The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

But it was him who went for it. Aiden turned his mouth to the side and sealed our lips together, going from chaste to hungry in one second flat. He went one direction and I went the other, our tongues clashing instinctively. Dueling, dipping. Aiden ate at my mouth and I let him. We kissed and we kissed. My tongue brushed his over and over again, and it wasn’t enough.

Aiden kissed me like he never wanted to stop.

Aiden had been in the nook when I first came inside. He’d walked up to me and hugged me without a word, letting me bury myself into that great big chest.

Then the day came that he was set to leave for Colorado. He’d stood in front of me in his room, given me a hug, kissed my cheek, kissed my mouth gently, slipped something over my head and he left.

My friend was gone. My puppy with him.

It wasn’t until he was out of the house that I looked down and saw what he had left me with. His medallion. The St. Luke’s medallion his grandfather had given him. It made me cry.

“It’s just been everything. I’m fine, I promise.” The expression on his face when he turned around said what his mouth didn’t: You’re not okay.

“I tried firing you at least four times.” What? Trevor’s lip snarled. “You didn’t know?” “When?” I coughed out. “Does it matter?” It shouldn’t but... “It does to me.” The angry, bitter man simply gazed at

“He wouldn’t let me.”

You know nothing, Vane...

“The last time I suggested we find him someone else, he said the first person that would go between the two of us would be me. Me.”

He’d liked me. Aiden had fucking liked me. He hadn’t been joking so many months ago.

Me: I didn’t know Trevor wanted to fire me. An hour later, I got my response. Aiden: Did he go by the house? He wasn’t even trying to bullshit me. Me: Yeah. Aiden: Yes, he wanted to get rid of you. I didn’t let him. Was he on crack? Me: You didn’t say anything when I left. I just thought… you didn’t care. Aiden: I wasn’t going to force you to stay if you wanted to go. Me: But you could have said something. I would have stayed longer if you’d just asked. I’d barely typed that out when I realized how stupid of an argument that was. If he’d asked. Aiden was like me, he wouldn’t have asked. Ever. Aiden: I got you for longer, didn’t I?

“You have a call.” A call?

“Hello?” “Muffin,” the deep voice answered.

“You can finish the marathon. Graves aren’t quitters.”

“I might not be able to walk after I cross the finish line, but I’m going to do it. Can I call you after I’m done when I’m lying on a hospital bed?” “You’d better.”

But when I spotted that giant, brown-haired man bee-lining through people like a runaway train, I definitely started damn near bawling. People cheered me on, but I couldn’t find it in me to thank them because I wanted only one thing and it wasn’t close enough.

It was just… traumatic.

He was like Moses parting a sea of people. The second he stopped in front of me, I held my arms out and let him grab me under the armpits, deadlifting me before engaging those giant biceps and pulling me up to be eye to eye with him. I didn’t appreciate that incredible feat of strength because what he did afterward… I threw my arms around his neck and he hugged me. In front of everyone, he hugged the living shit out of me as if he hadn’t walked out on me and left me alone when all I wanted was him. I wrapped my legs high above his hips like a spider monkey, not giving a crap about the wedgie my shorts were giving me, much less that there were photographers, who were supposed to be busy taking pictures of the marathon runners, circling The Wall of Winnipeg and me in our moment.

“That’s my girl. That’s my fucking girl.” “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you very much.” Oh hell. “I had to come see you,”

“I’m dying. I need you to get me a Segway. I’m never walking ever again,”

“You’re not dying, and I’m not buying you that,”

“Can you carry me?” “You’re insulting me, Van. Of course I can.”

“Yes. I’m so proud of you.” “Okay,” I whined with a sniffle. Yeah, I hugged that big neck even tighter. “Will you take me home, big guy?” My no-nonsense, no-bullshit Aiden said it. “After you walk around for ten minutes to cool down.”

“I was going to tell you… I was going to tell you that I love you. I know you said you don’t want a relationship, and I know things between us are super complicated—” The plate in my hands was taken away. “—but I love you. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to be—” “Vanessa.” “I don’t want to be someone’s number two or number three priority because sometimes I like to be greedy—” “Van.” “—but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried to stop, I swear. But I couldn’t.” Then it came. “Shut up.”

“Did you listen to anything I told you when you finished your run? I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much you can’t begin to comprehend how much. I didn’t want to leave you. I kept trying to talk myself out of going. Why do you think I never brought it up?”

“But… you didn’t say anything when you left. You took Leo.” “You didn’t ask me to stay.” He squeezed my hands. “I took Leo because I couldn’t take you. I assumed you wanted to stay with Diana and do your marathon because you didn’t feel the same. I was going to ask you to come with me.” “You were?”

“How do you not know that you mean the world to me? I haven’t ma...

“I don’t know,” I stuttered. “Do ...

“You tell me. I never stop thinking about you. I worry about you all the time. Every beautiful thing I see reminds me of you. I can’t finish my practices in Colorado without wishing you were around,...

Aiden kissed me like… good lord, like we were having slow, intense sex. At least the kind of slow, intense sex I’d seen in porns before.

“Home is where you are. I would go anywhere for you if you wanted me to be there.”

“I don’t know anything about relationships, Van, but I know I love you. I know I’ve waited my entire life to love you, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to make this work.”

It was my smile. Our smile. The one he saved up for moments when it was only our little team together.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But I can’t remember anymore what it’s like to not be happy.”