They double checked the old  windows offering both light to the readers and protection to the many well-used, dog-eared volumes filling the tall shelves. One of the women then set the alarm, before the three of them walked out of the building together.

Sophie followed her two friends closely down the narrow, gravel path, then pushed past them as they stopped by the library's gate, chatting.

Another long day was over, she mused, looking up into the intricately interlaced branches of the only, huge, ancient tree, taking up most of the tiny square of garden which belonged to the library.  But was it... Oh, no! It was... Friday.

"Bye girls, see you on Monday." She mumbled hastily, trying to disappear before they would notice her escape.

"Oh, why are you rushing so much? What about our night out, you haven't forgotten, have you?"

She... actually had. It had been a busy, tiring week, during which Sophie, a daytime librarian and a nighttime secret writer, spent every single free minute by polishing her first novel.

A project, which had been sitting shyly at the bottom of her drawer for months, until a few days ago, when she took it out, resolved to publish somewhere. Anywhere, even on that site where she usually posted her short stories and poems. Just to give her book, the characters she had created and fell in love with, a chance to live in someone else's imagination but hers. She suddenly felt bad for having kept them hidden under her pyjamas and lingerie for so long.

But as she reread the pages and pages typed hastily on her smartphone now, she spotted an infinity of typos, a few grammar mistakes, and even a tiny plot hole. She wanted to fix them all before copying the whole manuscript to the aspiring writers' site, for people she had never met to see, read, and criticize.

No one would probably like it, anyway, but still, she wanted to make it as good as it could get, then publish it, fast, before she would lose the courage... And she really needed to finish it tonight, before her boyfriend would come home from his five days long business trip.

There was just no way to concentrate on writing when he was around, life had a completely different rhythm then. There was always something to clean and tidy, dinners to cook, friends and family to meet... Once she used to laugh at all those professional writers declaring when interviewed that they preferred to close themselves alone, in secluded, inspiring places to write, or at least to polish their books. Now, when she tried writing herself, she came to understand them. She also understood the importance of the first reader, someone who would see the story with a fresh pair of eyes and an unbiased mind.

Surprisingly, when she had mentioned it to Liam before he left, he, who had never read a line of hers before, offered himself to be the first reader of her novel. He would go through her book over this week of their forced separation and provide some feedback, he promised.

So, Sophie printed all those pages for him and packed them to the luggage he was carrying for his journey, asking him to underline any mistakes he would come across and comment any ideas he might have while reading. He said he would, and she was excited about it.

At first she was, at least. But as she reread the story during the week herself, she started to regret that idea. A... different Sophie than the one Liam knew rose like a phoenix from the strings of words scattered like ashes over those pages. The timid, secret part of her which shied away from real life and preferred to keep quiet and hidden in her own, fantastical world... Sophie, whom Liam had never really met, despite all those years they lived together.

What would he say, how would he look at her now, after having visited the world into which she escaped every time she wrote, the faraway, fantasy land she preferred so much to reality? She shouldn't have given it to him, she thought now. He wasn't much of a reader, anyway, Liam told her so more than once. And after the years of living together she saw that even that was a huge exaggeration... He just didn't do books, fullstop.

She was so anxious about what he would tell her that she never asked him if he started reading her novel when he called her daily, in the evenings, and by now she could think of nothing else. Sophie sighed heavily, realising that her two friends were still standing in front of her, waiting for her answer.

"I... forgot, I'm really sorry but Liam is coming back tonight, you know, and I must do some shopping and cook..." She looked at her friends apologetically. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Have fun!"

Sophie ran down the street, away from them, before they could stop her. She zig-zagged across the road congested with the slow moving rush hour traffic and descended the stairs leading to the underground platforms of the noisy, crowded tube trains.

She spent half an hour on the overheated, oxygene lacking train, thinking about what to cook for dinner and medieval half-armour, the wine she meant to buy and horses, the dress she was going to wear and the best way of kindling a wood fire without matches... And then she was out again, breathing the cool, early evening's air greedily as she made her way swiftly through a much less busy part of the city, towards the local supermarket.

Sophie had meant to cook something special for tonight but suddenly she was not in the right state of mind, no way she would concentrate on cooking until she reread that part of her book she needed to fix... There must be a solution, she just needed to think... And she needed to hear Liam's opinion.

