Page 66 of Only and Forever

He peers my way again and holds my eyes. “You and me, Lu. We’ll be brave together. Little bit by little bit, okay? No pressure to do or be something by a certain date, no shoulds or judgments or deadlines. Just you and me, trying our best, cheering each other on. How’s that for a deal?”

For the first time in two days, a smile lifts my mouth. Small, halting. But there. I hold out my hand, palm up, resting on thesofa. Viggo glances from my hand to me, a smile brightening his face, too. Slowly, he rests his hand on mine, wrapping it in his warm, steady grip.

I hold his eyes when I make my promise, to him, to myself.

“Deal.”

NINETEEN

Viggo

Playlist: “Running for Cover,” Ivan & Alyosha

I walk into the kitchen the next morning, scrubbing a hand over my face. Fill the kettle, set it on the burner, turn the dial, clicking on the gas. The flame swooshes to life.

When I reach for the coffee beans, I catch a reflection in the cabinet’s glass—a person in my kitchen. I scream as I spin around, frantically reaching for a weapon from the crock of utensils I keep on the counter. I come up with a rubber spatula.

My brain finally processes that I’m not about to be murdered. This is just an unusually early morning appearance by Tallulah.

She wiggles a finger in her ear, grimacing. “Hell of a shriek you’ve got, Bergman.”

Hand over my pounding heart, I glare at her. “Hell of a scare you gave me, Clarke.”

“Sorry.” She brings a glass of orange juice to her lips, takes a small sip, then a bigger one.

My glare melts to a worried frown as I watch her set down the glass. Her hand is shaking. My gaze snaps up to her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Woke up low,” she says. “I’m fine.”

My chest is tight. I watch her slip her shaking hand beneath the counter, hiding evidence that she is definitelynotfine. “Tallulah.”

“Viggo.” She reaches quickly for the bag of fruit snacks sittingon the counter, scoops up a handful, pops it in her mouth, and returns her hand to beneath the counter.

A few fruit snacks fell out of her unsteady grip, scattered across the counter. I lean in on my elbows, then sweep them my way. Picking one up, I pop it in my mouth and chew. “Let’s try that again,” I tell her. “What’s wrong?”

She chews her mouthful, taking her sweet time. Finally she swallows. Her eyes narrow as she sips her orange juice. I watch her shaky hand the whole time, before my gaze returns to her face. “Woke up with low blood sugar.” She sets the empty glass on the counter. “Don’t feel great right now. But the orange juice and fruit snacks are helping. Iwill befine. Happy now?”

“Not happy you don’t feel great, but happy I know what’s going on.”

“Well, if you’re happy, then my work is finished; I can go back to bed. My sole purpose for the day has been accomplished already.”

I snort. “Smartass.”

Tallulah smiles, revealing those dimples deep in her cheeks. Right as she does, the room brightens, the morning light ratcheting up. I feel like that light has seeped right through my skin.

Our eyes hold. Tallulah glances away first. “Thanks for asking,” she says. “But you don’t need to worry. I have a lot of practice managing this.”

“I respect that.” The tea kettle starts to whistle. I turn the flame low. I want the water to stay hot, but I still have to grind the beans before I can start our pour-over. “I just... care about you, Lula. I want to know when you don’t feel good and be there for you, however I can.”

Tallulah swallows thickly but stays silent.

I pour the beans into the grinder, snap on the lid, and hit the button. The satisfying sound and scent of crushed coffee beans fill the air. I try to focus on that, not the pinch in my chest, as I thinkabout how much more I want to know about this disease she lives with, how inadequate my initial research feels now. While she lives with me, I want to know more—Ishouldknow more. It’s simply... responsible roommateship.

I open my phone and set a reminder to do some reading on it tonight. If I don’t set a reminder, it’ll slide out of my head, even though it’s important to me. My brain doesn’t just keep every ball in the air that I want it to, even when all those balls matter deeply to me. Reminders are my best friend for staying on top of priorities.

“So.” Tallulah clears her throat. “How are we looking for the soft opening?”

I invert the grinder, pouring the coffee grounds into the filter resting in the carafe. “Change of plans. No soft opening.”