Ridge: How do you feel now that we’re finally together?
Sydney: Incredible. How do you feel?
Ridge: Incredible. And…free? Is that the word I’m looking for?
I’m still reading and rereading his text when he immediately begins typing out another one. He’s shaking his head, like he doesn’t want me to take his previous text the wrong way.
Ridge: I don’t mean free in the sense that we weren’t free before we reunited last night. Or that I felt tied down when I was with Maggie. It’s just…
He pauses for a moment, but I respond to him before he replies because I’m pretty sure I know what he’s trying to say.
Sydney: You’ve been living a life for others since you were a kid. And choosing to be with me was kind of a selfish choice. You never do things for yourself. Sometimes putting yourself first can feel freeing.
He reads my text, and as soon as his eyes flick to mine, I can see we’re on the same page.
Ridge: Exactly. Being with you is the first decision I’ve made simply because I wanted it for myself. I don’t know, I guess I feel like I shouldn’t feel this good about it. But I do. This feels good.
Even though he’s saying all of this like he’s relieved he finally made a selfish choice, there’s still a wrinkle between his furrowed brows like his feelings are also accompanied by guilt. I reach my hand up and smooth it out, then cup his face. “Don’t feel guilty. Everyone wants you to be happy, Ridge. Especially Maggie.”
He nods a little, then kisses the inside of my palm. “I love you.”
He said those words numerous times last night, but hearing them again this morning still feels like he’s saying them for the first time. I smile and pull my hand from his so I can sign, “I love you, too.”
This all feels so surreal—him actually being here with me after so many months of wishing it could be this way. And he’s right. It felt so stifling being apart from him, yet feels liberating now that he’s here. And I know he isn’t saying all of what he just said because he felt like his life with Maggie was in any way something he didn’t want. He loved her. Loves her. What he’s feeling is the result of spending an entire life making decisions that were in the best interest of others and not himself. And I don’t think he regrets any of it. It’s just who he is. And even though I was a selfish decision he finally made for himself, I know he’s still the same selfless person he’s always been, so there’s going to be some residual guilt there. But people need to put themselves first sometimes. If you aren’t living your best life for yourself, you can’t be your best self for those in your life.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, brushing my hair back.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just…” I don’t know how to sign what I want to say, so I grab my phone again.
Sydney: This all feels surreal. I’m still trying to soak it all in. Last night was completely unexpected. I was starting to convince myself that you were getting to a point where you didn’t think we could be together.
Ridge’s eyes shoot to mine and he laughs a little, like my text was completely absurd. Then he leans forward and gives me the softest, sweetest kiss before replying.
Ridge: I haven’t been able to sleep for three months. Warren forced me to eat because I was anxious all the time. I’ve thought about you every minute of every day, but I kept my distance because you said we needed time apart. And even though it killed me, I knew you were right. Since I couldn’t be with you, I forced myself to write music about you.
Sydney: Are there any songs I haven’t heard yet?
Ridge: I played all my new songs for you last night. But I’ve been working on one. I’ve been stuck because the lyrics didn’t feel quite right. But last night after you fell asleep, the lyrics started flowing like water. I wrote them down and sent them to Brennan as soon as I got them down on paper.
He wrote an entire song after I fell asleep last night? I narrow my eyes at him and then reply.
Sydney: Have you even slept yet?
He shrugs. “I’ll nap later,” he says, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Keep an eye on your email today,” he says as he leans in for another kiss.
I love it when Brennan makes rough cuts of the songs Ridge writes. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of dating a musician.
Ridge rolls off the couch and then pulls me up with him. “I’ll leave so you can get ready for work.”
I nod and kiss him goodbye, but when I try to walk to my bedroom, he doesn’t release his grip on my hand. I turn around and he’s looking at me expectantly.