The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: A Novel

I didn’t call Aiden and he didn’t call me.

I couldn’t blame the lack of communication on him not having my cell phone number; I’d given it to him before I left his house the day I’d agreed to do what we were doing.

A week passed, and when he hadn’t bothered getting into contact with me, I didn’t think much of it. The Three Hundreds were in the middle of preseason games according to the news. I knew how busy this time of the year was for him.

Plus, there was the small chance that maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe.

Well, I didn’t know why else he wouldn’t call, but I made myself not think about it more than I needed to, which I figured wasn’t much, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stress about it.

The reality that there was a chance he had found some other way of getting his residency petition filed wasn’t as crippling as I would have imagined, considering there was over a hundred thousand dollars riding on our deal. I wouldn’t even say I was disappointed but…

Okay, maybe by the fifth day into the week I might have accepted that I was a little, tiny bit disappointed. Having my loans paid off would have been… well, the more I thought about having that amount of money resting on my shoulders, the more I realized just how repressing it was. It would be one thing if I owed that much money on a house, but in freaking school loans?

If twenty-six-year-old Vanessa could talk to eighteen-year-old Vanessa, I wasn’t sure I would have still gone to such an expensive school. I probably would have gone to community college for my basics then transferred to a state college. My little brother had never made me feel guilty for leaving; he’d been the one to tell me to go. Every once in a while though, I regretted the decision I’d made. But I was a stubborn jackass idiot who wanted what she wanted come hell or high water, and I’d done what I wanted to do at an incredibly high expense.

By the seventh day into our no-communication spree, I was more than halfway through coming to terms with the fact that I would be in debt the next twenty years of my life, and that I’d already assumed that would be the case the instant I’d gotten that first statement in the mail after graduation.

So why cry over it?

I had told him the truth. I didn’t need him or his money.

But I would have taken it because I was an idiot, but I wasn’t that much of an idiot.

I was in the middle of uploading a Facebook cover file to DropBox for a client when my phone rang. Peeking over at it sitting on the coffee table behind my work desk, I couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the name appearing on the screen.

Miranda P.

I should probably change the contact information since he technically wasn’t my version of Miranda anymore.

“Hello?”

“Are you home?” the deep voice asked.

“Yes.” I’d barely finished pronouncing the ‘s’ when a now familiar, heavy-handed knock banged on my door. I didn’t have to check my phone to know he’d hung up. A moment later, the peephole confirmed who I thought it would be.

And, yep, it was Aiden.

He barreled inside the instant the deadbolt was turned and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it without a second glance. Those dark eyes pierced me with a look that made me frown and freeze at the same time.

“What is it?”

“What the hell were you thinking moving here?” he pretty much growled in a disgusted tone that immediately put me on the defensive.

Sure, I knew my complex was slightly scary, but he didn’t need to make it seem like I lived in a slum. “It’s cheap.”

“You’re kidding,” he muttered.

Where the hell did this smart mouth come from? “Some of my neighbors are nice,” I claimed.

The expression on his face was dubious as he said, “Someone was getting jumped right next to the gate when I pulled in.”

Oh. I waved him inside to change the subject. He didn’t need to know that happened on a weekly basis. I’d called the cops a couple of times, but once I realized they never actually showed up, I stopped bothering. “Do you need something?”

Walking ahead of me toward the living room, he answered over his shoulder, “I’ve been waiting for you to let me know when you’re moving in.”

That had been one of the first things I’d stopped wondering back when I began considering that he might have changed his mind. So hearing it again was like having ice thrown on me. Almost. I didn’t bother telling him I’d thought we weren’t going through with it anymore. “Were you… did you…” I coughed. “Was I supposed to do it soon?”

Turning around to face me, he tipped his chin down before crossing his giant biceps over his chest. “The season is about to start, we need to do it before then.”

I didn’t remember hearing about that being part of the plan. I mean, I figured sooner than later, but…

He was paying off my student loans if I did this. I should have moved in the day after we came to a decision, if that was what he wanted.

“When do you think I should?” I asked.

Of course he had a date in mind. “Friday or Saturday.”

I almost hacked a lung out. “This Friday or Saturday?” That was only five days away.

That big head tipped to the side. “We’re on a time crunch.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “My lease is up in two months.”

Sometimes I forgot Aiden didn’t believe in obstacles. “Pay it off. I’ll give you the cash.”

This was happening. This was really happening. I was moving in. With him.

I eyed him—the wide muscles of his shoulders, the dark hair dusting his jaw, those freaking eyes that seemed to glare at everything and everyone. I was going to be living with this guy.

My loans. My loans, my loans, my loans.

“What day is better for you? Friday or Saturday?” I made myself ask.

“Friday.”

Friday it was. I peered at my belongings for the first time, and felt a pang of sadness.

Just as I was thinking about my things, Aiden seemed to be doing the same thing, glancing around the small living room. I thought he might have lifted a foot to toe my couch. “Do you need help packing… or something?” he asked in an unsure voice, like this was his first time asking someone if they needed help.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“Umm…” Right after I’d gotten home from his house, I’d decided what I would keep and what I would donate or give away. In conclusion, I assumed it would have to be most of my stuff.

