any kind of speech. I just did what my heart needed me to do, which was to see you.
His brutally honest reply melts my heart and pisses me off all at the same time.
Me: What about tomorrow? What if tomorrow is one of the days you wished you never met me? What am I supposed to do then?
The intensity in his stare is unnerving. Maybe hes trying to gauge if that was an angry response. Im not sure if it was or not. Im not sure how I feel about the fact that he doesnt even know why hes here.
He doesnt respond to my text, and it proves one thing: hes having the same internal conflict with himself that Ive been having.
He wants to be with me, but he doesnt.
He wants to love me, but he doesnt know if he should.
He wants to see me, but he knows he shouldnt.
He wants to kiss me, but it would hurt just as much as it did the first time he kissed me and had to walk away. I suddenly feel uncomfortable staring at him. Were way too close together on this couch, yet my body is making it very clear to me that it doesnt think were close enough at all. What its wishing would happen right now are all the things that arent.
Ridge looks away and slowly scans my apartment for a few moments, then returns his attention to his phone.
Ridge: I like your place. Good neighborhood. Seems safe.
I almost laugh at his text and the casual conversation hes trying to make, because I know were no longer in a place for casual conversation. We cant be friends at this point. We also cant be together with so much against us. Casual conversation has no place between us right now, yet I cant bring myself to reply any differently.
Me: I like it here. Thank you for helping me out with the hotel until I could move in.
Ridge: It was the least I could do. Absolutely the least I could do.
Me: Ill pay you back as soon as I get my first paycheck. I got my job back at the campus library, so it should only be another week.