Filtered sunlight greeted my eyes the moment I opened them. I instinctively closed them again, shielding myself from the light, though it wasn't particularly harsh. Having just awoken, my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the brightness; they were still accustomed to the comforting darkness of sleep.

"What time is it? Where are we?" I questioned groggily, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to wake up. If I could, I'd splash some cold water on my face—​that usually did the trick—but unfortunately, there was none nearby.​

Clement glanced back at me for a brief moment, his auburn hair partially covering his eyes, before checking his wristwatch. "It is precisely one fifty-five. We're almost at your place; we should be there by two ten at the latest."

"Okay," I grumbled, squinting at the light.

"You are awake!" June exclaimed, shaking me slightly to rouse me further.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Mmm, around an hour, I'd say. I was so bored without you to talk to! I began speaking to you, but when I realized you weren't responding, I turned to look at you, and it turned out you were sleeping! Clement and Edward, since he'd woken up at the time, both started to laugh at me. It was so embarrassing!" June buried her face in her hands, her cheeks turning a medium shade of pink at the recent memory.

"It was funny, though!" Clement laughed, shaking his head. "Don't be so embarrassed; I'm your husband, after all, and Edward is a family friend. You should have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I guess," June conceded, lifting her face from her hands.

I stretched my arms slightly, careful not to jab Edward with my elbows, but as I did so, he stirred.

"Where are we?" Edward asked as he became coherent enough to form a sentence.

"We're almost there," Clement replied, not looking back as he responded. "Just a few more minutes."

"Why did you wake up?" I asked Edward, puzzled.

"You hit me with your pointy elbow. I don't know how you did it, but that's what I remember. Then I woke up because of it."

"My elbow? How would you know whether or not it was my elbow?"

"Because I've been hit by it so many times that I can recognize when it hits me. I guess I even can in my sleep."

"Huh," I muttered, a smile creeping across my face. Though it was the last thing I wanted—since I wanted Edward to know I was still mad at him—I couldn't control the smile. It controlled me instead.

"What?" Edward demanded, straightening himself up from his prior slouchy, improper position.

"Nothing," I replied, stifling a giggle.

"I don't know if you're thinking the same as me, Florence, but that's some trauma right there if I do say so myself," June quipped, looking straight at Edward.

"What? What trauma are we talking about?" Edward cocked his head in utter confusion.

"Well, if you've been attacked so many times by Florence's elbow that you know exactly when it hits you, you must've gained some form of trauma, right?"

It was when June said that I could no longer hold in my laugh.

"It's not funny," Edward groaned in mock annoyance, though one could obviously tell he was, in fact, a bit amused due to the way the corners of his thin lips perked up slightly.

"Oh, cheer up," I told Edward, punching his shoulder lightly in a playful manner. Maybe I wasn't mad at him anymore. I'd give him another chance. Then again, I always did. Was that a healthy thing to do? Maybe I should ask Margaret about this; she'd know the answer.

I rested my head on Edward's shoulder while he stroked my hair, which I'd decided to leave down today, trading it for my usual updo of some type of braid or another.

June looked from Edward to me, a soft, knowing smile on her face, then back to Edward and then to me again, as if saying, You two are so adorable together.

For the rest of the ride to our little cottage in Bashayle, I continued to rest my head on Edward's shoulder while he played with my brown curls.

"Aren't you sleepy?" I questioned Edward, whose eyes were half-closed.

"Not really. I just feel…lazy. That's the best way to put it. What, is it that my eyes are only partially open?"

"Yeah, but as long as you're not tired, that's good. But we're still taking you to a doctor."

I looked up at Edward's face and caught him rolling his eyes, displeased. "Fine. But I'm only doing it to give you some peace, Florence."

"Edward!" Clement snapped. A little shock went through my bones; I'd never heard the man snap, nor had I seen him angry or annoyed. To me, my impression of him was that he was an easy-going man. I was also just genuinely shocked that he got mad at Edward; I didn't understand why he did. So did Edward feel the same way, as he sat with his mouth gaping open, his hand that was playing with my hair paused mid-air.

"This is serious! You need to see the doctor because you're sick! Stop dismissing it like you're fine. People who are fine don't feel like sleeping as much as a baby does throughout the day. Hell, I'm sure even babies don't sleep as much as you do! And also that atrocious appetite of yours is not normal. Take this seriously. We're all worried about you, and you're just dismissing us like we're worried about nothing. It's rude."

Clement calmed down by the time he'd finished his little lecture directed at Edward, and he was now taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself even more.

"I'm sorry," Edward stammered at last, at a bit of a loss for words. June was also just as shocked as Edward and I were. Perhaps my impression of Clement was right, since even June wasn't expecting this. Perhaps this happened only once in a while.

"I mean, I know you don't like people worrying about you, but please don't just invalidate our emotions. That's not right, either. I don't think you mean to, though, so it's okay. And sorry for blowing up a little; I've been stressed about you and other matters the past day. I'm not mad at you. I was just a bit annoyed."

"That's alright. I'd never want to make you all feel like I don't care about your feelings. I won't do that again, I'm sorry."

We traveled the rest of the time in silence. But fortunately, that wasn't for long, maybe just eight more minutes, since we were almost home anyway when Clement snapped.

Clement pulled in front of our stone cottage, the wheels of the carriage dragging on the dirt path. Our cottage was located in the middle of the woods, so there was no road to it, just a path that could barely fit a carriage, even the one that Clement was driving, which wasn't too big.

Edward stepped out first, then I followed his lead. I breathed in the scent of the earth. The countryside also had a slight earthy smell, but not as much as where our cottage was.

And of course, the ocean had no earthy smell—it carried something far different. A fresh, salty breeze, brimming with movement and distance. It was a lovely scent, undeniably cleansing, but it didn’t feel like home. The woods, though…the woods smelled like memories.

Clement dismounted his horse—the silvery one, though under the dense canopy of the surrounding trees, its coat appeared more a dusty gray than its usual shimmering hue. The creature gave a soft exhale, a sigh from its flared nostrils as it settled near the fence.

I started down the length of the stone path leading to the house, my boots clicking gently against the uneven stones. In the cracks between the rectangular slates, tiny blades of grass and small weeds pushed their way up, brave and determined. Around me, the peonies had bloomed in full force. Their citrusy, almost lemony scent greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the damp, rich perfume of the soil. The air was wet, thick with petrichor. It must’ve just rained. The world around our little cottage felt freshly washed, like it had been waiting for our return.

“Wow,” June breathed from just behind me. “Your cottage is so cozy and beautiful.”