Chapter 54
Two weeks passed and it was June, full of fine weather and longer days, but shorter nights to spend with the characters.
She and Vronsky had worked hard in the time they’d had to add to his story and build in each new round of edits from Oliver.
All of a sudden, on a Friday late in the month, they were finished.
“That’s it,” Aurelia said as she made a final note on the page they’d been editing.
“It? What is ‘it’?” Vronsky asked.
“It’s the end. We’ve finished the book.”
She’d known it was coming and thought it might happen that evening, but she was still awestruck to be drawing her hands away from pen and paper in an act of finality. She turned to look at him, smiles breaking out on both their faces.
“My story is complete,” he said, as if trying to believe it.
“It is—we’ve done it!”
Others came over to join them, asking if it were true and congratulating them.
She and Vronsky were swept up in the excitement, joining in their cheers.
Aurelia watched as everyone shook Vronsky’s hand or clapped him on the back and she wished she, too, could hug Marmee or shake Cuff’s hand.
They all agreed that the following evening, she would read them the final chapter of his story and they would celebrate as they had after hearing the first few chapters all those months ago.
“And now, Aurelia? When will you have a copy of the book?” Marianne asked.
“We’ve been aiming for an autumn publication date, so it should be just a matter of months. I’ll type up these changes tomorrow, then call Oliver and let him know we’re done.”
Aurelia wasted no time in calling Oliver the next morning to give him the news.
In honor of the occasion, he wanted to take her to dinner that night to celebrate.
She tried to argue for a celebratory lunch instead, but he was resolute.
Aurelia looked around the shop, worried at the possibility that she might get home late and miss the characters and their party.
But she reminded herself of her new resolution to get out more, and knew this was the perfect opportunity to do just that.
Aurelia sifted through the options in her closet that evening and began to realize that dinner with Oliver seemed like a date.
She saw him in the shop or out for coffee or lunch almost every week, but a nice dinner and dressing up felt a bit more serious.
Her thoughts were a muddle of excitement and worry and she shook her head in exasperation, determined to find something to wear that wouldn’t scream ‘date.’
Stepping out of a cab in front of the restaurant, Aurelia thought she might have overshot her outfit.
She was wearing a deep green dress with short sleeves, a high collar and an open back, along with her mother’s pearl drop earrings and a pair of wedge heels that wouldn’t risk life and limb on the uneven streets of Soho.
She walked to the door of the restaurant and was about to pull it open when she heard Oliver’s voice behind her, calling her name.
She turned and caught sight of him as he walked to join her.
He was in a navy suit and a white oxford shirt with two buttons undone instead of his usual one, and the grin on his face was contagious.
Aurelia let go of her worry about whether their dinner was a romantic overture and gave in—just for a moment—to the full-on tingles running over her skin at the sight of him.
“Look at you,” she said approvingly, trying to keep her tone light.
“You look… amazing,” he replied, shaking his head as he took her in.
He held the restaurant door open for her, giving her a chance to enjoy his compliment unobserved as she walked ahead of him.
Later, as they sat waiting for dessert to arrive, Oliver quirked his eyebrow at her.
“You remember our first date?”
After all these months, she was surprised to hear him mention that night since it had seemed like a forbidden topic.
“I do, in fact.”
“You were so incredibly rude—yawning, drifting off every time I started talking.”
His smile told her he was teasing her, wanting to get a rise out of her—and it worked.
“Me? What about you? Droning on and on, barely a smile, looking like it was torture to be in the same room with me!”
“Me?” he mimicked. “I recall you making all sorts of faces at that dinner with David and James, like you were in agony being in the same room with me.”
Aurelia covered her mouth, mortified at having been caught all those months ago. Oliver laughed and she joined in, glad they were both finally acknowledging the rough start to their friendship.
“Well, you still yawn on occasion, but I’ve mostly been able to keep your attention since then.”
“And you’ve thawed out quite nicely.”
Aurelia’s tone was more flirtatious than she’d intended, and her smile faltered.
Oliver clearly noticed, because his eyes were steady on hers as he said, “I know I’ve said it before… I’m sorry if I confused you, at the end of the date. But… I haven’t regretted that kiss.”
Aurelia tried to hold his gaze but had to look away.
It seemed impossible that he could really mean that after she’d spent ages reminding herself that he didn’t think of her that way—as someone he wanted to kiss.
Their dessert arrived and she pretended to be distracted by the business of refilling their glasses with more champagne and commenting on what each of them had ordered and whether they’d be willing to share.
By the time they left the restaurant they were both silly from the bubbly and the excitement of the evening.
Oliver offered to walk her home, but Aurelia solemnly pointed to her heeled shoes and shook her head, so they compromised by taking the Tube.
Once they were out of the station and walking toward the shop, though, their celebratory mood began to dissipate.
