Chapter Text
Andy throws a quick glance up to the sky as she hurries into her apartment block. It looks like it could rain soon.
Life has been good for Andrea Sachs ever since she took that job at Runway. Back when she got fired from her job as a journalist, she didn't know that it would end up being a blessing in disguise, granting her many new opportunities, and a way for her to catch up with some people she used to know.
Nigel, Miranda, Emily Charlton...
Especially Emily Charlton.
Now that the two of them have been catching up, they've been meeting up at every chance they can get. Andy has gotten to know Emily's two adorable kids, Brownwyn and Roark, but most importantly, she's also gotten to know the real Emily Charlton.
Not the Emily she knew as her colleague twenty years ago, but the true Emily with a softer side to her that Andy considers herself lucky to be able to see.
Of course, Emily is still fiery and sarcastic, with seemingly endless quips and playful insults, but the keyword there is playful, because that's what it is now—lighthearted, just simple teasing, far different from how their relationship started off at Runway all those years ago.
She's gotten a job at Coach now, and she really does seem happy with her life. And that really makes Andy happy too.
And then there's Peter, of course! Andy's boyfriend, Peter, who she's moved in with. He's kind and supportive, and he's...
Well, he's a good boyfriend, Andy can't deny that. He's proud of her accomplishments and always encourages her. He is really sweet, and funny, and she knew that from the moment she first saw him.
But lately...well, she hates to admit it to herself, but lately, she's been feeling as though the spark that drew her to him has slowly been fading. She can't pinpoint when, but things have been off. He's different, and they both seem tense, and the truth is that whenever she leans against him, or puts an arm around him, or kisses him, she feels as though she's doing it out of obligation, like it's something she should be doing, rather than something she naturally wants to do.
The worst part is that he hasn't even done anything wrong. She doesn't know what's been happening, or why.
All she knows is that when she enters their apartment after a night out with Emily, the mood is heavy and tense.
"Hey babe!" She chirps, hanging up her coat and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
Again, something she feels like she's supposed to do. Not something she even thinks of herself.
He smiles tightly at her. "How was your night?" He asks quietly, and his tone is laced with something Andy can't identify.
Still, she cracks a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Good! Oh yeah, Emily was saying that—"
He cuts her off with a sigh. "I...I actually have something I was hoping we could talk about. Can we sit down?"
Andy hates the way her throat goes dry and words seem to elude her. "Uh– yeah! Yeah, of course."
She moves over to the couch and he sits on the armchair across from her, again letting out a sigh. "Andrea...when was the last time you were here?"
That question takes Andy by surprise, and smothers her with confusion. "I– what? I live here?" She answers, puzzled.
Peter pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes in an exasperated way before opening them to look intensely at Andy. "You know I don't mean it like that. I mean...emotionally."
That strikes something inside her. So he's noticed it, too. He's been able to sense her feelings, probably even better than she has, herself.
"I..." She chokes out. What is she supposed to say?
Thankfully, he interrupts and continues speaking.
Will she still be thankful when she hears his next words, she wonders, her hand finding its way over to the hem of her skirt to nervously tug and fidget at it.
"You've just been...emotionally avoidant, lately. You just seem to disappear. You don't initiate anything, and you brush things off." He murmurs.
Her breath comes to a stop, and then she's spouting out an excuse. She doesn't know why, because deep down, they both know he's right.
"I'm sorry, Peter. Work's just been pretty stressful lately, we're working on that new collab with Coach, and I just haven't had time to—"
He raises an eyebrow. "Andy? Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. You seem to make time for Emily, after all."
That hits Andy straight in the chest, and her breath hitches, without her even knowing why. Before she can stop it, a memory resurfaces, one of Saturday morning, two weeks ago. Where she had been supposed to go out with Peter, but...
❀❀❀
"You're putting way too many chocolate chips in those pancakes."
Andy glanced up from the mixing bowl to find Emily leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in her hand and an expression of deep disapproval with badly hidden amusement plastered across her face.
Andy was surprised when Emily had called to say that she had come down with a cold. She was even more surprised when she found herself offering to come over and look after Roark and Brownwyn for the day. She was meant to be out with Peter, but knowing that her friend was sick and needed help had been enough for her to come over. And now, here she was, in Emily Charlton's kitchen, making breakfast for her two children.
