Maybe Now (Maybe #2)

by Colleen Hoover

  I hold up my hand, interrupting her. “Maggie, it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t have invited me here if you were still hung up on someone else.”

  She looks relieved by my comment.

  “My timing couldn’t be shittier,” I say. “But Chrissy, my ex-wife, just called. Justice is sick, and she got called in to work. I have to head back home.”

  There isn’t a single shred of doubt in Maggie’s expression. Only concern. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just a stomach bug.”

  She nods, but I can tell she’s somewhat disappointed that I’m leaving. So am I, though. I pull her to me to give her a hug goodbye. She molds to my chest, making it difficult to want to release her.

  “Downfall of two doctors sharing a child,” I say. “You’re on call even on the weekends you aren’t on call.”

  She pulls back and looks up at me. I slide my hands to her cheeks and bend down to give her a kiss. I can’t help but notice that our physical interaction is way ahead of our relationship. We aren’t even dating, but the way I hug her and kiss her and respond to her would indicate otherwise. It’s why I make sure our kiss goodbye is nothing more than a peck. The last thing I want to do is overwhelm her again. “Have fun today.”

  She smiles. “I will. I hope Justice feels better soon.”

  “Thank you. And send me some pictures of the caves. I’ll call you tonight after you’re back if it’s not too late.”

  “I would like that,” she says. “Want me to walk you out?”

  “I would like that.”

  •••

  One would think that a man who regularly slices through people’s chests wouldn’t be bothered by a little vomit.

  Not the case with me.

  I’m convinced Justice has vomited more today than he did the first five years of his life. Or maybe it just seems that way because he’s older and bigger and produces more vomit, but fuck, there was so much vomit. I can’t be happier that it’s over. For now. There can’t possibly be anything left in the poor kid to even puke up.

  When I’m finished scrubbing the bathroom, showering, and checking on Justice, I finally settle into the couch to catch up on my conversation with Maggie. They returned from the caves a little over an hour ago, and she sent me a few pictures. I told her I’d FaceTime with her as soon as I got Justice to bed.

  She answers almost immediately. The smile on her face disappoints me, but only because I’m not seeing it in person.

  “How is Justice?”

  I love that she asks this before we even say hello.

  “Asleep. And empty. I think he’s expelled everything he’s eaten since January.”

  She makes a face. “Poor kid.”

  She’s lying on her bed, her hair spread out over the pillow. She’s holding the phone above her. It’s the same view I had of her earlier today as I was hovering over her, preparing to kiss her. I force the thought out of my head before she sees through me. “Was the trip as fun as your pictures made it seem?”

  She nods. “It was. Well, mostly.” She pushes the hair away from her forehead to reveal a small bandage near her temple. “Warren thought it would be a good idea to hide from us and then scare us. I turned really fast, and me and Bridgette butted heads.” She laughs, smoothing her hair back in place. “Warren felt so bad, he bought us all dinner. I mean, it was Taco Bell, but still. Warren never pays for anything ever.”

  I smile. I like that she seems to have had fun. Happiness looks really good on her. “You ready for the big move tomorrow?”

  She nods, rolling onto her side as she lowers the phone. “I’m ready to have my own bathroom again.”

  “I’d offer to come help, but Chrissy is on call until Monday. I should probably keep Justice at my place until he’s feeling better so there isn’t a lot of back and forth.”

  “We have plenty of help. I don’t have a whole lot to move, anyway. But I’ll FaceTime you tomorrow night and show you my new place after we’re finished.”

  “I’d like it better if I could see it in person.”

  She grins. “When’s your next day off?”

  “I have an early day on Wednesday. I could drive to you…we could order take-out. Can’t spend the night this time, but I could stay a few hours.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll cook for you,” she says.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a home-cooked meal?”

  She smiles again and then follows her smile up with a sigh. I open my mouth to tell her how pretty she looks, but I’m interrupted when Justice walks into the room. “Hey, buddy,” I say, looking up from my phone. “You feeling okay?”

  Justice nods but doesn’t look at me. He walks to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator.

  “I’ll let you go,” Maggie whispers, pulling my attention back to my phone.

  I smile appreciatively at her. “Call me tomorrow when you’re all settled.”

  “I will. Goodnight.”

  I stare at her a moment, not quite ready to end my conversation with her. But I also don’t want to be on the phone with her while Justice is in the room. “Goodnight, Maggie,” I whisper. She waves and then ends the call. I toss my phone on the couch and then walk into the kitchen with Justice.

  He’s standing with the refrigerator door open, and he’s opening a slice of American cheese. He takes a bite out of it, leaving the slice dangling from his mouth while he grabs the deli meat. He pulls out a slice of ham and shoves it in his mouth, along with the rest of the slice of cheese.

  “It would be easier if you just let me make you a sandwich,” I offer.

  Justice grabs the bag of ham and closes the fridge. “I couldn’t wait that long. I feel like I might die of starvation.” He grabs a bag of chips and sits down at the bar with the ham in front of him. He opens the bag of chips and puts a few in his mouth. “Who were you talking to?”

  “I take it you’re feeling better.”

