Shift

13. Aiden

What was I thinking, blurting out that I was getting married? I wasn't even sure that was what I wanted yet. Or was I? The idea was still going round and round in my head as I drove to the hospital. After the accident, I had regretted so much having refused John's proposals. I had promised to myself that if he'd turned out to be ok, I would marry him in a flash, and I meant it with all the love I felt for him. And he was ok!

Wasn't he?

There were other thoughts going round and round in my head as well: John's enraged face when he'd met Max, John yelling at the insurance lady, my sweet John...

I drove past the front of the hospital, noticing how the news vans and suspiciously vigilant people seemed to be gone for good. I went around the block and into the parking garage, cruising for my usual spot.

I knew I couldn't expect someone to behave exactly the same after something so serious happened. It was only normal to be a little erratic and disturbed.

I parked and turned off the engine before realizing I was in the wrong level of the garage. Sighing, I turned on the engine again and went around.

I rubbed my forehead. The pressure of the events was finally crashing down on me as well. Case in point, me going around telling people of my upcoming marriage even before proposing.

I locked the car, now correctly parked and made for the elevator.

Why did I have to confess that to Max, of all people? I could have waited to tell Delia. She would have liked to know. She would have been so encouraging.

Maybe that was why I didn't tell her, something inside me whispered, as I walked along a line of parked cars. Maybe I didn't want to be encouraged. Maybe I wanted to be talked out of it.

Nonsense! Why would I want to be talked out of marrying John? I love John!

You loved John, alright, the John from before.

A familiar yet strange rage red face flashed again before my eyes.

"Aiden!" a female voice called as I reached the elevators, startling me.

I turned around to find a woman striding in my direction. She was the journalist, reporter, or whatever she was, that had approached me the other day at the staff entrance. How did she know my name?

"I know I wasn't at my best on our first meeting, I'm sorry about that," she said. "But for what it's worth, I didn't know who you were, or I'd have been a little more tactful." She held out her hand for me. "I'm Jane, I'm with the Bondston Daily."

I shook her hand on instinct, when I should have left that very instant.

"And who am I, exactly?"

"John Raynor's partner." She must have noticed the frown I tried not to show, for she rushed to add. "Listen, I'm not going to ask any personal questions. I was just hoping you'll help me dispel some rumours that have been going around, that's all."

"Rumours? What rumours?"

I had stopped watching the news and even glancing at newspapers in those first days after the accident. Hearing reporters and news anchors speculate about John's state and prognosis had been too much for me.

"It is said there is evidence he crashed the car on purpose. There have been allegations of attempted insurance fraud."

That again!

"That's ridiculous!" I fumed. "Why would John do that? Even discounting his family's personal fortune, whatever amount they'd pay him for the car wouldn't even cover his quarterly income."