Why was I so damn careless?
Twenty-four years I’ve lived without ever experiencing this type of hatred. It’s the type of hatred that completely overwhelms the conscience. It’s the type of hatred that excuses otherwise inexcusable actions. It’s the type of hatred that can be felt in every facet of the body and in every inch of the soul. I’ve never known it until this moment. I’ve never hated anything or anyone with as much intensity as I hate myself right now.
Chapter Twenty
Sydney
“Are you crying?” Bridgette asks without compassion as she comes through the front door. Warren follows closely behind her, but he pauses the second his eyes meet mine.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting motionless on the couch, but it still isn’t long enough for reality to have been absorbed just yet. I’m still hoping this is a dream. Or a nightmare. This isn’t how things were supposed to turn out.
“Sydney?” Warren says hesitantly. He knows something is wrong, because I’m sure my swollen, bloodshot eyes clearly give me away.
I attempt to form an answer, but I fail to come up with one. As much a part of this as I am, I still feel that Ridge and Maggie’s situation isn’t mine to be sharing.
Luckily, Warren doesn’t have to ask me what’s wrong, because I’m spared by Ridge’s presence. He’s barging through the front door, taking both Bridgette’s and Warren’s attention off of me.
He pushes between the two of them and heads straight for his room. He swings open the door, then comes out through the bathroom seconds later. He looks at Warren and signs something. Warren shrugs and signs back, but I can’t follow their conversation at all.
When Ridge responds again, Warren looks directly at me. “What does he mean?” Warren asks me.
I shrug. “I failed to learn sign language between now and the last time we spoke, Warren. How the hell should I know?”
I don’t know where my unwarranted sarcasm is coming from, but I feel Warren should have anticipated that one.
He shakes his head. “Where’s Maggie, Sydney?” Warren points at the counter toward Ridge’s computer. “He says she had his computer, so she had to come by here after she left the hospital.”
I look at Ridge to answer but can’t deny the fact that jealousy is coursing through me at watching his reaction when it comes to Maggie. “I don’t know where she went. All she did was walk in, set your computer down, and grab her things. She’s been gone for half an hour.”
Warren is signing everything I’m saying to Ridge. When he finishes, Ridge runs a frustrated hand through his hair, then takes a step toward me. His eyes are angry and hurt, and he begins signing with forceful movements of his hands. His obvious anger makes me wince, but his disappointment in me fills me with my own share of anger.
“He wants to know how you could just let her leave,” Warren says.
I immediately stand up and look Ridge directly in the eye. “What did you expect me to do, Ridge? Lock her in the damn closet? You can’t be mad at me for this! I’m not the one who failed to delete messages I wouldn’t want someone else to read!”
I don’t wait for Warren to finish signing for Ridge. I walk to my bedroom and slam the door behind me, then drop down onto my bed. Moments later, I hear the door to Ridge’s bedroom slam shut, too. The sounds don’t stop there, though. I hear things crashing against his bedroom walls, one by one, as he takes his frustration out on any inanimate object in his path.
I don’t hear the knock through the sounds coming from Ridge’s bedroom. My door opens, and Warren slips inside. He shuts my bedroom door, then leans his back against it. “What happened?” he asks.
I turn my head to face the other direction. I don’t want to answer him, and I don’t want to look at him, because I know anything I say to him will only cause him to be disappointed in Ridge and me. I don’t want him to be disappointed in Ridge.