I figured I’d be taking the guest room since it was the only room not being used on a full-time basis. The other three rooms beside the master were Zac’s, the home office, and the huge in-home gym.

“The only things I want to keep are my bookcase, my television, and my desk.” I didn’t miss the judgmental eye he slid toward the small, sixty-dollar black desk behind me. “The rest I’m going to give to my neighbors. There’s no point in keeping any of it in storage for”—I almost gagged on the words—“five years.”

He nodded even as he took in my television. “Everything can fit in a couple of trips.”

I nodded, sadness nipping my throat at the idea of leaving my apartment behind. Sure it wasn’t luxurious or anything, but I’d made it my own. On the other hand, an apartment I hadn’t been planning on staying at forever anyway wasn’t going to be the difference between living in debt and not.

I could cry at Aiden’s later if I needed to… and that thought almost made me crack up out loud. What had my life come to? And why the hell was I complaining so much? I’d be moving into a nicer house, getting my loans off my back, and getting a house, all in return for ‘marrying’ a man. So I couldn’t date anyone if I wanted to. Whoop-de-do. The last date I’d gone on two weeks ago hadn’t exactly left me excited for a repeat. It was a fair exchange, more than a fair exchange if I didn’t calculate the risk of what would happen if someone found out that our ‘marriage’ was a fraud. Then again, you didn’t get anywhere in life unless you took a risk.

“Okay,” I muttered out of the blue, more to myself than Aiden.

Then we just stared at each other, letting that same awkward silence that had been between us as boss and employee come out.

I cleared my throat.

Then he cleared his throat. “I talked to Zac.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Aiden shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “He said he understood.”

In that case, I needed to call him; I didn’t want to be a total coward, and just move in without talking to him about it.

Aiden dipped his chin once before turning his body to face the door. “I need to go. I’ll see you Friday,” he said as he moved toward it.

And then he was gone.

He didn’t tell me to call him if I needed help with anything, and he didn’t say bye. He simply left.

This was what I’d signed up for.

This was the next five years of my life. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

It was seven thirty in the morning, and I was at my dining room table for the last time ever when that now familiar, three-rap knock made my door rattle. I’d just gotten out of bed twenty minutes ago, and I was sitting around waiting for the waffle iron to heat up. Hell, I still had my pajamas on, hadn’t washed my face, or even brushed my teeth yet. My hair was up in something that looked like a baby pineapple.

“Aiden?” I called out as I dragged my feet toward the door.

Sure enough, his dark facial hair greeted me through the peephole before I let him in with a yawn and a small frown.

The man who was apparently going to be my new roommate, amongst other things, strolled in, not muttering a good morning or anything. Instead, he waited until I locked the door before giving me a lazy look. “You aren’t dressed yet?”

I had to stifle another yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. “It’s seven thirty. What are you doing here?”

“Helping you move,” he said, like I was asking a dumb question.

“Oh.” He was? He’d said something about it only taking a few trips to move my things, but I’d assumed it would take me a few trips. Huh. “Okay. I was just about to make waffles… do you want some?”

Aiden eyed me for a moment before turning around and continuing on to the kitchen. His head turned from left to right in what I assumed was him either making sure that I had actually gotten some packing done, or taking inventory of what I had left to go. I’d bubble-wrapped all my artwork two days ago. My clothes were all in boxes the people at the grocery store were nice enough to let me have. My books and knickknacks were packed. My television and desktop computer were the only items that hadn’t been prepped, but I had almost every blanket and comforter I owned in the living room waiting to get put to good use.

“Which recipe?” he had the nerve to inquire.

“The cinnamon one.” Before he could ask, I added, “I’m not using eggs.”

He nodded and took a seat at the table, still not exactly subtle in his perusal. All my dishes, utensils, and pots were already out and stacked on the countertops, waiting for their new owners to come and take them. I’d been lugging them around since college, and I figured they’d gone above and beyond the call of duty.

I made more batter and then poured it into the hot waffle iron, keeping an eye on Aiden as he kept taking in my belongings. “What are you doing with the rest of your furniture?”

“My neighbor upstairs is taking the mattress, dining room table, and the dishes.” She was a single mom with five kids. I’d seen her mattress during the few occasions I’d babysat, and my things were definitely an improvement. The dining room table was also a nice addition to the empty space she had where one would have normally sat, even though there weren’t enough chairs for her and all the kids. “My next-door neighbor is taking the couch, the bed frame, dresser, and coffee table for his daughter.”

“They’re coming to get it today?”

“Yep, but my neighbor upstairs is a single mom, and I want to help her.”

“Did you pay the rest of your lease off already?”

I glanced at him from the other side of the kitchen. “Not yet. I was going to go to the business office before I leave.”

“How much do you owe?”

I might have muttered the amount.

There was a pregnant pause before Aiden asked, “For a month?”

