Ever After Always (Bergman Brothers Book 3)

by Chloe Liese

  I rub my forehead, regret and sadness twisting my heart. “Some things aren’t easily fixed.”

  Mom squeezes my hand. “I never said it was easy, sweetheart. This is how it goes. People who love each other hurt each other, too. What matters is that they learn and they try their best not to hurt each other that way again.”

  I sit up, my heart pounding. Mom’s right.

  I have to go home. I need to tell Freya that I’m sorry, to reassure her that this little way she hurt me isn’t insurmountable, not at all. I stand, fumbling in my pockets for my keys. “I have to go back. I have to apologize—”

  Mom stops me as she stands, too. “Aiden, you’re exhausted. It’s an hour drive home. Stay here, sleep. Wake up early tomorrow and drive back, then.”

  “I can’t, Mom. Not when she’s alone and hurting. I have to go home.”

  Smiling up at me, she clasps my hand and squeezes hard. “You always were stubborn. At least let me make you a cup of tea for the road.”

  I let myself into the house as dawn starts to lighten the sky, closing the door quietly and watching for Freya’s shoes. But they’re stacked neatly on the shoe organizer. I almost pick them up and set them in the middle of the floor, right where they belong. Because the messy, beautiful woman I love is home.

  Walking softly down the hall, I set my bag on the floor and cross our bedroom. Freya lies curled up in bed, the comforter tucked under her chin. Easing cautiously onto the edge of the mattress, I watch her steady breathing and slip a soft, blonde whisp off of her forehead. It’s impossible to miss the signs of crying. The tip of her nose is still pink, her eyes faintly swollen. I want to kiss them. I want to kiss every hurt away. Especially the ones I caused.

  Careful not to rock the bed, I lift the comforter and slip inside, close to Freya, wrapping my arm around her. In her sleep, she sucks in a breath, then exhales heavily, burrowing closer to me. I run my hand through her hair, smoothing it gently back from her face.

  “Aiden,” she mutters in her sleep.

  I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Freya.”

  She sighs and smiles faintly in her sleep.

  “I’m here,” I whisper against her temple, planting another kiss.

  Her eyes blink open slowly and meet mine. They stare at me, unblinking, until suddenly they’re brimming with tears.

  “Freya, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”

  “I’m sorry,” she says over me, her hand clasping mine and tugging it to her chest. “I’m so sorry. That was a horrible way for you to find out, let alone after your…” She swallows tears and wipes them away.

  “Dad,” I finish for her. “Yeah. It wasn’t great timing. But what Tom did wasn’t your responsibility, and you shouldn’t have been in the crosshairs of my response.”

  “You were hurting, Aiden,” she says quietly. “You had a panic attack, and when you came home my pills blindsided you. I understood. I felt terrible, but I understood.”

  I pull her close and hold my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “I wish I hadn’t overreacted. I said the worst things I think about myself and put those words in your mouth, and that was unfair. To be angry at you for struggling to tell me something difficult was…wildly hypocritical. Forgive me.”

  She smiles tearily. “Of course, I forgive you. Forgive me, too?”

  “Always.” I kiss her gently. Freya kisses me, too.

  And then it’s more than kisses. It’s whispering touches and quiet, careful movements, taking off each other’s clothes, warm skin and cool sheets. My hands wander the beautiful swells and dips of her body, everywhere she’s soft and dimpled, smooth and silky. I kiss her deeply and hold her close.

  “Freya.”

  She smiles against my skin, stealing a soft, sweet bite at the base of my throat. “Yes, Aiden.”

  “I need you.”

  A quiet smile tips her lips. “I need you, too.”

  “Come here,” I whisper.

  Freya slowly straddles me but lies close, our chests brushing as I kiss her dimples, her smiling mouth, the curve of her jaw, each full, soft breast and tight rosy nipple. With steady strokes against her, every slick, hot slide of our bodies, I bring her close until she’s tugging at my hips, urging me for more.

  “I want you,” she says faintly. “I want you inside me.”

  Easing into her, I whisper, “I’m yours.”

