ThepatternofAurelia’slife shifted yet again.She and Vronsky came closer and closer to finishing the book, and seeing Oliver a few times a week became a regular thing.Sometimes he would pop in to say hello on his way to a meeting, other times they would go out for coffee, lunch, or a walk with Biscuit.
Aurelia was convinced that he’d filed her away as a friend and colleague, just as she’d done with him, and she understood why.Still, there was something about thepresenceof Oliver after so many nights spent in the shop with characters she couldn’t touch.At random moments, she found herself thinking back to the nearness of his body as they’d walked next to each other through a park, or as he’d sat across from her at lunch or next to her in the shop.But Oliver was more than just a solid body; he was also a puzzle that she found herself wanting to work out.
It didn’t matter, though, as she knew she’d ruined any chance of being more than friends with him, even if she had been ready to start dating again.Anyway, as she frequently reminded herself, she shouldn’t let herself get distracted so close to the end of her writing project.Then, of course, there was also the matter of timing—between running the shop during the day, spending time with the characters at night, and working on her book in between, she felt certain that adding one more element to the mix might overbalance her life and send everything toppling over.
Oliver wasn’t the only one Aurelia had pushed to the sidelines of her life; other friends, too, had been patiently waiting for her to return to a normal routine outside of her shop, her flat, and her book.David, for instance, had announced that he wanted a blow-out night for his birthday that year, which he’d translated for Aurelia as a big dinner out with friends followed by dancing and many, many drinks.
“That’sdinner, Aurelia,” he’d informed her.“After dark, you understand?You’ll have to leave the shop and join me and other peopleafterthe sun has set.”
On the night of the party, David’s crowd of friends helped him to celebrate his birthday so thoroughly that by eleven o’clock, he was too busy drunkenly singing along to the music blaring in the bar to notice Aurelia checking her watch every few minutes.Once she saw that it was nearly midnight, though, she knew she’d never make it home in time.The realization allowed her to relax and enjoy herself, and she threw herself into the festive spirit with the rest of them.She couldn’t think of the last time she’d danced so much or laughed so hard.It was a perfect party other than the one moment when she found herself wishing that Oliver had been able to join them instead of having to attend a launch party for one of his authors.
When the party finally started to break up, David cornered her, a look of drunken determination on his face.
“Aurelia,” he slurred.“You’re overdue for a telling-off.”
She raised her eyebrows as if to challenge him, but she was just as wobbly as he was.
“So busy, no time for anything but your book,” he continued, pointing a finger at her that slowly started dipping to the floor as he tried to keep steady.
“I know,” she said, putting on her best apologetic face.“But it’s almost finished, I promise.”
She reached out to hug him, but he stepped away, nearly falling over before recovering his balance.
“You’re blind to everything but that book.Including the fact that Oliver likes you.”
“David,” she began, swatting at him ineffectively in her inebriated state.
“No, Aurelia,” he said, pulling himself up.“Don’t ‘David’ me.Helikesyou.”
“He doesn’t,” she said, suddenly sobering up.“He told me—made it quite clear that he doesn’t like me at all.”
A sudden slideshow played in her mind of all the times she’d seen him lately—how she sometimes felt there might be something else there—but she shut it down, sending her mind back to his first visit to the shop to cure herself of those more recent memories.
David frowned, thrown from his conviction that she and Oliver were a project he could make happen.
“It’s alright,” she said, throwing her hands up as though she couldn’t have cared less.“I have you, don’t I?”
She felt her forehead pucker in disappointment, completely undermining her declaration.She cursed her drunken state, blaming that instead of the hurt she felt thinking that Oliver wasn’t—would never be—an option.David’s face crumpled in sympathy and he pulled her into a hug.But what started as a genuine hug of consolation led to each of them trying to keep the other upright, which set them laughing again.They stumbled out of the bar and into the cabs James had found for them, waving goodbye as each left in opposite directions.
She’d been laughing as her cab pulled away, yet somehow, on the ride home it was hard to tamp down her disappointment that David had finally seemed to accept that Oliver didn’t like her, which meant there was no one left to push them together.
That disappointment doubled when she remembered she’d be returning home to an empty shop.
51
ItpainedAureliatoget out of bed to open the shop the next morning, and she doubled-up on coffee in an effort to both wake up and defeat her headache.She waited until noon to call David to check in on his hangover, but James answered David’s phone to report that David was incapable of speech or movement until further notice.
Oliver was due at the shop that evening to walk through his latest edits, giving Aurelia a few more hours to recover before she’d need to get her brain fully functioning.She’d gotten marginally better at taking his feedback.They sometimes argued, and other times nodded together in agreement over a scene that needed to be moved, or a theme that had developed late in the novel and needed to be worked into earlier scenes.With each passing day, Aurelia saw the novel coming together, getting better and stronger, and she thrilled at the feeling of pride.They were closing in on the end now—early chapters polished and ready to go, and later chapters nearly finished but not yet finalized.
When Aurelia met Oliver at the door to let him in after closing, he was holding a takeaway bag filled with food while carrying Biscuit.
“Rolling bag,” he explained, nodding toward the street.
Aurelia still laughed every time she saw the dog—especially now, as Oliver put him down and he nearly tripped Oliver in his eagerness to be as close as possible to his favorite human.Fezz was up on the window seat, pretending to be asleep and unbothered by the new arrivals.He’d seen Biscuit a few times now, and he treated him just like Mrs.Smith’s dog—with cautious indifference.
An hour after Oliver had arrived, they were sitting at her desk with takeaway boxes strewn over her notes and his edits, and Biscuit asleep at their feet.Oliver was pointing to the pages of a scene he claimed wasn’t working.
“He’d never say that,” Oliver insisted.
