Me: Don’t thank me, Sydney. You shouldn’t thank me, because I failed miserably at trying not to fall in love with you.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and hit send. Saying what I’ve just said to her fills me with more guilt than the night I kissed her. Words can sometimes have a far greater effect on a heart than a kiss.
Sydney: I failed first.
I read her last message, and the finality of our imminent good-bye hits me full-force. I feel it in every single part of me, and I’m shocked at the reaction I’m having to it. I lean my head against the wall behind me and try to imagine my world before Sydney entered it. It was a good world. A consistent world. But then she came along and shook my world upside down as if it were a fragile, breakable snow globe. Now that she’s leaving, it feels as if the snow is about to settle, and my whole world will be upright and still and consistent again. As much as that should make me feel at ease, it actually terrifies me. I’m scared to death that I’ll never again feel any of the things I felt during the little time she’s been in my world.
Anyone who has made this much of an impact deserves a proper good-bye.
I stand and walk back into Maggie’s hospital room. She’s still asleep, so I walk over to her bed, give her a light kiss on the forehead, and leave her a note explaining that I’m heading to the apartment to pack a few things before she’s released.
Then I leave to go and give the other half of my heart a proper good-bye.
? ? ?
I’m outside Sydney’s bedroom door, preparing to knock. We’ve said everything that needs to be said and even a lot that probably shouldn’t have been said, but I can’t not see her one last time before I go. She’ll be gone by the time I get back from San Antonio. I have no plans to contact her after today, so the fact that I know this is definitely good-bye is pressing on the walls of my chest, and it fucking hurts like hell.
If I were to look at my situation from an outsider’s point of view, I would be telling myself to forget about Sydney’s feelings, that my loyalty should lie solely with Maggie. I would be telling myself to leave and that Sydney doesn’t deserve a good-bye, even after all we’ve been through.
Is life really that black-and-white, though? Can a simple right or wrong define my situation? Do Sydney’s feelings not count in this mix somewhere despite my loyalty to Maggie? It doesn’t seem right just to let her go. But it’s unfair to Maggie not to just let her go.
I don’t know how I ever got myself into this mess to begin with, but I know the only way to end it is to break off all contact with Sydney. I knew the moment I held her hand last night that there wasn’t a flaw in the world that could have stopped my heart from feeling what it was feeling.
I’m not proud of the fact that Maggie doesn’t make up all of my heart anymore. I fought it. I fought it hard, because I didn’t want it to happen. Now that the fight is finally coming to an end, I’m not even sure if I’m winning or losing. I’m not even sure which side I’m rooting for, much less which side I was on.
I knock lightly on Sydney’s door, then place my palms flat against the doorframe and look down, half of me hoping she refuses to open it and half of me restraining myself from breaking down the damn door to get to her.
Within seconds, we’re face-to-face for what I know is the last time. Her blue eyes are wide with fear and surprise and maybe even a small amount of relief when she sees me standing in front of her. She doesn’t know how to feel about seeing me here, but her confusion is comforting. It’s good to know I’m not alone in this, that we’re both sharing the same mixture of emotions. We’re in this together.
Sydney and me.
We’re just two completely confused souls, scared of a much unwanted yet crucial good-bye.
Chapter Nineteen
Sydney