  Tears slip down her face.

  “Freya, tell me you know.”

  “I know, Aiden,” she says through tears. “God, do I know.”

  On a deep hard kiss, I seat myself inside her and earn Freya’s cry. She wraps her arm around my neck, fusing our bodies, and I rock into her, steady, patient, even as Freya writhes.

  “Faster,” she begs.

  “Slow,” I tell her.

  She laughs through tears, kissing me hard. “Even when you’re torturing me, I love you.”

  “I know you do,” I tell her quietly. And then I give her what she’s waited so patiently for—everything.

  “Aiden,” she gasps as I fill her in deep, fast strokes, again and again.

  My release blinds me. I’m lost in Freya’s touch, her words and kisses, as I spill, calling her name. Rubbing her gently where she needs it, I stay inside her, connected, close, until she comes on a sharp gasp. I soak up every cry, the tight, powerful waves of her orgasm as she holds on to me.

  When I can finally speak again, I sigh heavily, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”

  Falling softly to my side, Freya snuggles in. She tips her head up at me and smiles, a vision of sated beauty. “Thank you? For what?”

  “For wanting just me a little longer. I’m going to be so happy when we have a baby, but you’re right. I want to enjoy you first, just us, together. We have time, Freya. Years and years. We’re just getting started.”

  Her eyes search mine and her smile deepens, just as dawn crests the horizon, spilling through our windows. “You’re right. We are.”

  Bending over her, I kiss Freya tenderly. “There’s no one else I’d want to face this with, but I’m sorry it’s been so hard. All I’ve wanted since the day I married you… I’ve just wanted to give you your happily ever after.”

  She slides her hand through my hair, then tenderly along my cheek. “I thought I wanted that, too. So much so, I put it on your pendant.”

  “I miss that pendant.”

  “I don’t,” she says quietly.

  I pull back to better meet her eyes. “What?”

  “Because that damn ‘happily ever after.’”

  My stomach drops. “What are you saying, Freya?”

  “I’m saying ‘happily ever after’ doesn’t exist. Not because lifelong love is impossible, but because, as we’ve learned, no couple can live ‘happily ever after.’ People whose love lasts, whose love grows and endures, choose each other in the unhappily ever after, the dark moments, not just the dazzling ones.

  “We can’t possibly hope to always live ‘happily.’ But ‘ever after’? That we can hope for and choose. Because ‘ever after’ isn’t an idea. It’s a person—an imperfect person who’s perfect for you.” Her eyes search mine as she gives me one soft, tender kiss. “You’re that person, for me. You’re my ever after.”

  My heart glows as I stare down at her, the woman I love more than anything in this world. I clasp her face, wiping away her tears, blinking back my own. “You’re my ever after, too, Freya. Always.”

  She wraps her arms tight around my waist and smiles up at me. “I like that. Ever after always.”

  “Bit of a redundancy, of course,” I say through the lump in my throat, “but a poetic one—mphm!”

  Freya kisses me hard as I pull her close, tucking her inside my arms. I kiss her back, reverently, slowly, and breathe her in.

  “It’s not redundant,” she whispers against my mouth. “It’s a choice, a belief. I choose you, my ever after, believing our love will sustain us, always. Ever after always. So, there. Take that logic
, Mr. MacCormack.”

  I whisper back against her sweet, soft lips, “Consider me schooled, Ms. Bergman.”

  She smiles as she kisses me again and again. And after that, under a brightening sky, the world collapsed to the breath and touch we share, words aren’t necessary at all.

  30

  Freya

  Playlist: “C’mon,” Kesha

  Aiden flops onto our bed with a groan. Horseradish and Pickles jump up on the mattress in tandem, kneading him with their paws and meowing loudly as they lick his chin. “You two,” he mutters, running both hands down their backs. “Such lovers.”

  “They learned from the best,” I tell him, plopping onto the bed next to him. I turn on my side and slip my fingers through his hair. “That was impressive shower sex acrobatics, sir.”

  He grins. “Same to you, madam.”

