He opened drawers and took out clothes.
“But… Where are you going?”
“I’ve just said—I need some time to think.”
“You’releaving?”
Aurelia’s breathing became ragged as she fought back a sob.
“Please don’t do this. Please stay and let’s work this out. I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry.”
She stood limply in the middle of the room, wanting him to look at her, to say he didn’t mean it, that everything would be fine.
“Oliver, please… stay. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Aurelia. But right now you’ve got to give me some space.”
He walked into the bathroom and grabbed his toiletry kit, still intact after his trip. She followed behind him, then had to let him by as he made his way back into the bedroom. Tears were flowing down her face now.
“What can I say to make you stay? Don’t go—you need to stay here so we can work this out.”
He zipped his suitcase closed and carried it to the bedroom doorway, where she stood barring his way.
“Please, Aurelia.”
She considered refusing to move, then thought of all the decisions she’d made that had gotten them to this point. The lies and secrets had been all hers. She thought she would break if he walked through the door but also knew that she owed him this after everything she’d left unsaid these past few years.
She nodded and stepped aside, her hand reaching out to brush his arm as he passed.
He walked to the staircase and she followed him, then stood staring as he stepped down them at speed. He didn’t turn as he closed the door behind him at the bottom of the stairs, and she let a cry escape her. Stumbling to the windows overlooking the square, she wiped at the tears that had started falling so she could see him clearly once he emerged from the shop. She began crying in earnest, now, barely able to catch a breath.
There—he began crossing the square and she waited, hoping, but he didn’t turn to wave back at her.
37
Thenexttwenty-fourhourswere bleak. The rain hadn’t let up and the skies were steadfastly overcast, adding an all too appropriate atmosphere to Aurelia’s mood. She shifted from sadness to anger—at herself, the shop, Oliver, Antonia, Julia, and back to herself again. It always turned back to her, where she knew very well her anger and blame belonged.
After Oliver left, it took several hours before Aurelia felt up to calling Antonia, not least because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak in coherent sentences through her tears. Aurelia had wanted to call Oliver if she didn’t hear from him by nightfall, but Antonia suggested giving him the space he’d asked for rather than hunting him down. Aurelia didn’t appreciate this advice but decided, nevertheless, that she probably ought to follow it.
Her feelings were further complicated by the fact that she couldn’t ask David or Kali to talk her through what had happened or ask how to fix it. She didn’t want to make the circle of people who knew about the shop any wider, since it might grow too large for her to manage. She was alright, after all—no one was ill, no one was injured. She’d simply made a fairly monumental mistake and would have to work it out on her own.
A call from Louisa the next morning didn’t help matters. Aurelia had missed her deadline; she’d been so wrapped up in what had been happening in the shop and with Julia, Antonia, and Oliver that she’d completely forgotten about it. Apologizing profusely, she’d explained to Louisa that a family emergency had come up. She didn’t like realizing just how true her statement to Oliver had been—that lying came naturally to her now—and that she was lying, still, even after her secret was out. But ‘family emergency’ wasn’t entirely off the mark in describing what was happening in her life at the moment. After Aurelia’s promise to send a copy of the nearly finished draft as soon as she was off the phone, Louisa agreed to give Aurelia until a few days before the wedding to send her revisions to the last few chapters.
The wedding. As the hours wore on, Aurelia began to ask herself the question that she’d stubbornly ignored after Oliver had left: would he still want to marry her? That question didn’t help her tears and regret. She wondered where he’d gone, and why he hadn’t called to at least let her know that he was alright, even if he didn’t want to say any more than that. Was his lack of contact a sign that he wanted to break things off for good? Or would he come around once he’d had time to vent his hurt and find a path forward? Without him there to tell her, she had no answers.
In the meantime, the shop remained closed. Aurelia hadn’t bothered to post a sign explaining why she’d closed it or for how long. She’d also avoided the characters the night before by stepping out of the shop just before midnight, only to return inside after a few minutes to ensure they wouldn’t appear. On the one hand, she couldn’t quite face them given that their appearance was tied to her current predicament, and on the other, she thought that the combination of Mrs. Jamieson, Blanche, and Miss Clack might combust if she were to leave them unchaperoned for any amount of time.
The routine of walking Biscuit, of feeding him and Fezz, felt like the only thing keeping her from sinking more deeply into the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Aurelia had been dozing on the sofa, an open book on her chest, when she heard a faint knocking.
Watching television and reading had seemed like decent ways to pass the time since she wasn’t working, but she couldn’t focus on anything without having questions and worry about Oliver pierce her thoughts. Sleep seemed to come easily to her, perhaps because her eyes were puffy from tears and so were nearly closed already, or because she’d slept poorly so many nights in a row.
As the knocking continued, she pulled herself up from the sofa and went to the window. She spotted David below, looking up at her. He waved and then pointed to the shop, no doubt wondering why it was closed.
Aurelia motioned for him to wait and went down to fetch him.
“What’s happened?” he asked as he took in her face and the tears that were already pooling in her eyes.
