The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

“No,” I replied with a little smirk on my face. “Dinner Roll is leaving now. Please make sure to tell Aiden later on when no one else is around that I said he can eat shit.”

She was definitely the wrong person to call for advice. “It’s illegal.” “In that case, make sure you don’t get caught.” Okay, Aiden Junior, I thought before she continued on.

When I was a kid, I learned the hard way how expensive the truth was. Sometimes it cost you people in your life. Sometimes it cost you things in your life. And in this life, most people were too cheap to pay the price for something as valuable as honesty. In this case, I could tell the price tag had hit Aiden unexpectedly.

Aiden didn’t help the situation either by standing there, looking back at his fan with that unreadable, borderline bored expression on his face. “Could you get my girl a coffee?” His girl?

“Mr. Graves, I can settle your visit with your assistant if you’d like to take a seat,” the receptionist said in a sugary sweet voice, her green eyes flicking to my direction briefly. Aiden settled for shrugging a shoulder as he turned his body to face me. Nothing about his expression or body language gave me a warning. “She’s my wife.” Time stopped. What the hell did he just say? “Handle it for me, would you, Muffin?” Aiden asked casually, digging into his back pocket and handing over his wallet like he hadn’t just said the freaking W-word in front of strangers. And wait a second, did he just call me Muffin? Muffin?

“What the hell happened to your wrist?”

Those dark brown eyes blazed up to meet mine, and I swore on my life, the fury in those irises was enough for me to stop breathing. “Vanessa,” Aiden growled, literally growled, as he softly tugged the sleeve farther up my forearm to display the five-inch bruise just above my wrist.

“Zac!” What the hell? “What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me before yelling Zac’s name again. “I need to borrow his car. If I fly, there will be proof I was there.” Holy shit.

“What the hell are you planning on doing?” “You kneeing him isn’t doing it for me.” Aiden didn’t even grace me with a glance as he made his way toward my door. “Zac!”

“If someone messes with you, they’re going to mess with me, Van. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I might not be good with this friend crap, but I’m not about to let somebody get away with hurting you. Ever. Do you understand me?”

“You’ve been with me for two years, but I figure I’m barely beginning to understand,” the big guy claimed, his expression solemn. “Understand what?” “I should probably be scared of you.”

“Don’t presume you know anything, because you don’t. You don’t know anything about me, or Vanessa. And if she is pregnant, don’t make that fucking face unless you’re ready for the consequences.” Uh . . . he’d said the F-word, hadn’t he? I hadn’t been imagining it? “She’s my wife, and all she’s ever done was watch out for me. Don’t go there, Trevor. You don’t want to go there, understand me?” I was so freaking making him dinner. Maybe even lunch too.

“Is that him?” he asked in a low voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Who?” I was dumb enough to ask. “The guy who gave you the bruise on your arm.”

“Touch my wife again and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

It was right then, in that instant, that I realized I might be a little in love with Aiden. Not in a way that was anything like the easy crush I had on him in the past, but different. So, so different. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Seriously? I asked myself. Are you fucking serious, Vanessa?

“You don’t ever have to worry about me not wanting you somewhere. Got it?”

Of all the people I would ever want in my corner for moral support, here was the most unexpected one . . . and the biggest one. My friend. The keeper of my secrets. My moral support. My paperwork.

“No,” the familiar, deep voice answered unexpectedly, right before he dropped a metal chair into place right next to me. “She’s mine.”

“You’re about to run a marathon. Do you think it matters if you come in last as long as you finish it?” he asked. I blinked and let the anxious tears pool in my eyes for the first time. “But what if I can’t finish it?” The voice on the other end let out a sigh. “You can finish the marathon. Graveses aren’t quitters.”

“I’ve got this.” He made a light noise, a tender one. “That’s my girl.” His girl? “I am?” I just outright asked him, hoping more than a little he wasn’t just . . . that was stupid, Aiden wouldn’t just say that. “The only one,” he said it like there was no other choice in the world.

“That’s my girl. That’s my fucking girl.” “What are you doing here?” I practically bawled into him. “I missed you.” “You what?” His arms tightened around me. “I missed you very much.”

“How do you not know that you mean the world to me? I haven’t made it clear enough?” “I don’t know,” I stuttered. “Do you love me?” His gaze was so intent the entire world seemed to stop. “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,” he said in a steady tone. “You tell me what I feel.”

“Home is where you are. I would go anywhere for you if you wanted me to be there.” One of Aiden’s palms slid down the length of my spine, ending at the small of my back. He seemed to talk into my hair. “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.”

“Are you happy?” I asked. With his arms still around the three of us, he looked up at me through those incredibly long lashes and nodded almost distractedly. “Yes.” Those massive hands went to the small spines of his mini-mes before detouring to gently touch the pudgy cheeks, his smile growing even wider as his gaze landed on mine once more. “But I can’t remember anymore what it’s like to not be happy.”