The hot water is so nice and I struggle between wanting to take my time and relax in the shower and wanting to rush through it. I'm not entirely sure I trust Edward not to snoop.
Seven minutes later, I'm out of the shower put on a pair of plaid pj bottoms and a clean t-shirt.
After running a brush quickly through my hair, I go back into the living room.
Edward is laying on my bed, having propped my pillows up, with his hands behind his head.
At first, I think he might be asleep.
"I'm not asleep, you know," Edward says, not opening his eyes.
I roll my eyes. "Do you want a drink? I've got..." I walk over to the fridge and open it up. It's basically empty. "...water."
"Is it bottled?" Edward asks. I look over to him. He's sitting up now with Snickers in his lap, petting him.
"Tap."
"That's okay. I ordered a bottle of coke with the pizza."
"Suit yourself." I take out a glass from the cupboard and half fill it, then guzzle it down.
It feels awkward in the room, so I busy myself with the stack of dishes in the sink.
I kind of do my own thing while Edward hangs out with Snickers. Luckily, I'm able to kill enough time until the pizza comes.
My mouth salivates when I see the pizza. I think the only thing I've eaten the past week has been toast and dry cereal.
At times like this I wish I had a table to eat at. Usually I just eat at my desk or on my bed. But it feels weird to have Edward sitting on my bed with me with the pizza between us.
We eat mostly in silence. He asks me about pie. He tells me about architecture.
I can tell he's dying to ask me what's wrong.
If he asks, I might tell him.
It might be nice to tell someone that isn't a therapist or a doctor.
San Francisco was meant to be a fresh start. In Forks, people had known my mother. In Jacksonville, there was Phil and his parents.
I steel my nerves and take a deep breath.
"You can ask, you know? You can ask me what happened."
So, what do you think happened?