The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Page 45


It was a giant leap for my future, and I was going to hold on to that reminder with both hands.

I dropped off a check for the last two months of my lease, signed a few papers with the office manager, and I was out of there.

It took an hour just to get to Aiden’s house from my apartment thanks to a ten-car pile-up on the highway. Between being a little overwhelmed with moving, especially since I wasn’t feeling exactly stoked to have to move in with another person—that person being my ex-boss of all people—and trying my best to convince myself that I wasn’t going to go to jail if or when officials found out the truth; I was trying not to become paranoid.

I smiled at the security guard when we got to the gated community, and ignored the curious expression on his face when he saw my car loaded up. Aiden backed into the garage, and I parked in the driveway for the first time ever.

When I got out and spotted him toting boxes inside, I grabbed the most I could carry on my own from my Explorer. I followed after him, nervous, anxious, and a little bit scared.

Everything looked familiar, but it felt foreign at the same time. I made myself march on up those stairs I’d climbed a thousand other times and kept on going when all I wanted to do was turn around, and head back to my apartment.

I was moving in with Aiden and Zac, signing some papers that would unite us in paper matrimony, and this would be my reality for the next five years. When I thought about it in bits and pieces… yeah, it didn’t help. It still seemed like a huge, white elephant I couldn’t ignore.

The door to the empty guest room was open as I approached it, and I could hear Aiden inside setting things down. I’d been in there many, many other times in the past to dust or wash the sheets. I was pretty familiar with the layout.

But it wasn’t the same as it had been the last time I’d seen it.

Aiden didn’t have a bunch of crap all over the house. Every room except the gym was pretty sparse and utilitarian. He didn’t have artwork or knickknacks. He hadn’t even bothered painting any of the rooms. There wasn’t a single trophy or jersey hanging around anywhere. The boxes of that kind of stuff were hidden in his closet, something I couldn’t completely understand. If I had the kind of trophies he did, they would be up so everyone could see them.

In his bedroom, he had a bed and two dressers. He didn’t even have a mirror in there, much less a single picture of anything or anyone. The guest bedroom had been even more barren with only a bed and a nightstand in a relatively large-sized room—it was twice the size of the room at my apartment.

But when I walked into the room that would now be mine, I didn’t just find a bed. There was a large matching dresser with a big vanity mirror mounted to it, and a new small-ish bookshelf that also seemed to match the rest of the dark brown, contemporary furniture. It didn’t hit me until much later that it was all the exact same furniture I’d had in my bedroom at my apartment… just nicer and matching.

“Your bookshelf from home would look better in the office,” Aiden casually suggested when I just stopped and stood at the doorway, too busy taking in the new furniture.

I tried to keep my surprise to a minimum, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded or not, so all I managed to scrape together as a response was a nod. He was right though; my bookshelf would match better in there.

“Your desk can go there.” He vaguely pointed at the empty section of the wall right between the two bedroom windows. “I bought the mattress right before you started working for me. It’s only been slept in… What do you think? Three times? But if you want a new one, order one. You know which card to use.”

I snapped my mouth closed and batted away the surprise that had stolen my words, blinking over at Aiden at the same time I hesitated. He’d done all this? For me? When I’d left working for him, he hadn’t even known where to order his soap. He didn’t even run his own dishwasher. Now there was new furniture?

Who was this man? I shook my head, my forehead scrunching. “No, this is all great. Thank you.”

I didn’t even have to put any effort into remembering how comfortable it had been when I’d had to climb on top of it to strip the sheets or dust the headboard. Not too soft, not too firm. “It’s perfect.” I almost said don’t worry about it, but then again, I was sure he wasn’t worried; he was just trying to be accommodating, and considering I didn’t expect much, it was more than I would have planned on. “This is better than what I’m used to.”

I took another breath and slowly lowered the things I was holding to the floor. “Thanks for helping me move by the way.”

I’m really doing this. I’m moving in. Holy shit.

“I appreciate it,” I wobbled out. I was really doing this. I’m really doing this.

He tipped his head down just slightly then brushed passed me on the way out, back downstairs from the sound of the creaking staircase. There was no way I was going to slack off and make him do the majority of the hauling, even if he was in way better shape than me, and had four times the muscles.

Okay, I wasn’t going to be a lazy shit.

Downstairs, I kept up with the rest of the moving. It took a little more than half an hour for both of us to get the boxes from the vehicles into the bedroom. Then we carried my television up while my arms convulsed from how tired they were, and my fingers turned slippery with sweat. The freaking thing seemed to have gained twenty pounds on the trip from my complex to his house.

Tags: Mariana Zapata Romance
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