"I disagree," Andy replied cheekily, sprinkling in another handful.
A fit of giggling came from the kitchen table.
Roark was swinging back and forth on his stool at the kitchen counter, while Brownwyn sat beside him, carefully arranging blueberries into little smiley faces on her pancakes.
"More chocolate chips!" Roark demanded with a toothy grin.
Emily pointed at him accusingly. "See? I blame you for this."
Andy gasped in mock offense, theatrically pressing a hand to her heart. "Emily! This is like, the second time I've ever made food for them!"
"And look at the damage you've managed already." Emily scoffed.
Andy laughed in spite of herself. She'd admit that laughing had become surprisingly easy around Emily.
Twenty years ago, she would've never imagined standing in Emily Charlton's kitchen on a Saturday morning arguing about pancake ingredients was even a possibility, because back at Runway, Emily had been terrifying with her merciless jabs.
Now the jabs were playful and...affectionate? Andy hoped Emily felt that way too.
"Why are you smiling into the batter like that?" Emily asked suddenly.
Andy blinked, her gaze snapping up to meet Emily's suspicious one. "What?"
"That stupid smile," Emily narrowed her eyes, "You've got that ridiculous look on your face."
Andy frowned. "I-I don't have a look!"
"You absolutely do." Emily huffed.
"No, I don't." Andy replied.
"Do too." Emily shot back.
Exasperated, Andy turned to the kids. "Help me out here, guys, and tell your mother she's hallucinating."
Brownwyn looked up from her blueberries."Mommy's right. You did have a huge grin."
"Traitor!" Andy gasped with fake offense, trying to stop a smile from tugging at her lips.
Brownwyn giggled, and Roark ended up joining in too. All the while, Emily looked unbearably smug.
Andy rolled her eyes and turned back to the bowl, shaking her head.
A second later, she felt a light flick against her shoulder. She spun around. A blueberry hit the floor and rolled, and Emily had a smirk on her face, another one in her hand.
"Oh, you're dead." Andy warned, wide-eyed.
"Catch me first." Was the simple reply she got.
For the next thirty seconds, chaos erupted. Roark screamed with laughter, watching as Brownwyn launched herself off her stool and immediately joined Emily's side.
Andy retaliated with a handful of chocolate chips, and Roark hurried to join her, hurling a few strawberries at his sister. "Don't worry, Andy!" He grinned. "I'll help you!"
Andy ruffled his hair lightly, and was stopped when a whole blob of whipped cream hit her right in the face. Everybody stopped and went dead silent as she wiped it off.
Emily gave her a deadpan look. "Sorry! It slipped right out of my hand..."
And then, laughter erupted once more.
❀❀❀
"Andy?"
Peter's voice pulls her back to the present.
She blinks, and the apartment around her comes back into focus.
"I...no, that's– that's different." She says quickly. "Like I said, there's the collab with Coach, and we need to meet to discuss things, and..." The rest of the words die on her lips. They both know how weak of a protest it is.
He sighs yet again. "Meeting to discuss things once is believable. But three times in a week? C'mon, Andy." Before Andy opens her mouth to interject, he keeps going. "And of course, you're entitled to spend time with friends. I would never try to take that away from you. And I'm not saying this in a controlling sense, but I just think that the way you act around Emily is...different than with your other friends."
Andy's mouth dries up once again, and she clears her throat. She hates the way a blush rushes to cover her cheeks, and she instinctively toys with her hair. "I– I'm not...what?"
He shakes his head. "You have Lily, you have Doug, but now...it's always Emily."
Andy's mind whirls and starts to move at a mile a minute. "We're just catching up, you know? Getting to know each other better, that sort of thing."
Peter gives her a deadpan, disbelieving look. "You practically start glowing when her name lights up your phone. You're so much brighter around her, and for someone who you're 'still getting to know,' you certainly know a lot about her. Her favourite designer, how you've memorised her coffee order—the list could go on and on."
"What are you suggesting?" Andy manages to croak out hoarsely.
Peter meets her gaze. "That whether you know it or not, you view her as more than just a friend. I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but to me...Andy, it really seems like you've got feelings for her."
