The next day, Edward was not, in fact, doing better. He was doing worse. So, I suggested we go back, but then we had a bit of an argument about whether we should actually do so or not. 

“But it is our honeymoon, love! And besides, we have hardly stayed here in the countryside. Please, just one more day?” Edward had begged, a pleading look in his eyes. He was, suspiciously, more adamant about this than I thought he would be. Is it because he does not want me to see Margaret?

“No, I insist. We are going home. We can always come back to the countryside for a vacation some other time. Your health is more important to me than some honeymoon. Besides, we’ve already spent most of our vacation anyway, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Please, get some sense through your head,” I snapped at the end, losing my patience with him. The truth was, I also wanted to go home sooner because I wanted to see Margaret.

“No, but I insist we stay. At least one more day. Why would you want to go back? To see her?” Edward spat at the end.

My eyes widened in horror. “Who’s her?”

“You know who. None other than Margaret.”

I blinked in shock. “No! Get this idea out of your head once and for all, Edward: WE ARE NOT IN LOVE! WE ARE JUST FRIENDS!” I shouted, losing my temper. I clenched my fists, wanting to hit a hole in one of the perfect-looking bedroom walls, but of course, this wasn’t my house, so I couldn’t.

Edward was actually taken aback by my sudden outburst. “I—uh. Okay. Fine. But we should still stay another day.”

“NO!”

Edward, at this point, was at a loss for words. He’d never seen me lose my temper so badly before. As a result of not knowing what to do to bring my temper down to a simmer, he finally gave me the answer I wanted: “Fine. We’ll pack and head home, then.”

“Okay, good. I am doing this solely out of my concern for your health, not because of some friend of mine. I am genuinely worried about you, and I care about you a lot. If you haven’t realized that yet, let this be the time you realize it,” I told Edward, my temper cooling to a mere annoying sizzle running through my bones.

I then went around to get my things and begin packing. After about twenty deathly silent minutes, Edward finally apologized: “I am sorry. I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about you two being together. I am sorry.”

“It’s not okay, Edward. You did this to me just about a week ago. I can forgive, but I will not forget. Please stop getting on my bad side, or it will cost you. I only have eyes for you! Get that through your head!” I insisted, folding my dress neatly into the suitcase.

“I know. I’m sorry. I will not do this again, I swear.”

Yeah, sure. You said those exact words last time. Whatever you say.

Now, we’re having breakfast in the kitchen: more scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. Edward has an awfully big appetite today, for some reason. Even more so than the days prior. What sickness causes symptoms like these? This is abnormal. I think to myself, trying to contemplate what might have plagued Edward.

After breakfast is over, Edward helps me clean the dishes and put them away, an act of him trying to make me forgive him. But it does not always work that way, now does it? Oh, men think that just by being more helpful they’ll get a woman around. Again, it doesn’t always work that way!

Just as I finish wiping dry the last plate, Edward places his hands on my shoulder, attempting to get me to turn around and face him.

“Oh, what now?” I sigh, reluctantly turning around to face him.

“I love you. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’ve been such an asshole to you ever since we got married. Maybe not all the time, but a number of times. Please try to let this go, love.” He wraps his arms around me, and I put the plate down so he can do so without me dropping and breaking it. However, I did not return the hug immediately.

Finally, after a few moments of consideration, I hug him back, because I decide it would be best for our relationship together. He then pulls me away from him and peers into my eyes, desperation clearly in his brown eyes. He leans down and kisses me on the lips gently, apologetically, trying to make me get over this. Why do men always act this way after an argument? It’s a bit… toxic.

I end up kissing him back, but pull away soon after. “We best leave as soon as possible. Get our luggage and I’ll put away the rest of the dishes.”

We arranged to have Clement drive us back home, all for free, though we insisted on paying him. It was easy to arrange because he came by our place early to check on Edward.

“Nonsense!” Clement had exclaimed when we suggested paying him. “Edward’s one of my closest friends, and you are his beloved wife. I am doing this out of my love and concern for Edward. If you pay me, I will not drive you guys to your house.”

“Oh, fine,” I’d sighed. Clement had put down whatever argument could have been given with his reasoning.

