Was I supposed to say ‘No, don’t worry about it. I have it?’ or was it okay for me to accept it? Ideally, he was already doing more than enough for me for the next five years when I really didn’t have to do much more than sign some paperwork, and make sure I didn’t fall in love with someone…
Okay, that was guilt sweeping along the lining of my stomach, and I knew what it meant. “Don’t worry about it. I can pay for it.” I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, or whatever it could be called.
Aiden just shrugged.
A few minutes later, the waffles were ready and we ate in silence at the table, both of us eating efficiently and quickly. I washed off our dishes and dried them, leaving them on the stack with the others.
“Let’s get the things your neighbors are taking out of here first, then pack up the cars,” Aiden suggested, his fingers dipping into the front of his shirt to pluck at the medallion hanging around his neck. He moved it so that it lay against the back of his neck, the chain it was on tight around the front of his throat. I’d always wondered where he’d got it from—especially since as far as I knew, he wasn’t a religious person—but it was another one of those things he’d never bothered sharing.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, eyeing the hint of gold one more time. Oh well.
Once on the floor above mine, the single mother opened the door on the second knock, accepting the box of glasses I’d carried up the stairs. “You’re leaving now?” she asked me in Spanish.
“Yes. Do you want to send some of the kids down with me to help carry some things?”
Mrs. Huerta nodded and called her three oldest children to help. The eleven, nine, and eight-year-old hugged my hips and then ran down the stairs ahead of me, already fully aware of what they were keeping. The three of them barged in and headed straight toward the kitchen, slowing down when they spotted the big man transferring boxes from my bedroom into the hallway.
One by one, they each grabbed cups, pots, pans, or utensils and headed back out. I grabbed two chairs from the dining room table and made my way toward the stairs, shooting Aiden a tight smile when our eyes met on the way out. I had just deposited them in my neighbor’s living room when a shadow appeared at the doorway, carrying the other two chairs under his arms effortlessly.
“Dios santo. Es tu novio?” the slightly older woman asked from her spot on the couch.
Boyfriend? I felt my eyes bulge but nodded, maybe a bit robotically. “Si.” What else was I going to call him? I was probably lucky enough that she didn’t have time to watch football, and had no idea who he was.
She glanced in Aiden’s direction once more, balancing her three-year-old on her lap, and gradually nodded, impressed. “He’s handsome,” she said in Spanish. “And those muscles.” Mrs. Huerta added a grin to the end of her comment that had me giving her a timid smile.
“Ya se,” I said in a mutter before darting back out of the apartment and heading downstairs. I knew? Well, it was the truth. I did know he had some guns. And a chest. And that ass. I could have done worse. Maybe he had little desire for social skills and maybe he didn’t really care about anyone but himself, but he could be worse. He could be a psychopath who did bad things to animals, I guess.
I found Aiden in my apartment with the table flipped on its back, unscrewing the top of it from the legs with a pocket multi-tool I wasn’t sure where he’d gotten. He glanced up when he sensed me standing there. “What else are they taking?”
“The mattress.”
He hummed and nodded.
Forty minutes later, I had sweat pouring down my face, but Aiden and I had managed to carry the mattress up the stairs. Weight-wise, he could have carried it up by himself without a huff or a puff, but apparently, it was too big to carry alone, and my puny muscles had struggled. We set the older mattress where my neighbor’s blow-up bed had been the last time I’d come over. I’d offered the bed frame to her but understood why she hadn’t wanted it—two mattresses would barely fit in the tiny one bedroom that was built for maybe two occupants but not six.
Luckily, by the time we were done, my next-door neighbor’s sons were waiting outside my door to help move the rest of the furniture into his place. Aiden and I sat across from each other in the bedroom, taking the bed apart so it could be easier to move. I caught him looking at the multiple night lights I hadn’t gotten a chance to pack away. He didn’t ask about them, and I was pretty grateful.
I noticed both of the neighbor’s sons eyeing Aiden more than a little bit when they peeked into my bedroom, and then I heard one whispering to the other, but none of them said a word to us before carrying out the first of the things in the living room.
I had just taken a pee break when I opened the door, and overheard talking coming from the hallway.
“Sure.” That was Aiden.
I grabbed two of the boxes left in my bedroom, and made my way out to leave them in the living room. Standing in the hallway was Aiden, one forearm against the wall while his left hand was up, scribbling away on something with one of the Sharpies I’d left around the apartment so I could write on boxes. Next to him were my neighbor’s sons, their eyes glued on Aiden.
Yeah, it didn’t take my not-so-genius brain to figure out they knew who he was, and what Aiden was busy doing.
“I appreciate it,” one of them thanked him when he handed over the piece of paper he’d signed.
The big guy nodded, his attention turning toward me. “No problem. We should really finish packing up. We need to get going.”
The guys kind of hesitated. “We could help.”
Aiden shook his head dismissively. “We got it.”
“Thanks though,” I threw out when the rude-ass didn’t.
They nodded and one of them said, “Man, Vanessa, I had no idea you were together. Dad’s gonna lose it. He’s a huge fan.”
I already knew that, and it only made me feel guilty. My neighbor had a Three Hundreds mat outside his door. During the holidays, he hung up a wreath with team ornaments on it. “Yeah….” I just kind of trailed off. I mean, what else was I supposed to say?
Luckily, they quickly thanked Aiden and took off, closing the door behind him.
“All right.” I took a breath. “Let’s get the rest of this done.”
Between the two of us, we carried my television over to Aiden’s Range Rover as my arms trembled with exhaustion. My desktop computer followed. The fact that he could have carried it on his own didn’t escape me at all, but I wasn’t going to complain, so I kept my mouth shut. In the back of my Explorer, we put my bookcase, desk, and chair. The rest of the boxes were split up into both of our vehicles.
Aiden was in his SUV when I closed my apartment door one last time, nostalgia hitting me dead center in the chest. I always thought about moving on with my life and taking the next step toward whatever upcoming goal I had. Like when I left Aiden, a part of me missed him or some weird variation when you’re so used to doing things a certain way for a long time and suddenly you don’t, but I’d known I was going to move on. I was doing something better for myself, and doing this for him, no matter what my conscience said, was a smart step. A weird one, but a smart one.
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.