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I park the car in the garage and head immediately to the bedroom, not even removing my shoes as I fall onto the bed. The tears begin to pour out of me as my head and shoulder ache. I have truly found myself in a harrowing predicament.
Thinking of this as the circumstances that brought about our first real interaction is humiliating. A collision? What a strange flirting technique. Destroy a very costly looking car so you can exchange numbers. Come on, Josephine.
My life is the opposite of a damn fairytale.
I cry my eyes out for some time, then I eventually drag myself to the kitchen for some ice. I use a bag of peas on my shoulder and an ice pack on my head. My father would not be happy to know that I went home instead of going to the hospital, but I put that on the back burner. He has enough to worry about when it comes to my mother.
I lay back down on the bed, trying to breathe a little deeper. The breathing eventually helps me drift off to sleep, the only place where I am not afraid or depressed.
I see Aiden in my dreams, looking as stunning as always, pulling me from the car wreck. Except the wreck in my dreams is much worse than what actually happened.
I am pulled out of the dream by the vibration of my phone, along with the symphony of harps. I grunt, irritated, and sit up to see who the caller is.
I feel my heart skip a beat when I see that it is Aiden.
10
AIDEN
Ifeel shaken after letting Josephine go. Maybe I should have insisted that she go to the hospital. She had been in such a rush to get away from me. There must have been something else that was wrong beyond the turmoil of our abrupt collision.
I drive off and decide to continue what I had originally planned, which was nothing in particular at all. Though it’s still running, I don’t want to drive very far in a car in this state. So after going along the road for only a few miles, I pull into a small motel.
I get a room and park the car somewhere secluded. I don’t need the cops on my ass questioning me about the damages. I need to figure out what to do with Josephine first, as well as the crap with my dad and the engagement.
I get to my room. Once the door is closed, I feel a sense of keen relief wash over me. It feels nice to be hidden away from the world where no one knows where I am. There is a sense of freedom in that.
I fall onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. In my head, I am replaying over and over again what had happened with Josephine, who had, before today, been just the woman from the coffee shop.
I take my phone from my pocket and decide to call her up. I am not sure what I am going to say about the damages to my ride. It will likely cost a fair amount but until I have an estimate, there’s no point in rubbing that in.
Besides, I’m not really calling about that. The truth is, I want to know if she is really doing okay. She didn’t seem okay after leaving.
So I press her name on my phone and wait as it rings. It goes to her voice message system. I try again, out of my own built up anxiety, to call her again. This time, she finally picks up on the fifth ring.
She sounds groggy. “Hi, Aiden? Is everything okay?”
I can’t help but to chuckle. I feel my heart begin to pick up the pace, even the sound of her tired voice getting me excited.
“I was calling you to ask you that same question,” I say slyly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You looked upset when we parted…not just because of the accident.”
I realize too late that perhaps I am being intrusive, judging by how flustered she sounds on the other end. I meant to be comforting, but it seems to put her on edge.
“Oh, I’m okay. Just the accident, you know…” she stammers, trailing off.
I take hold of the conversation, not wanting to put her on the spot any more than she already is.
“I was thinking about ways we resolve our own separate damages. Outside of the obvious money factor, you know?”
She pauses, waiting for me to go on. The truth is, I have no idea where I’m going, even when I start to speak again.
“I would like to meet up with you soon. Even tonight,” I admit. “So we can get this looked at,” I add hastily. “I have an offer I’d like to make to you, if that is alright.”
Josephine responds quickly, her tone being that of desperation rather than curiosity.
“I would like that. There’a a coffee shop not far from me…we can meet there in an hour or two, if you want?”
“Sounds great.”
