The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

“Aiden . . . uh . . .” I scratched at my forehead, trying to keep my features even. First things first. “Did you just call me Muffin?” He looked at me. His blink was so delayed, I started thinking maybe I’d imagined it. “I figured it was too soon to call you Dinner Roll.”

“We’re partners. We’re a team. You said it.”

“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.”

The Wall of Winnipeg stared down at the much smaller man, and in a voice that was as close to a cool, unattached statement as possible, he said, “Touch my wife again and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

“I’m starting to understand that you can always make time for the things that matter.”

“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.”