  I shake my head, showering him in water droplets. “Excited for your first ever anniversary party with the whole Bergman brood?”

  He smiles, still petting the cats. “I am. Your family, Freya. They’re…a gift. Really.”

  “I know. That’s what I want with you.”

  His head jerks my way, startling the cats. “Seven?”

  I laugh at his horrified expression. “I meant the dynamic. I like my job too much. And my sleep. Seven kids would be tough.”

  Relief clears his expression. “Phew. I was thinking maybe three.”

  “I can picture three. We’ll see, won’t we?”

  “Yeah, we will.” He tucks a wet wave behind my ear, his hand gentling the curve of my jaw. “I love you.”

  Leaning in, I steal a kiss. “Love you, too.”

  Our kiss deepens, Aiden shoving the cats off of him as he turns toward me and slips a leg between mine. Then he suddenly pulls back. “Whoa. Getting ahead of myself.” He sits up, and drags me upright, too. “I almost forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” Crawling beneath our sheets, I watch Aiden stand and rake a hand through his wet hair, then stroll toward his closet completely naked. Long, muscular legs. A tight, hard ass. The taper of his waist widening to his broad shoulders. They flex as he rummages around his closet, then turns, bearing a rectangle wrapped in brown paper and an ice-blue velvet bow.

  Sitting on the bed, he sets it in my lap, then joins me beneath the sheets. “Happy anniversary, Freya.” He holds my eyes. “I love you beyond words and time and space. I wish I could articulate how grateful I feel each morning, to wake up and see you next to me. Even when life’s shit and the world feels heavy, I look at you…” He sighs. “Knowing I have you…that’s everything I need.”

  “Thank you,” I say through tears, kissing him gently. “I feel the same way about you, Bear. Should I open it?”

  “Please.”

  I turn it over gently, ripping open the paper where it’s taped. When I turn it around again, I stare in wonder at a constellation, cut into a wide circle, black and sparkling against white matting. Below, stamped in tin:

  “‘This dark is everywhere’

  we said, and called it light”

  — Orpheus and Eurydice, Jean Valentine

  Tears spill down my cheeks. “Aiden.”

  His fingers brush mine, until our hands are braided together. “You remember?”

  I nod, wiping away tears. “Our honeymoon.”

  “And the world’s most depressing story of Orpheus and Eurydice,” he says teasingly.

  I laugh through my tears. “Because there was…” I slide my hand over the constellation, the night sky from our wedding night frozen in time. “Lyra.” Peering back at the engravement, I stare at the words. “I don’t know that poem.”

  “Neither did I.” Aiden tips my chin until our eyes meet. “But I liked that in this version of their story, it’s a better ending for Orpheus and Eurydice—no denial about the world’s darkness. Just the beauty of two people finding a little light, making their way through it together.”

  “I love everything about it,” I tell him, lifting up the print, admiring it. “It’s so beautiful. And thoughtful.” I set it down and wipe away tears that fall fast and heavy. “Feelings,” I groan. “So many of them.”

  Aiden pulls me into his arms. “I love you for those many feelings,” he whispers against my hair.

  “I know.” I sigh inside his arms and smile as he kisses my tears away. “My turn, now.”

  Leaning past him for my nightstand, I pull out a small box. “I love you, Aiden.” I set it in his hands and hold his eyes. “There isn’t another soul I’d want to share life with. Happy anniversary.”

  “Thank you, Frey.” He steals another kiss before fumbling with the box. I watch him tear off the paper, then turn it over and open it. He stares and exhales roughly. “You made another one…another pendant.”

  “Yes and no.” I kiss his cheek gently. “Look closer.”

  He lifts the chain and its thin, rectangular pendant, reading it silently.

  Aiden + Freya =

  3,650 days

  520 weeks

  120 months

  10 years

  1 ever after always

  “Freya.” He hugs me so tight it makes me squeak. His nose brushes mine as he steals the softest kiss. “Thank you. This is beautiful. I’ll treasure it forever,” he whispers, kissing me deeper, promising more. So much more. “Almost as much as I treasure you.”

