They didn’t know I was behind the tapestry, just like Polonius. But how could they? I hadn’t written that kind of suspicion into their characters. But I bethink they were beginning to formulate that feeling all on their own.
“I want to talk about this Mary Alden subplot,” Cristina said. “It’s not working for me.”
Norman stuck his tongue out at Cristina. “It works perfectly well for me. You know I’m not strong enough to admit the truth to Agnes just yet. That doesn’t come until Chapter 19. And she can’t very well know that you’re the woman I’m sleeping with. That’d completely trash the dramatic arc.”
“It’s always about you,” Cristina said. “What do you think it’s like for me, having an affair with your best friend’s husband? I never thought of myself as that. And if you read page 57, it’s not how my character is defined.”
“Cristina, don’t worry. I know Agnes and she’ll forgive you before the end of the book.”
“Well, I have rights. I’m the sidekick, after all, and I have rights. No more Mary Alden. And you know what that means: no more sex for us.”
No comments:
Post a Comment