The ride to the airport was the most awkward thing ever. Francesca urged me to come see her off at the airport, with Edward driving us all.
It's not just irritation, though. It's a lot of residual feelings seeping out, unstoppable and palpable. And it's impossible to sit next to Edward and not have my mind race with memories. Whenever I stole a glimpse of Edward out of the corner of my eye, or when I caught a whiff of his shampoo or cologne. It's all dangerous territory, being trapped with him, unable to walk away and take deep breaths, to convince myself that it's fine, to stop thinking about him and our situation.
If the couple caught on to the shift in our mood, no one said anything. There's still blatant hurt, but now there's confusion with a little bit of relief mixed in. When Edw