  “Good,” I tell Aiden as I pull him over me, warm beneath the covers. “Because treasuring you forever is exactly what I had in mind.”

  “Where are they?” I ask my mother.

  Mom leans back from behind the refrigerator door. “Who, sötnos?”

  I glance up from the vegetables sautéing in the stock pot and give her a look. “My husband. And all my brothers.”

  “Oh.” Mom shuts the door with her hip. “Outside. Talking. The boys had something to give Aiden.”

  “For what? It’s my anniversary, too.”

  “Your tenth,” Mom says, smiling at me. “Tin is the gift you give. Or aluminum. They represent the flexibility and durability necessary to sustain your marriage. You remembered, yes?”

  “Mother.” Tapping the spoon on the side of the pot, I set it down. “Do you know me? I’m obsessed with that shit.” I smile to myself, remembering our gifts. And the glorious sex we had after exchanging them.

  She shoos me aside so I’m out of her work area. “I figured you’d remember, but I also know you’re back to working, and you seem very busy these days.”

  “I am busy, but not just with work. I do karaoke twice a month now, and Aiden and I started playing on a co-ed rec team again. It’s a lot, but it’s good. And even juggling it all, I remembered my husband’s anniversary present.”

  “Well, I am glad you’re happily busy, but don’t forget about your mamma. I’m here, you know. I feel very useless these days.”

  I wrap an arm around her waist and set my head on her shoulder. She kisses my hair, then starts chopping fresh parsley. “I know the feeling,” I tell her. “I come by it honestly. But you’re not useless to me one bit. I love you. And I know I have you in my corner.”

  “Do you?” she says.

  Slowly, I pull away. “What?”

  “How are you since vacation?” Mom asks, eyes on her task.

  I frown in confusion. “Fine. I mean, good. Honestly.”

  “Hm.” She slides the parsley aside and runs the chopping board under water in the sink. “I ask because it must have been hard to celebrate our marriage when yours was being tested.”

  I stare at my mother in alarm. “What?”

  I’m going to kill my brothers.

  “Your brothers didn’t tell me anything,” Mom says softly, intuiting my thoughts. “You’re my child, Freya. I’ve seen your sadness. I wanted to ask sooner, but I thought it best to wait until things settled with Aiden’s father before I brought it up.”

  Aiden hasn’t seen Tom, yet, but he’s been talking about it in counseling a lot, and he’s considering it. When he’s no
t at therapy or the office, he’s been home sharing the couch with me while he takes calls with Dan, and when all the work is done, watching movies and touching and talking. I’ve been completely absorbed in us, in making my life the balance of work and play that I need, until I forgot I never told my mother what I so deeply needed to. Guilt sits, heavy in my stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to burden you with my marriage problems during your anniversary celebration. And since we got back, life’s been nonstop.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, Freya. From now on, you tell me, though,” she says, pinning me with her pale eyes, the color of ice and winter skies, just like mine. She closes the distance between us and hugs me hard. “You don’t protect me, because I am your mamma,” she whispers. “Mothers protect their children. As you will soon know.”

  I freeze inside her arms. “I’m not… We aren’t—”

  “I know,” she says quietly. “But it’s coming. And when you are, you will be a wonderful mother.” She pulls away and cups my cheek softly. “Even more than you are, to all the people you love, a wonderful mama bear.”

  A burst of male voices draws our attention to the back deck, which I can see through the sliding glass doors. All of the brothers, including Axel and Ryder, who flew down, are here because Aiden said he wanted us to start the tradition Mom and Dad have, celebrating our anniversary with family.

  Squinting, I try to make sense of what they’re doing out there. Aiden’s laughing, all of the brothers huddled around him.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Mom shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  Willa, Frankie, Rooney, and Ziggy peer up from the couch and look out, too.

  Eyes on the guys outside, Rooney smiles. “What’s that about?”

  “Don’t know,” Ziggy says. “Do you?” she asks Frankie.

  “Uh. Yeah.” Frankie grimaces. “But I’m not supposed to blab it. So, I suggest Freya get out there.”