  “If you count starving to death as feeling better. Who were you talking to?” he repeats.

  “Maggie.”

  “The same girl you went to see in the hospital?”

  This is why I didn’t want to be on the phone with her while he was in the room. He doesn’t shy away from anything. And I’m a big believer in being honest with him, so I nod. “Same one.”

  “Why was she in the hospital?”

  “She has Cystic Fibrosis.”

  “That sounds serious.”

  “It is. You should research it.”

  Justice rolls his eyes because he knows I’m being serious. Every time he asks a question that I tell him to research, I always follow up with him the next day to make sure he did. Then I correct him on anything he learned that was inaccurate. That’s the downside of Google. There’s a lot of information, but you have to know how to weed through the bullshit. I think that’s really why I always have him research answers to a lot of his questions—so that he can learn how to properly navigate the bullshit.

  “Is Maggie your girlfriend?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “But you’ve had sex with her?”

  The combination of my eleven-year-old asking if I’ve had sex with someone while chewing on a mouthful of ham is both odd and entertaining. “What?”

  “You mentioned something about not being able to spend the night with her again. Which means you’ve spent the night with her before. Which probably means you’ve had sex with her because Cody says that’s what adults do when they spend the night with each other.”

  “Cody is eleven. He isn’t always right.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  I feel guilty because I’m currently wishing Justice were still in bed sick. “Can we put this conversation on pause until you’re about fourteen?”

  Justice rolls his eyes. “You say you like that I’m a curious kid, but then you never want to feed my curiosity.”

  “I like that you’re curious. I like feeding your curiosity. But sometimes you’r
e too hungry.” I open the refrigerator and grab him a water. “Drink this. You haven’t had enough liquid today.”

  Justice grabs the water from me. “Fine. But on my fourteenth birthday, be prepared to revisit this conversation.”

  I laugh. God, I love this kid. But at this rate, I’m not sure I’ll make it until he’s fourteen. His curiosity is going to kill the cat. I’m the cat.

  “You want me to make you something else to eat?”

  Justice nods and closes the deli meat. “I’ll take some cinnamon toast. Can we watch Signs?”

  I want to tell him no because the idea of watching one of his favorite movies for the twentieth time sounds excruciating. But I know before long, the last thing he’ll want to do is watch movies with his dad. As a father, I’ve learned to take what I can get while I can get it, because none of the phases a child goes through last forever. Eventually, the things you once found repetitive and irritating become the very things you’d give anything to repeat.

  “Yeah, we can watch Signs. Get it started while I make your toast.”

  I scan the radio stations in search of a song I can sing to. I’m in the mood to sing. My windows are down, the weather is gorgeous, and it occurred to me on my way home from work that I haven’t been in the mood to sing at the top of my lungs in my car in a long time. I don’t know if it’s because of the trajectory my life took over the past year, or if it’s college, or a combination of both. But something shifted this past week. It’s as if my life was a roller coaster, speeding through dark tunnels and spinning through loops with my entire body being jerked left to right and front to back and then…whoosh. The emotional roller coaster is coming to a smooth, slow, comforting part of the ride where I can just release a breath and know that I’m safe and everything inside of me is beginning to settle.

  That’s what this feels like. My life is finally beginning to feel settled.

  After helping move Maggie in on Sunday, we were all exhausted. We sprawled out on her living room furniture, me and Ridge on one couch, Maggie and Bridgette on the other, and Warren on the floor. We all watched the season finale of The Bachelor—a show none of us has seen a single episode of all season, but we couldn’t find the remote and no one felt like changing the channel. Warren got really into it and started arguing with the TV when he felt the guy picked the girl Warren would have bet against if Warren had money.

  When it was over, Ridge and I walked back to his apartment and crashed for the night. I was too exhausted to drive home, and we were both too exhausted to even shower. We walked straight to the bed and fell on top of it. We must have fallen asleep right away without even removing our clothes, because I woke up in the middle of the night to him slipping off my shoes and pulling the covers over me.

  It’s been three days since then, and it’s all just felt so right. So good. It’s strange how I don’t even have my shit together yet, being a college student living paycheck to paycheck. But I feel like I would be happy with my life if it stayed this way forever. It goes to show that a person really doesn’t need much if they’re surrounded by the right people. Loved by the right people.

  If I could bottle up the love I have for my life today, I would. It’s a love worth saving.

  I pull into my complex and grab my phone to check it as I exit my car. There’s still no text from Ridge. He told me he’d text when he finished up with work today, but it’s after seven and I haven’t heard from him.

  Me: You coming over tonight?

  Ridge: Do you want me to?

  Me: I always want you to.

  I insert my key into the lock and open my apartment door. I’m staring down at my phone, waiting for Ridge to text me back, when someone grabs me from behind. I scream, but realize almost immediately that it’s Ridge, just by the feel of his arms wrapped around me. I spin in his arms, and he’s smiling down at me.

  “I’m glad you didn’t say no, because I’m already here.”

  I laugh. My heartbeat is erratic. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here, but I couldn’t be happier to see him right now. He kisses me, and it somehow makes this day even better.

