He looked concerned as he took in her tired eyes, her rumpled clothes, and her general state of disarray.
“I hope everything’s alright?”he asked.
“Yes!Everything’s great.I’m just on a writing jag and I lost track of the time.Please, come in.”
Mark had been hovering uncertainly in the doorway but took a few hesitant steps inside.
“I’ll make us tea,” Aurelia said as she disappeared into the back room.
“Is this the same book you’ve been working on?”
“It is!”she called out.“I’m nearly done now.”She emerged again.“Well, I was done, but then I realized it wasn’t actually finished, so I’m adding a bit more.”
After she brought out their tea, they chatted for a few more minutes before Mark began his wander around the shop.Aurelia looked longingly at her desk but knew that if she sat down to write again there was a good chance she’d be too distracted to remember he was even there.
When Mark eventually left, she stood at the shop door, debating what to do.She wanted to write and she wanted to sleep, and she couldn’t do either while running the shop.She walked to her desk and typed out a note on the typewriter that read, ‘Very sorry!Temporarily closed to write a happy ending.’
After posting the note on the door, Aurelia turned the lock and went back to her desk to keep writing.
57
Thenextfewdayswere filled with writing, sleeping, and editing.Aurelia didn’t leave the building, moving only between her flat and her desk as she drafted Vronsky’s love story.And she avoided the shop between midnight and dawn, since she wanted to focus on the book—and because she was afraid Vronsky would suspect she was up to something.
By Wednesday afternoon, she’d finished revising the existing chapters and had written a few new ones.Using what she’d learned about Vronsky from their many nights discussing what his life had been and what he wanted it to be, Aurelia had written him a love interest.That evening, she waited at her desk with the revised manuscript clasped in her arms.With all her talk about letting Vronsky choose his own future and no longer being powerless to an author’s whim, she was nervous about his reaction.
When the characters appeared, Aurelia greeted them all, but soon asked Vronsky to join her at her desk, where she placed the manuscript between them.
“Has Oliver given you more changes?”he asked.“I thought we had completed his revisions.”
“We did.But this is a new draft.I’ve added something—a few things.I’d like you to read it all the way through before I give it to him.”
“I have no doubt I will be satisfied with whatever little changes you have made.”
“These are… significant, not little.I realized your story wasn’t really done and I decided to try to help you—us—to finish it properly.”
Vronsky quirked an eyebrow, intrigued.
“I thought the ending was sufficient, but I am willing to consider your additions.”
He looked down at the manuscript, then back at Aurelia.
“Right,” she said, realizing the problem.“I’ll set it here, and you can nod when you want me to turn a page.”
“This will take some time,” he said, looking hopefully toward the conversations taking place around them.
“It’s important.”
Seeing her determination, Vronsky nodded, saying, “I understand.Let me begin.”
It took him several hours, but eventually he finished reading the new draft.At times he’d frowned, wrinkled his brow, or scoffed; at others, he’d smiled or nodded.But he didn’t stomp away or refuse to keep reading, which Aurelia took as a positive—or at least neutral—sign.Once she’d turned the last page, they were quiet, neither looking directly at the other.
“You have written me into a romance with a bluestocking,” he said softly.
Their eyes met, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.Aurelia smiled back in relief.
“Well, I thought you’d need a woman who would challenge you.”
“Challenge or harangue?”