Edward came down the stairs carrying our two suitcases, and I put the plate into the cabinet.

“Alright then, let’s go,” Edward says, sighing. He thinks he’s sighed softly enough that I didn’t hear him, but I heard him. I hear everything. He still must be devastated over the fact that we’re leaving so soon. Oh well. I think to myself, making myself comfortable so I can sleep as well. I did not sleep well the night before. Guess I’ll just rest for the rest of the journey. Nobody seems to be in a talkative mood, anyway.

By the front door, I put on my black Mary Janes, and with that, we exit the house, greeted by the sight of Clement’s carriage right in front of the country house. Perfect timing, as always.

We enter the carriage, greeted by Clement’s warm hello. And, to our surprise, June is also there.

The carriage has three seats, so I sit in the middle, with June on my left and Edward on the right.

“What are you doing here?” I question June as she wraps me in her warm, soft embrace.

“I figured I’d keep you company. I thought Edward would be sleeping most of the ride, so I thought the least I could do was save you from boredom.”

“But what about Vivi and Grace?” I question, a little concerned.

June laughs quietly, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “My parents came over this morning, so they’re dealing with the two little devils right now.”

“Devils, huh?” I ask, questioning her word choice.

“Yes! Oh, you have no idea what happened yesterday. After you left, I decided to make ice cream with the girls instead. All was fine until Grace decided to take out the ice cream a bit too early and eat it with her bare hands! And then she took some and smeared it all over Vivi’s dress. Vivi got a bit mad, but she got her revenge: she put ice cream in Grace’s hair.”

“Then what happened?” I query, interested in this silly little story. When Edward and I were there, they acted decently. Maybe they are little devils after all, just as June said.

“Well,” June begins. “I knew something was going on when I heard Vivi and Grace screaming, so I rushed over to the kitchen, and next thing I know, I see melted ice cream in both Grace and Vivi’s hair, matting it, as well as being on their dresses and on the floor. Oh, it was such a mess!

“Then I began shouting at them, but Clement came, and he told me to calm down, that I was overreacting, and that we still had plenty of ice cream. So, he and I went upstairs to wash the girls after we put the ice cream back in the freezer and mopped up the mess on the floor.

“We brought them back downstairs as soon as we were done, which wasn’t too soon; it took us about one hour to wash the ice cream out completely from their bodies and clothes. But it was fine. We ended up eating ice cream together in the living room. It still tasted amazing.”

“What flavor was it?”

“Strawberry vanilla,” June replies, staring off at the moving trees around us, seeming to long for more of the ice cream.

I look around at our surroundings as well, and I realize that we’re about halfway through the journey.

I turn back to June, who’s still staring at the moving trees. “What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“The pregnancy. I told Clement about it last night.”

“And? What did he say?”

“He was…” June begins, biting her lip, trying to find the right words. “He was happy, but also a bit hesitant with the news. He didn’t quite believe me. He still doesn’t. And I told him that I know my body, and I know the symptoms of pregnancy, since I’ve been pregnant before. But still, he doesn’t one hundred percent believe it. I mean, maybe he’s right: maybe I am just sick after all, and the sickness I have has the same symptoms as being pregnant.”

“I don’t think you are sick. I mean, I’ve never carried a child myself before, but from what it sounds like, and from what I know, you are pregnant. I’m sure Clement will come around after he sees that your symptoms still persist. And, if he wants to, he could take you to a doctor to confirm the news. He won’t be able to have any doubt then.”

“Maybe,” is all June says, staring into space once again, rubbing her gold cross embellished with swirls between her fingers, lost in thought.

I let June be for a little while, and I turn to Edward, wanting to talk to him, but of course, he’s fast asleep, snoring slightly. Fortunately, his snoring is, for the most part, drowned out by the sound of the carriage driving on the gravel road. I’m pretty sure only I can hear it, since I’m seated right next to him. I’m basically the sound barrier between Edward and June. Oh well, I think to myself, making myself comfortable so I can sleep as well. I didn’t sleep well the night before. Guess I’ll just rest for the rest of the journey. Nobody seems to be in a talkative mood anyway.