I clench my fists again, wondering why in the hell I ever had those conversations with Sydney in the first place. Or why I failed to delete them. I never thought Maggie would be in a position to read them. I guess in a way, I just didn’t feel guilty. The way I’ve felt toward Sydney wasn’t something I wanted to happen, but the feelings are there, and refusing to act on them since our initial kiss has taken a hell of a lot of effort. In an oddly sadistic way, I’ve actually been proud of myself for being able to fight it the way I have.
But Maggie won’t see that side of it, and I completely understand. I k now Maggie, and if she read all the messages, she’s more upset about the connection I’ve made with Sydney than she is over the fact that I k issed her. The feelings I have for Sydney aren’t something I’m sure I can talk my way out of.
I grab my bag and my phone and head into the kitchen to pack the laptop. When I reach the counter, I notice a piece of paper peeking out from the computer. I find a sticky note stuck to the screen.
Ridge,
It was never my intention to read your personal stuff, but when I opened your laptop, it was all right there in front of me. I read all of it, and I wish I never saw it. Please give me time to process everything before you show up. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to talk in a few days.
Maggie
A few days?
God, please don’t let her be serious. There’s no way my heart will survive this for a few days. I’ll be lucky if I make it through the end of today knowing how I’ve made her feel.
I toss my bag back toward my bedroom door since I won’t need it for a while. I lean forward in defeat and rest my elbows on the bar, crumpling the note up in my fist. I stare down at the laptop before me.
Piece of shit computer.
Why the hell didn’t I have a password on it? Why the hell didn’t I take it with me when I left the hospital? Why the hell didn’t I delete everything? Why the hell did I even write anything to Sydney in the first place?
I’ve never hated an inanimate object as much as I hate this computer. I slam the screen shut and bring my fist down on top of it with all my strength. I wish I could hear it crack. I wish I could hear the sound my fist makes each time I bring it down forcefully. I want to hear it crushed beneath my fist the same way my heart feels crushed inside my chest.
I stand up straight and pick the laptop up, then slam it down on the bar. I see Warren exit his bedroom out of the corner of my eye, but I’m too pissed to care if I’m making too much noise. I continue to pick the laptop up and slam it against the bar over and over, but it doesn’t diminish the hatred I feel for it in the least, and it also doesn’t do enough damage to the casing. Warren walks toward the kitchen and heads to a cabinet. He reaches inside and grabs something, then walks over to me. I pause my attack on the computer and look up to see him holding out a hammer. I gladly take it, then step back and bring the hammer down against the laptop with all my might. This time, I can actually see the cracks appear with each hit.
Much better.
I hit it over and over and watch as pieces fly in all directions. I’m also leaving a hefty amount of damage on the bar beneath my mangled computer, but I don’t give a shit. Countertops are replaceable. What this computer destroyed of Maggie isn’t.
When there isn’t much left of the computer to destroy, I finally drop the hammer on the bar. I’m out of breath. I turn and slide down to the floor with my back against the cabinets.
Warren walks around me and sits on the floor in front of me, resting his back against the wall behind him. “Feel better?” he signs.
I shake my head. I don’t feel better, I just feel worse. Now I know for a fact that it’s not the laptop I’m mad at. It’s me. I’m mad at myself.
“Anything I can do to help?”
I ponder his question. The only thing that could help me get Maggie back is to prove to her that there’s nothing going on between me and Sydney. In order to prove that to her, I need to not have any interaction with Sydney whatsoever. That’s kind of hard with her in the very next room.