Everything for You (Bergman Brothers #5)(76)

I sniff as I clench my jaw, resenting her faith in me. “I don’t have what you do. This was everything. This was all I had.”

“It was. It was.” Sitting up, she leans in and clasps my hand again. “And it was beautiful. But that doesn’t mean it’s all you can have. I’ve been there, Hayes. I know. I know right now it doesn’t feel believable, it feels like an insurmountable loss. That’s grief, and it’s yours to feel.

“And yet I’m going to tell you as your friend, as someone who’s been where you are, there is more. There is friendship, there is love, there is community, there is a beautiful world out there, yours to know and be known by.”

I blink up, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know how…” My words die off.

She’s quiet, her hand holding mine. “You will. You’re going to figure it out. How to recognize and receive the people who love you, the life waiting for you. And until you’re ready to reach for that, I have one last directive for you, Hayes.”

I force myself to meet her eyes. “What?”

“I want you to stay. I want you to lead. I want you back on that field.”

“I can’t,” I tell her thickly.

“You can.” She leans in. “You will.” Her hand clasps mine the tightest it has yet. “Only from the other side of that white line.” Her warm smile sparks something small and fragile, the smallest flicker of hope. “Who knows. With some new perspective, you might just find exactly what you’re looking for.”





24





GAVIN





Playlist: “I Do,” Susie Suh





Being hospitalized, poked, and scanned until I’m practically radioactive buys me twenty-four hours of reprieve. Twenty-four hours before I have to face Oliver. Before I have to put an end to what barely ever began.

When I hear banging on my back door, dread fills me. Slowly, I walk my way to the door and unlock it.

Like it’s a normal week in the life that he gets verbally harassed and I’m stretchered off a field, Oliver whistles as he breezes by me, carrying a baking sheet stacked high with containers.

“What the fuck is that?” I shove the door shut behind him.

He slides the tray onto my kitchen island. “You changed the code.”

“Intentionally.”

“Honestly, at this point I should just have a key.”

“Hell no.” I walk gingerly toward him, then ease onto a stool because everything hurts too much for me to stay standing, let alone help him. “I’d come home to a rainbow-confetti-blitzed house.”

“That would require you to leave your house in the first place,” he says, throwing me a look.

I flip him off.

He grins.

“As for your suspicions,” he says, “I’ll concede, it’s not outside the realm of possibility or my existing repertoire.”

“I pity your parents.”

“Oh, me too. God bless them. They’re getting all the jewels in their heavenly crown.”

I frown as I watch him unload container after container of food into my refrigerator. “What is all this?”

“It’s this stuff called food, Hayes. You need it to stay alive. Heal. Feel good. Ring a bell?”

“I’m eating,” I grumble.

He cocks an eyebrow, then goes back to rapidly transferring dishes from the tray to my refrigerator. “Peanut butter protein bars and Gatorade do not a complete meal make.”

“I was going to get around to the store.”

My refrigerator, which was indeed virtually empty before this, is now filled. I stare at all the containers in disbelief. “This is obscene.”

“Don’t look at me,” he says. “Well. That’s not quite true. Look at me for those, those, and those”—he points to a row of wide Pyrex containers—“I made those, but the rest is the poker guys, my mom, and a few folks from the team whose culinary capability I trusted. I started a meal sign-up, and these dishes were volunteered in no time. All of them can be frozen once you figure out what you want to eat in the next few days and what you’d like to save. Even Linnie whipped something up, with Mom’s help. She made you your namesake dish—”

“Kladdkaka.” I stare, speechless as he lifts the lid on a cake carrier, revealing what looks like a rich chocolate cake.

“Why does she call me that?” I ask hoarsely.

Oliver clears his throat, avoiding my eyes as he inspects the cake. “Before the first time you came over, she was nervous you’d be grumpy with her. I reassured her you wouldn’t by comparing you to kladdkaka: hard on the outside, but warm and gooey on the inside.”

Carefully, he puts the lid back on.

My heart knots. “These…” I swallow thickly. “People cooked for me?”

Oliver shuts the fridge door behind him, looking at me carefully, like an X-ray down to my soul. “Of course. They love you, Gavin.”

He pushes off the fridge, then walks around the island. Careful not to knock any of my throbbing limbs, he steps in between my spread thighs and cups my face. I flinch, but he doesn’t. His thumbs just sweep along my cheekbones. “Why is that so hard to believe?”