Only and Forever (Bergman Brothers, #7)

by Chloe Liese

That’s how you know you really love something, Tallulahloo, when it feels worth the hassle, when even the hardest parts of it feel like a gift.”

“Then fuck them,” she says icily. “Fuck anyone who makes you feel like you’re too much. If they feel that way, they aren’t enough for you.”

A-effing-men!

Don’t assume other people’s problems are an indictment of you. Don’t take on their shit, especially mine, and make it yours, or I swear to you, this arrangement is off.”

“I see love as . . . elemental, something so deeply woven into everything that makes life feel alive. And I’m not even talking exclusively about romantic love. Love takes so many forms. Love for ourselves. Our surroundings. Strangers. Friends. Family. Partners. To me, to reduce it to only an animalistic impulse does it a profound disservice.

I’ve hemmed and hawed and fussed because it was safer to stay in limbo, telling myself I was pursuing my dream without actually putting it out there for anyone to see, to possibly disparage; to watch it fail if it didn’t do well, a prospect which obviously terrified me.”

Ooof. I feel this.

“But that’s really only possible after a shit ton of therapy to unlearn all the bullshit we internalized growing up.”

Facts 😂

I love her. I love Tallulah. And falling in love looked . . . nothing like I believed it would. It wasn’t sudden or showy, clean-cut or clear. It was uneven and unexpected, creeping quietly, a vine that began as a small, delicate shoot winding its way through me, until one day it was everywhere, twined through my heart, my mind, my life, every corner of it.

“My heart has been, and always will be, only and forever yours.”