  I can’t even stand myself right now. I don’t recall ever being this in love with my life before today, and I don’t know how to get used to this new version of myself. I got so used to being so full of gloom for so long, it’s like I’m discovering a part of me that didn’t exist before this month.

  Or maybe it always existed…I just never had anyone who could pull out the best parts of me like Ridge does.

  I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. His hands cradle my cheeks and he kisses me back, walking me until my back meets the counter. We kiss for a good minute before I recognize that my entire apartment smells like a restaurant. I pull away from him and turn around to find dinner prepared on the stove. When I look back at Ridge, he’s smiling at me. “Surprise. I cooked.”

  “What’s the special occasion?”

  “There doesn’t need to be a special occasion for me to want to make you happy. I’ll be treating you like this for the rest of your life.”

  I like the sound of that.

  Ridge leans in and plants quick kisses down my neck before pulling away and walking to the stove. “It’ll be ready in five minutes if you want to change.”

  I smile on my way to my bedroom. He knows me too well. He knows that no matter what time of day it is, as soon as I walk through the door, I like to be comfortable. That means getting rid of my bra the minute I get home. It means getting out of my jeans and pulling on a pair of pajama pants and one of his T-shirts. It means pulling my hair up in a knot and having absolutely zero care about anything but being as comfortable as I can possibly be.

  I love that he loves that about me.

  When I walk back into the kitchen, he’s setting the table. He made baked chicken and vegetables with a side of risotto. I honestly don’t know that my kitchen has ever experienced this kind of meal before. I rarely cook full meals because it’s just me. Sometimes Ridge and me. But it’s rare that we go all out and do something as drastic as use the oven. Microwave, sure. Stovetop, maybe. But oven means a serious meal, and we haven’t had much time for that. I sign and tell him it looks delicious, and then proceed to eat half of it without stopping. It tastes even better than it looks.

  “Seriously, Ridge. It’s delicious.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I can’t cook like this.”

  “Yes, you can. It just tastes better to you because you didn’t make it. That’s how cooking works.”

  I laugh. Hopefully that’s true. “How was work today?”

  He shrugs. “Played catch-up. But Brennan texted and said he needs me to play a show with him because they’re short a guitarist next weekend.”

  “Where at?”

  “Dallas. You want to come? Make a weekend of it?”

  I nod. Watching Ridge on stage is my favorite thing. “Absolutely. Will Sadie be there?”

  Ridge gives me a look to let me know he doesn’t know who I’m talking about.

  “Sadie the singer,” I clarify. “The girl who started opening for Brennan. I think he likes her.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m sure she will be.” He grins. “That should be interesting.”

  From what I’ve learned about Brennan, he doesn’t get crushes on girls very often, which makes me invested in seeing how this turns out. I hope I get to meet her.

  That thought leads me to my next thought. I can’t visit Dallas without stopping to see my parents. “Since we’ll be in Dallas…do you want to have dinner with my parents?”

  Ridge answers immediately. “I would love to meet your parents, Sydney.”

  I don’t know why, but that sentence made my heart melt a little. I smile and take a drink.

  “Have you told your parents about me?” he asks.

  “I told my mother I have a boyfriend. She asked me twenty questions.”

  He grins. “Only twenty?”

  “Maybe twenty-five.”

  �
��What did you say? How did you describe me?”

  “I said you’re very talented. And very cute. And good at pranks. And good in bed.”

  Ridge laughs. “I’m sure you did.” He leans back in his chair, casually bumping my knee with his. He’s staring at his plate, scooting around the rest of his risotto. “Did you tell them I’m deaf?”

  I didn’t tell them, but for no other reason than it just didn’t come up, and I honestly didn’t think about it. “Should I have?”

  Ridge shrugs. “Might be worth mentioning. I don’t like to catch people off guard if I can avoid it. I like for them to have a heads up.”

  “You didn’t give me a heads up.”

  “It was different with you.”

  “How?”

  He tilts his head and contemplates his answer. Then he picks up his phone, which means he wants to explain something that he feels he can get across better in text than if he were to verbalize.

  Ridge: In most cases, I like to warn people before we meet. It makes for less of an uncomfortable moment when they find out. I didn’t warn you because it felt like…I don’t know. It was just different with you.

  Sydney: A good different?

  Ridge: The best kind of different there can possibly be. My whole life I’ve been the deaf guy. It comes first with every person I ever meet. Being deaf and how a person will react to that is my first thought in every new conversation I have. It’s most likely the first thought of the person I’m having the conversation with. It defines how they treat me, how they react to me, and how I react to them. But with you, I sometimes forget that part of myself. With you, I forget the one thing that defines me to everyone else. With you…I’m just me.

  I’m glad he texted all that, because it’s one more thing he’s said to me that I want to keep track of and remember forever.

  “My parents are going to love you just as much as I do.”

  Ridge smiles for a moment, but the smile is fleeting. He tries to hide it as he reaches for his drink, but I saw the split-second conflict in his eyes. It makes me wonder if he’s only agreeing to meet them to appease me. What if he isn’t ready to take that step? It’s not like we’ve been dating long at all.