Page 112 of Only and Forever

God, I love her. And I don’t know if she loves me, if she even believes in love itself.

I groan, heart aching, eyes wet. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t process what to do with myself anymore. Tearing out of bed, I drag on clothes distractedly, then rummage around for my phone. No text from Tallulah. I scour the bed. No note.

I whip open the door, rush down the stairs to a houseful of family. No Tallulah to be seen. Panic blanks my thoughts, leaves me standing in the entranceway of the house, chest heaving, struggling for breath. “H-has anyone seen Lula?”

A sea of frowns, heads glancing around, murmured nos.

“I’m sure she’s here,” Willa says. “Maybe with Charlie?”

My mom shakes her head. “I just checked on Charlie. She wasn’t there. But I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

I run toward the front of the house, peering out the windows, searching for some sign of Tallulah. Nothing. I turn back, my chest tightening, my throat thick.

Linnea frowns at me from her bowl of cereal. “You okay, Uncle Viggo?”

I shake my head. “I need... I...” My voice cracks.

Oliver puts down the knife he was holding, hovering over chopped herbs, and starts toward me. “V, you’re okay. Take a deep breath.”

“I can’t,” I gasp, falling into my brother as he wraps his arms around me.

There’s a quiet murmur of voices, chairs scraping, cups being set down. A door opens. I’m guided by my brother’s strong arm down the hall to an open door.

That’s when I realize where I am, what’s happening.

I stand at the threshold of the basement, watching my brothers trundle down the steps, knowing what I’m about to face, what’s been coming for me for years, what’s finally here.

My own Bergman Brothers Summit.

—

“Welcome, Viggo,” Oliver says quietly, “to your very own Bergman Brothers Summit.”

I sit, slumped over on a plastic storage bin, head in my hands. “Go ahead, gloat. Tell me I had it coming. It’s what I deserve, after what I’ve put you all through over the years.”

Silence rings in the basement. I pick my head up, trying to breathe properly, to steel myself to face them. I’m met by solemn faces, not a trace of triumph in their expressions.

“Well, technically,” Ryder says, “I have yet to earn a Bergman Brothers Summit.”

Everyone stares at him sharply.

Ryder grimaces. “Sorry. That was not, uh... that was not helpful, right now.”

“Not at all.” Oliver smacks his shoulder.

Ryder scowls. “I said I was sorry.”

Tears well in my eyes.

Aiden rushes toward me, dragging me up and into his arms.“This is not what I pictured,” he mutters, “when I envisioned relishing this moment.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I mutter into his shoulder.

His hand comes to my neck, clasping it gently. “That was my attempt at lightening the mood.”

I huff an empty laugh against his shoulder, blinking away tears. Slowly I pull away and wipe my face dry.

Ren peers up at me from his seat on a big cardboard box, his face serious. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on, Viggo?”

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