The Best Thing

by Mariana Zapata

I loved brushing my teeth with him beside me in the mornings. I loved seeing him greet Mo first thing, with cuddles and kisses and his lovely voice singing Māori lullabies into her ear. I loved his sleepy face and the way he smelled and how unafraid and open he was to touching me all the damn time. A hand on my hip. An arm over my shoulders. A chin against my head. Fingers threading through my own every chance they had. If I hadn’t already been in love with him, it would have been over for me in those following weeks. Regardless of what he was training, he would come and get on a bike with me any time I got on and we’d race. If I was weight training, he’d come and spot me. If I was working in the MMA building, he would sit and watch me like he had nothing better to do. When I’d do something he thought was impressive, he would clap, and later on tell me how amazing he thought it was. Then he’d ask me to do it to him to know. My heart grew and grew with every day with him. And grew even more every night that we were together with Mo. Like a big family.