Bubble Wrap

chapter twenty-two

THE OFFICE IS in full swing when I get in. Holly sits at the front desk, smiling when I walk in nearly two hours late to my day. And despite how warm and bubbly she is as I head for my office, I can't shake the feeling that this is wrong. I'm so used to seeing Maggie at that desk and not seeing her there, it feels like I'm on a desert island.

And I've never felt more alone.

I spent so much time alone that you'd think I'd be used to it, but then Charlie happened and despite thinking without him I became independent. This distance between Maggie and I, even after only two days, has proven my dependance only moved to Maggie. And I fear that this fracture of betrayal will be unfixable. We've never fought and now it feels like this thing between us has ruined everything I once knew to be true.

A knock on my office door distracts me before I can dwell on it for too long. "Hey Wheeler," Clark says after waiting a beat before opening the door. "How's Maggie?"

"She's doing a little better," I say even though it feels partly like I'm lying to him. "Thank you for letting us go yesterday."

"Of course," he says with the nod of his head as he steps into the office, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I just wanted to check in with you about your book. Have you heard anything from the author yet?" he asks and Maggie pops back into my head.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I twist in my seat, pulling on the sleeves of my mint cardigan. "Yeah, they are no longer interested in publication."

"Did another house pick up the book?"

I shake my head. "They just had a change of heart about the work they submitted."

"That's unfortunate," he says with a frown. "It was a great piece of work and I know how passionate about it you were, but you've got a great eye, Emery. You'll find another piece of work that you feel this closely related to."

The corners of my lips curl up as I sit up a little straighter in my seat, crossing one leg over the other as I smooth my hand over my thigh. "Thank you," I say. "It was upsetting, but there are a lot of incredible writers out there. I'll find something else."

He nods in the encouraging way he always does before excusing himself, leaving me to my own devices. For a while, I'm able to lose myself in my work. I find myself going to my happy place and losing myself in between the lines of a manuscript. Finding peace in the way the words make my heart ache.

I make a few calls out to the authors I'm currently working with about upcoming deadlines and how they're progressing in editing before diving into the newest manuscript that's landed on my desk. The words oozing with passion, but nothing about it feel raw or real. It doesn't feel right and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach has me wondering if I'm being too harsh. It's my job to get it to the realest place it can be.

I'm supposed to get it to the place where people feel connected to it, but the longer I stare at the page. Reading and rereading, hoping that another read will suddenly make it better. Make it rawer. Make my heart ache the way I need it to ache. The more I realize what a hidden gem The Way We Were was, and that it'll never find its way onto my shelf.

Instead I'm left daydreaming, hoping that something will fall out of the sky and into my lap. A knock at my office door pulling me out of my thoughts, and when I lift my head I find a tired looking Maggie in the doorway.

"Mags," I say, sitting up a little straighter in my seat. "Hi."

"Hi," she says. "Are you busy right now?"

I shake my head, standing as she steps inside. "I didn't think you were going to be up to coming in today," I say as she pulls on the sleeves of her jacket.