Edgeworth made no protests, didn't call Wright back. He simply watched, expression indecipherable, as his companion...his friend walked away. Their waiter arrived shortly after; Edgeworth handled his portion of the bill and left without what remained of his lamb dinner. He climbed into his car slowly and leaned back in the driver's seat for several minutes, breathing deeply, his eyes fixed on some unseen point past the steering wheel.

The entire evening had hurt--too much, and that was the problem.

He drove home carefully, finished packing and made a few last-minute arrangements.


-End-