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.