Aurelia waited, her eyebrows traveling up her forehead the longer he took to respond.
“We don’t have to meet if you don’t want to,” he said at last.“I can just call with my edits.”
“Okay,” she said slowly.“If you’d rather.”
“It’s not that I’d rather.I just don’t want you to feel like we have to go over edits in person if that’s not your thing.”
They were both flummoxed now, each trying to give the other an out.
“Look, I’m always going to be tetchy about someone else’s edits.Whether we meet in person or talk on the phone, I can’t promise I won’t be.But I’ll try my best either way.”
She gave an apologetic smile and he smiled back.It was one of those smiles that reached every one of his features.
“Why don’t you get me the next pages when you’re ready.Once I’ve read them, I’ll call and you can decide whether to meet or go over them right then on the phone.”
“Perfect!I’d best go home and get back to writing, then.”
They walked out of the café together and said goodbye, each heading in a different direction.An irrepressible smile spread across Aurelia’s face as she walked toward the Tube stop that would take her home, feeling relieved.She might not be ready to set her heart on him yet, but—Antonia would be pleased—she now knew that she wasn’t ready to close the door on him either.
46
Overthefollowingweek,Aurelia flew through the next few chapters of Vronsky’s story.They wrote together at night, but her daily editing sessions began to incorporate more and more additions.Each night Vronsky would review what she’d written on her own, nodding his approval or pointing out something he didn’t like.Both of them felt pressure now, wanting to finish his story so they could get it published and try their experiment, relieving him from his monotonous ending.
But something else was driving her, too: she was finallydoing it, finally writing a novel after years of wanting to without getting very far.She’d written short stories before but had never written more than a few chapters of a novel.Now she had an editor and a publishing contract; she’d proven she could do it.And she’d never felt this confident with every word she wrote, with every paragraph she finished.The positive feedback she’d gotten from the characters—and Oliver, too—was wonderful, but what kept her going wasn’t just that she was helping Vronsky; it was also that she was doing the thing she’d always wanted to do, doing it well, and feeling so very good about it.
By Friday afternoon, Aurelia dropped off the next draft with the receptionist at Oliver’s office.But later, after so many late nights and long days of writing and editing, she missed her evening alarm and woke up disappointed the next morning—and still tired even though she’d had a few extra hours of sleep.
That night, she stepped forward as soon as the characters appeared, catching Elinor and Marmee first.
“I’m sorry I missed you all last night,” she began.“I didn’t wake up to my alarm—I was a little overtired, I think.”
Marmee’s eyebrows drew together as she took in Aurelia’s worry.
“We understand there are times when you’ll miss a night.You need to live your life and see your friends and family outside the shop.”
“Oh, right.Yes.”It was Aurelia’s turn to knit her brows.“Still, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I do not believe we have heard you speak of your friends for quite some time,” Elinor said.“I trust they are well?”
“Yes, they’re all fine.They’re annoyed that I’ve been so busy with the book, but they understand.”
Before Marmee could give her a lecture, Aurelia made her way over to her desk, eager to get back to work on Vronsky’s story.
Opening her eyes several hours later, it took Aurelia a moment to process where she was and what had happened.She sat up, rubbing the spot on her cheek that had been resting against the papers on her desk.
“Oh,” she said, looking around at the characters who were quietly observing her.“I fell asleep?I’m so sorry.”
She stood, stretching her strained muscles.
“Have I wasted the entire night?”
She looked to the clock and saw that there was only an hour or so left until dawn.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, finding Vronsky’s face in the crowd.
“Please, do not apologize,” he insisted.“Most people do sleep at night, Aurelia.”
“Yes, we worry you’re not taking care of yourself as you ought.Perhaps you should go upstairs now and rest a bit more?”Elinor suggested as she walked over to her.