Aurelia struggled to find things to say, and Oliver grew serious.
She felt as though each step they took was bringing them closer to a decisive moment.
As they arrived at the shop door, Aurelia understood—the decisive moment was their goodbye, which would determine once and for all whether this had been a date.
She grew restless, fiddling with her bag, her coat, her keys.
She didn’t want to make eye contact with Oliver.
She was worried she might reach for him and put him in the terrible position of having to correct her mistake—Oh, I’m sorry.
You didn’t think I liked you—not like that?
“Aurelia?” He was trying to catch her eye, and she finally had to relent. She looked into his eyes and felt her heart leap. She was unaccountably scared, as though she were being backed toward the edge of a cliff.
Oliver stepped forward, reaching a hand to her arm and drawing nearer to her. She braced herself, knowing that if he got any closer she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from leaning in to brush his lips with hers.
“It’s almost midnight!” she burst out.
He drew back for a moment, looking appropriately confused by her sudden declaration.
“Are you afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin?”
“No,” she laughed. “And anyway, Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin—her coach does. You need to brush up on your fairy tales.”
Aurelia pushed at him playfully and he took the opportunity to pull her toward him and kiss her. Despite her earlier resistance, she felt her body relax into his as she kissed him back. It was just as good as it had been on their horrible first date. No, she realized quickly, it was better.
She lost all sense of where she was until she heard the faint sounds of the mantel clock inside the shop as it began to toll the hour.
She was very aware of the fact that they were standing in front of the shop and that she was usually inside, waiting to meet a collection of fictional characters.
The thought of them—and what Oliver would think if he even suspected her nighttime routine—jolted her back to reality and she drew away from him.
“I’m sorry, Oliver. I… I don’t—” Aurelia shook her head and closed her eyes, wishing for the words to express what she was feeling—wishing she could put her finger on what, exactly, she was feeling for that matter.
He stepped back, a crease between his eyebrows as his eyes traveled her face, trying to figure out what had happened.
“You said you weren’t interested in me,” she mumbled.
“I never said that,” he said decisively.
“You did—when you came by the shop after our date.”
“No, I said I was sorry for surprising you. And then you said you weren’t ready to date just then.”
“But I thought…” she began before trailing off. She’d been reminding herself of that conversation for months—did she really have it wrong all this time?
“Anyway, that was ages ago, Aurelia,” he reminded her, smiling.
“We’d only just met. I’ve seen you almost every day these past few months.
” He paused. “You remember telling me that I was dedicated?” He took a step nearer, tentatively reaching out to run his thumb over her cheek as he added, “Did you really think I only cared about your book?”
Aurelia frowned as she tried and failed to reconcile this new information with what she’d been telling herself over and over for so long. And he had just kissed her—you don’t kiss someone you don’t like. But then again, hadn’t he done just that on their first date?
“I did—no, I… I don’t know. I’ve been so focused on getting through the book,” she tried to explain. “I haven’t really thought about… us.”
She knew the lie was obvious as soon as it escaped her mouth and was about to continue trying to cover up the fib, but he held up a hand to stop her from explaining.
She reached for his arm, momentarily dazed by her ability to grasp it in her hand after so much time spent with characters she couldn’t touch.
“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m sorry for thinking—”
“No, don’t say that,” she said quickly as he backed away from her again, her arm dropping as he stepped out of her reach.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You’ve got your book and your shop. That doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”
It was Aurelia’s turn to feel hurt. The echoes of conversations with David and Marmee made her feel all the more bruised.
“It’s not just that. It’s a lot of things. I guess I’m just… too much of everything right now.”
“You seem just right to me,” he said quietly.
“No, it might seem like that, but I’m not.” Why was he trying to confuse her? “I’m sorry,” she added miserably, shaking her head as if that could order her thoughts.
Oliver nodded slowly and she felt like something had shifted between them.
“I’ll bring the final chapter by on Monday, okay? I’ve made all your edits this time, so you’ll be very pleased.”
Her forced, cheery tone was grating even to her own ears, but he made an effort to smile and she was grateful for it.
“Thank you for a fantastic celebration,” she added. “My feet are killing me, and I’m stuffed, but it was perfect.”
Oliver looked desperate to leave. She took out her keys, wanting to hurry inside to give him an opportunity to escape.
“I’ll be expecting a Michelin-star meal when the book is published—you’ve spoiled me completely,” she added as she opened the door.
“Well, it’s quite an accomplishment. You should be very proud, Aurelia. Goodnight.”
She watched him walk away as she stood in the doorway, and of all their goodbyes, it was the first time he didn’t turn around.
“He didn’t wave,” she said under her breath, feeling all too keenly that she might have just made a very big mistake.
As his outline faded into the distance, she remembered that it was now past midnight and the shop behind her was empty.