What If Just...

9 Vivian

"Fuck it," Aiden says out of the blue and turns the car around abruptly.

I look at him with eyes opened wide in surprise, trying to grab onto something so as not to fall off when the car is turning.

What made him change his mind?

Apparently, he noticed my questioning look.

"Don't look at me, I don't know why I'm doing this," he answers my silent question.

On the way I've already begun to scroll through various options in my head for what I can do when I return home to change the situation in which I find myself, completely rejecting thoughts of a new life on the other side.
Now, it seems, I need to switch again.

"Take the sandwiches from the backseat," Aiden asks softly.

"I don't want to eat..." I begin.

"No one says they're for you," he smiles brazenly, and I can't help but smile back.

"Is it okay to eat while driving?" I say, handing him the food tentatively.

"It's early in the weekend morning, we have to drive just a bit and I'm a confident driver, never got into any accident in my entire life," he informs smugly.

I don't say anything, just look at him for a while with suspicion.

It seems the pictures flashing outside the window have changed a little.

"Are we not going to your place?" I'm surprised.

"No, I'm taking you to my grandma's in the suburbs. I guess you'll be much more comfortable in a female company. And," he adds, "you'll be fed much better there."

I don't understand how Aiden feels about me.
One moment he wants to get rid of me as soon as possible, and the other he cares about me eating well.

Can I trust him if I can't predict his actions?

There is still awkwardness and tension between us.
I think he is just as confused by everything that is going on as I am.

"Here we are."

There is a cute two-storey cottage with a wonderful garden at the front - it's clear that no time or effort is spared to take care of it.

We enter the house and head immediately to the kitchen, where breakfast is being prepared.

"Hello," Aiden makes our presence known.

A beautiful blonde woman with exquisitely styled hair, in a burgundy dress and a light linen apron turns around, caught off guard. When she sees her grandson, she immediately breaks into a wide, affectionate smile.

"Aiden, honey, I'm so glad to see you! Are you staying for long?" she breaks off, noticing me behind the young man.

Aiden moves a little to the side to open the view.

"This is Vivian, we met yesterday. I hope you can take care of her when I'm busy," he says softly. Apparently, his grandmother plays a huge authoritative role in his life and is genuinely respected.

"Is she...?"

"Yes, she is a Martyr," he forestalls her question.

Concern runs over the woman's face, but she quickly changes it to cordiality.

"Hello, Vivian. My name is Grace, I'm Aiden's grandmother. I'll be really glad to get to know you."

Grace comes towards me with soft steps and gently squeezes my palm, looking into my eyes.

There is something magnetic about her, so as even I find it difficult to look away.

She turns back to her grandson.