So she opted for his favourite frozen pizza. She pulled a couple of boxes from the freezer, then added a large bag of salad to the trolley and a bottle of her favourite red wine.

As she opened the door of their flat she got a message from him, informing her that he was already at the airport and would be home in an hour.

Her heart leaped with joy at having him back, and then it sank a little... Oh well, so much for getting to her book before he arrived. It would have to wait again.

Having set the correct instructions on the oven, she spilled the salad into a large bowl, adding a dressing they both liked. She set the table, then hurried to take a shower.

Wrapped in a towel ten minutes later, her hair still dripping wet, she shoved the pizzas into the oven and ran in the bedroom to get dressed.

Wearing a small black dress and a pair of shoes with heels so high that she only dared to wear them at home, Sophie dried her hair fast, leaving her honey coloured waves fall freely around her face, to her bare shoulders and down her back.

This would have to do, she thought, in no mood to put the makeup on, as she headed back into the kitchen. Even as she took the dinner out of the oven and set it on the table, the door opened and Liam walked in.

"Wow. You... look stunning." He said, letting his eyes stroll over her. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she said, removing the oven mitts and  rushing over to him, then wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed... nearly forgetting all about the book as his lips strolled to her neck.

"The dinner is ready." She muttered, happy that he was at home. Only now that he was around she realised how empty the flat had seemed during his absence.

"Hmm... fine, just give me a moment," he said, vanishing into the bathroom.

Sophie picked his bag and coat from the floor where he had dropped them, carried them out of the way, then brought the wine to the table.

"What have you been up to during the week?" Liam asked, opening the bottle as he sat at the table a few minutes later.

"Just the usual, how was your trip?" She asked, breath catching in anticipation of what he would tell her about her book. She... shouldn't have let him read it...

"I'm glad that I'm at home. It was a meeting after a boring meeting... And I still have to work tonight..."

Sophie nodded understandingly, knowing how much he disliked these trips, and working this late. But there was no way around it. She meant to ask him if he had read her book, but seeing him so tired she had no heart to.

They finished their meal in silence and then Liam carried their refilled glasses to the sofa. Sophie followed him and let him pull her legs over his lap, smiling as his hand travelled up her thigh, slowly, deliberately. She laced her fingers through his hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Sophie, I didn't get to read all of it but..." Liam said, breaking to kiss after a while. She nodded, she didn't care about it right now, not as much, anyway. This didn't seem like the best moment...

That book had waited for so long, it could wait a little longer, she thought, bringing her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, even as his phone started to ring.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at the screen, his hand, playing with the hem of her short dress stilling momentarily, "work... I must do this, but I won't be long."

Sophie sighed as she watched him disappear into his office. She stood up and carried her wine into the bedroom where the few pages of her manuscript she didn't quite like lay on the bedside table. Kicking off her shoes she lay down. Snuggling among the pillows and sipping her wine, she reread the scene she was not happy with.

Liam woke her up an hour later, as he tried to pry the printed page from her fingers.

"So, how much did you read?" She asked, finally plucking up her courage, nodding to the leaf he placed on top of the others.

"And... you want an honest answer?"

"Of course."

"The first page... but I'm going to finish it at some point, I promise."

She giggled, knowing that he wouldn't, not unless she begged, or forced him somehow, and she would never do that. His ticket into her secret world expired, she would take that manuscript from his luggage and he would forget all about it in a few days... Maybe it was better this way after all, keeping her two worlds separated.

But she couldn't resist teasing him when she noticed his guilty look.

"And... did you like it?"

"I did... It's very well written. It's not my favourite genre, though." He said seriously.

That made her laugh.

"You don't have a favourite genre..." she whispered, as he lay down next to her, his hand resuming the place at the hem of her dress, pushing it higher. "I really needed your help, you know?" she leaned her head to the side, giving his lips more space to travel down the column of her neck. "There's that part I just can't wrap my mind around... How am I going to explain that...?"

"Aliens?" He breathed against her now burning skin, making her shiver.

"...aliens." She giggled again.

Of course. Leave it to Liam to find the best solution for a plot hole in a historical fiction novel...

              *********
This story was written for Imagine this... prompt 6.