Everything for You (Bergman Brothers #5)(3)

Among a few other close friends are Rooney’s parents, too. And though they’re divorced, they share what seems like an amicable dance between friends now, their loving gazes directed at their daughter.

In short, I’m surrounded by all kinds of happy endings, which is lovely…but also terrible.

“Okay.” Viggo plops beside me and swaps out my beer for a glass of water. “I didn’t know Axel was going to surprise Rooney with renewing their vows in front of their families and closest friends.”

I rub my chest, where it still aches with the knot of joy and sadness that’s been there since I watched them promise themselves to each other again just a few hours ago. “You told me it was only gonna be a party.”

Oh boy. My words are sloppy. I sound very drunk.

Focusing on my diction, I try to sound more sober as I tell my brother, “They already got married. It was just supposed to be a party.”

“I know, bud,” Viggo mutters, cupping my neck, an affectionate, steadying gesture that’s common in our family. Tipping back his beer, he takes a long pull. “But it seems our surly, silent oldest brother turned into a full-fledged romantic somewhere in the past three months and had the swoony idea to invite the most important people in their lives for an intimate gathering so they could share a wedding with us after all.”

I glance back at Axel, who’s holding Rooney. He kisses her so long, they stop dancing, until their rescue dog, Harry, bounds up and breaks them apart with a cheerful bark.

I shut my eyes again. “I’m happy for them,” I whisper.

“I know you are,” Viggo says. “It’s still hard to see though, and that’s okay. You and me, Ollie, we do nothing by halves. You fell in love, and you fell hard. Healing from heartache takes longer for big hearts like ours.”

As I open my eyes again, they land on Axel’s close friends, Parker and Bennett, who dance with their daughter, Skyler, nestled between them. That’s what I used to think I’d have with Bryce. What I dreamed about.

I know I’m young, and I know not everyone finds their forever-person when they’re a sophomore in college. But I was so sure I had. We had everything I thought you were supposed to—we talked easily and got along right away. Bryce was all play and fun, which balanced my brutally disciplined work ethic both on the field and in the classroom. It was easy with him, straightforward. Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? When did I miss the signs that my boyfriend was losing interest? That his eyes had started to wander?

My chest tightens as those unanswered questions, those obsessive worries, shout over each other in my brain until the familiar, anxious noise inside my skull threatens to make me scream.

I suck in a breath and exhale steadily, coaxing myself to focus on sensations around me—the cool air on my skin, the sound of soft music nearby. A trick my therapist taught me since I realized those “anxious days” I’d been having were every day, that anxiety wasn’t just a byproduct of my busy, high-pressure schedule, but a reality of my brain, my body, my life.

While I was learning to cope, while I started trying anti-anxiety meds, Bryce was my fun, lighthearted person. My happy place. I thought I knew that so fully, so completely. And then with one sweep of remorseless infidelity, down came the house of cards.

“I never wanna feel like this,” I mutter. “Never again.”

Viggo’s quiet for a moment. “I know. I don’t want you to either.”

I shut my eyes. The world’s starting to spin as I say to Viggo, “Why’s he have to play on the team and be in half my classes? I’d be fine if I could just…get away from him.”

“And to address that, my offer still stands.”

I snort a drunken laugh, blinking open my eyes. “While I ’preciate your offer to prank Bryce so bad he’d leave UCLA, I’m pretty sure two-thirds of what you have planned is felonious, and I don’t want you to go to jail.”

Viggo scoffs. “I’m a stealthy guy. I could get away with it.”

“Or I could say yes to the Galaxy’s offer and get away from it all.”

His head whips my way. “What?”

I tuck my lips between my teeth. “Shooot. I said that out loud.”

Viggo turns to face me fully. “I’m not surprised they want you. I’m surprised you’re considering it. You’ve always said you wanted to complete your degree, no matter what.”

“I did.” I feel unsteady, so I lean back against the house. The world’s spinning even faster now. I hiccup drunkenly. “I wanted—I want—my pre-med degree.”

At least, I think I do.

Do I?

My brother’s quiet for a minute. “Why do you do it, Ollie? Work so hard? You know how good you are at soccer, how much you love it. When was becoming a doctor ever a real plan for you, when going pro was inevitable?”

“It wasn’t inevitable.” I try to sip the water Viggo gave me and mostly miss my mouth.

Viggo rolls his eyes. “Yes it was. And I’ve never understood why you’ve been busting your ass since freshman year of high school to prepare for something you never really intended to pursue.”

I laugh emptily. I can tell Viggo almost everything, but not this. How hard it is to be the fifth son, to live in the shadow of a decorated military veteran and physician father and four older brothers who, each in their own way, are profoundly capable and talented and confident. How difficult it’s been to find myself amid all of that, to feel seen and…maybe just a little admired?