“There are the lies…” He trailed off with a sigh. “But then there’s also the fact that you’ve spent your nights with people—characters—and had entire conversations and experiences that you never even told me about. That’s hard to take, too.”
Aurelia wanted to apologize again and again, but the words ‘I’m sorry’ seemed wholly inadequate. He was pacing now, and she sat on the sofa watching him, her legs drawn up beneath her.
“And how have you managed to get your writing done when you’re down there at night and working in the shop all day?” he asked. “You wrote two whole novels while working full time and hanging out with characters all night?”
“Well, the characters helped me with the first one. Vronsky and I would come up with ideas and write together at night, and then I’d write when I could during quiet spells in the shop during the day.”
He looked as though she’d slapped him.
“You and Vronsky wrote the novel?Together?”
“We did, in a way. He was so unhappy at the end of his novel, and we figured out that one way to help him was to write him a new story that we could set out on the table.”
“Then it was just the two of you in the shop all night, banging out a novel?”
“No, there was a group of characters that first time,” Aurelia explained slowly. She didn’t like his tone; it was no longer expressing hurt but something colder. “All of the characters were there with us while we wrote.”
“You having to check my edits with Count Vronsky, telling me he wouldn’t say or do something, that was a joke between us. But now you’re telling me it was a private joke I wasn’t in on?”
“No!”
The word was practically ejected from her mouth as she jumped to her feet.
“I loved you teasing me about that—we were in on that together, you and me. It felt like I was sharing it with you, in a way. Actually, if I hadn’t started writing with him, I wouldn’t have had any reason to reach out to you,” she offered eagerly, thinking this might be a saving grace. “Once we decided to try and publish Vronsky’s story, that’s when James set up our lunch and you and I started working together.”
“The only reason you and I are together is because Count Vronsky wanted his book published,” he said flatly. “It was all part of the big lie and I had no idea.”
“No, Oliver—”
“And you didn’t write the book on your own.”
“That’snottrue—those are absolutely my words!” Aurelia was willing to take her lumps, but not to the point of letting Oliver believe—incorrectly—that her first novel wasn’t her own. “Vronsky and the other characters helped come up with ideas about what should happen, but it’s my writing. Vivienne and others in the book, they’remycharacters.”
“Even so… This book that I thought was something special between us was actually something special between you and Vronsky.”
“Oh, Oliver—no—I’ve never thought of it like that.”
She was horrified by the leaps and bounds he was making. She’d always been so focused on telling Oliver about the characters in general; she’d never thought about what would come after—that he’d have questions about who she’d met and what they’d talked about. As much as she knew he had it wrong, that he was jumping to conclusions that weren’t true, she understood each jump and felt terrible for not anticipating it.
“Itwasspecial between you and me,” she said desperately. “It’s how I fell in love with you. It’s what brought you and me together.”
“You, me, and Count Vronsky, apparently.”
“Please don’t make this something it isn’t. Vronsky and I were friends, great friends, but it was all about helping him. I gave him a love interest! I even met her after the book was published, and they were very happy together!”
“You met Vivienne?” He softened momentarily, but then the solidity of his hurt and anger returned. “Look, I think I need to take some time to work all of this out. I just need to think for a while, figure out what this means for us, for me.”
“Okay, I understand,” Aurelia said, her tone conciliatory. “I can clear out for a few hours.”
She moved toward the stairs as though to leave, but he raised a hand to stop her.
“No, I’m going to go. I’d rather think away from the shop.”
He walked toward the bedroom and Aurelia followed. She watched as he picked up his suitcase, not yet put away after his return yesterday, and opened it.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to throw a few things together.”