I coughed. “No, that’s two months.”

Was he breathing louder than normal? “Did I really pay you that little?”

Again with a comment about my place. “No.” I fought the urge to scowl. I had other things to spend my money on. I didn’t need to explain myself to him.

Did he roll his eyes? “I brought enough cash.”

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.

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.

It was really heavy, and I had a feeling I was going to pull my lower back. I did manage to smash my fingers into the doorjamb, hissing “Motherfucker” under my breath.

We were heading to grab the next piece of furniture when Aiden said over his shoulder, “You should think about doing some upper-body training.”

I made a face behind him. I might have even stuck my tongue out as I held my poor, mangled fingers with my good hand.

Luckily, moving the bookcase into Aiden’s office was a lot easier, and we didn’t have any problems. My new roommate carried the desk upstairs all on his own, and I hauled the chair. Apparently, either we both needed a break or Aiden recognized the signs of exhaustion that I was sure were all over my face, so we took a break to have lunch.

Then the awkwardness began all over again.

Was I supposed to make lunch or was he? Or were we each going to make ourselves food? I hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet, obviously, but Aiden had never been stingy with his groceries or complained when I had some, but…

“I have two pizzas in the freezer.”

“Pizzas?” Were we in the right house? This was Mr. Whole-Food-Plant-Based-Diet. The most processed he got was quinoa pasta, tofu, and tempeh every so often.

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “with soy cheese and spinach.”

I bit my cheek and nodded, watching and wondering what the hell had happened to him over the last month and a half. “Okay.”

With that, I turned on the oven like I had a thousand other times in the past. Unlike every other time, The Wall of Winnipeg went to the freezer and pulled out food on his own, getting the pizza stones out from a cabinet in a way that surprised me a little. At least when I was around, he never messed around with any of the kitchen items besides plates and utensils.

I went into the garage to throw the cardboard in with the rest of the recyclables and paused. Container after container of frozen microwavable vegan meals filled the bin.

The tiniest bit of guilt nipped at my stomach as I went back into the kitchen just as Aiden set the pizzas into the oven after a few minutes. I took the same seat I’d taken almost two weeks ago when I’d come by to talk to him about his offer. That strange silence seemed to grow as he took his favorite seat.

“Where’s Zac?” I asked, watching the huge muscles in his forearms ripple as he rotated his wrist in a stretch.

A tendon in his thick neck seemed to pop, and I knew it was in annoyance. “He didn’t come home last night.” Before I could say anything, he added in a voice I recognized as a disapproving one, “He said he’d be here.”

But he wasn’t. Zac going out wasn’t unheard of; he actually went out pretty often. Not coming back home wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence either. I’d talked to him a couple days ago briefly just to make sure he was going to be fine lying to authorities if he was questioned, and that he was okay with me moving in. He’d seemed to be more than okay with both.

“It’s fine,” I said, knowing full well from the way that tendon was straining it genuinely bothered Aiden. “So… what’s the next step with your green card thing?”

Aiden had his attention on his arm. “We should go ahead and get the paperwork over with first.” Paperwork. He was going with paperwork to describe what we were doing. Was I nauseous or did I suddenly get heartburn? “Soon.”

“How soon?” My voice sounded more cryptic than what was really necessary considering I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.

Those thick eyebrows kind of quirked, his jaw slightly twitched. “Before the season. I don’t want to wait until bye week,” he said, referring to the week off the team got during the season.

He still wasn’t answering my question. “Okay…”

“I have an early preseason game next week. Let’s do it then.” I choked and he ignored me, barreling straight through into his explanation. “We can’t file the petition until the paperwork is done. You should change the address on your license as soon as you can, but you need to have mail coming here. ”

What could I say? Let’s wait? What he was saying made sense. He really didn’t have more than a day off after each preseason game, and from what I remembered, most of them were always in the evening. That probably would be the best chance we had of getting it done.

But it still made the part of my personality that liked to plan things in advance and mentally prepare cringe.

Next week. We were ‘doing it’ in a week.

It was that easy. We needed to live in a house together, sign some papers, maybe take some pictures—was that even necessary?— and then… live the next five years of our lives.

I almost expected him to give me spirit fingers and say “Ta-da.”

That simple. It was that simple apparently.

I took in the man who was sitting across from me—the biggest man I had ever seen, the most restrained, who was for all intents and purposes, technically my fiancé—and let nausea and nerves roll around in my belly like puppies.

“My lawyer said it’ll be several months between you filing a petition for me and having my status adjusted until I get a conditional green card. We’re going to need a lot of paperwork; they’re going to ask for your bank statements. You’ll have to go with me once everything is approved to have someone at the Immigration office interview us. Will that work?” he asked, eyeing me warily, like he wasn’t positive how I was going to take his plan.

I swallowed my heart. I’d already read all of that stuff online in the days between when he’d showed up at my place and when I came to his and agreed, so I was mentally prepared. Mostly. “Yeah.” But the smile on my face was pretty damn faint.

What in the hell had I just agreed to?