And that's when Andy swears her heart actually stops beating. That the world stops moving, that time slows to a stop.
"What?" Her voice is soft at first, tentative.
Feelings? For Emily? As if! Sure, they were friends, but anything more than that? Ridiculous! Yeah, Emily is amazing, funny, and drop dead gorgeous, but any idiot could see that! It doesn't mean anything! Just because they meet up a lot doesn't mean anything! Just because Andy is bisexual doesn't mean...
A laugh escapes her lips. "You– you are joking, right?" He had to be! He couldn't really believe this
Peter only stares back at her, dead serious. "No. No, I'm not. I really think you need to properly look at your relationship with her and think about your feelings."
Something, panic, maybe, creeps up inside Andy. "Peter," She scoffs, "I-I don't need to think about anything! Em and I are friends, but that's just it! I've never once..." She doesn't even know how to continue.
"Andy," Peter begins quietly, and is interrupted when Andy's phone buzzes.
Andy swallows. Emily. She knows already that it's Emily. And judging by his reaction, Peter knows it too.
"Fine," Peter says, "Then I don't need to think about anything, either. I've made my mind up, and I think that it would be better for both of us if we end this relationship."
It's a punch to the gut. Andy has known for a while now that their relationship hasn't been working out, that something has been missing, but that doesn't mean that this doesn't sting. When she walked into the apartment tonight, she never would have seen this coming. Not in a million years.
When she finally finds it in her to speak, her voice is tiny and fragile. "I'm sorry, Peter. I wanted this to work out, I really did."
She couldn't read his expression. It wasn't cold, but it was far from the warm looks she was used to him giving her.
"I did, too. But it's clear that won't be happening now. Not when your heart clearly is set on someone else."
Something bubbles up inside of Andy at that. Why does he keep insisting there's something going on with Emily? Andy has never even once done anything to suggest that she has feelings for the redhead, and now—
"Peter! If you feel like our relationship isn't fulfilling, then I'm fine with you just saying that! Because trying to drag Emily into this and saying I've got a crush on her or something is absolutely crazy!" She answers firmly and hastily.
He shakes his head. "You can deny it if you want, but I have two working eyes, Andy. I see you, you know, smiling at your phone, giggling when she messages you."
Heat creeps up Andy's neck. "I– I do that with Lily, too! With everyone!"
Peter finally gives her a resigned, pained look, and Andy stares down at the couch. Then the floor. Then the window. Just...anywhere but his face.
"I'm sorry, but I can't continue in this relationship any longer." He murmurs, and the words hit her like stone.
Andy exhales. "I know. And I'm sorry, Peter, I really am."
Peter nods. "I get it. I'm doing this for both of our sakes, Andy."
Andy knows that it's true, but it still hurts a part of her heart.
She stands up. "I– I'll get my things packed, then." She breathes weakly, moving over to their room to start getting her things ready to leave.
"Hey, wait. It's pretty late, I'm not gonna turf you out onto the streets in the middle of the night if you've got nowhere else to go." Peter calls after her.
The thought strikes her and leaves her with a sharp pang in her chest. She's leaving. And where else is she supposed to go?
She had sold her apartment just to move in with Peter. She has absolutely no idea where she's going to go now.
She supposes that she could call Lily and stay with her for a while. Now that Andy has her job at Runway, she has enough of a salary to find somewhere to live, but until then, she decides that staying with Lily is the best plan of action.
Theoretically, she could still stay here, just for the night, but she'd feel far too guilty. And it would be way too awkward—
"No," She shakes her head, "It's okay. I can stay with Lily."
"Are you sure?" He asks gently, and she nodded, walking away.
She can't talk to him. Can't look at him. Guilt is just continuing to gnaw away at her no matter how hard she tries to shake it. This relationship is ending, and it's her fault. It's always her fault. Almost every relationship she's ever been in has ended because of her, or her dreams, or her issues...
Her legs feel disconnected from her body as she stumbles to the bedroom. Their bedroom. Well, not anymore.
Andy's throat tightens as she makes her way into the room and over to the closet, opening it. Seeing her clothes there next to Peter's is like a stab to the chest. She grabs one of her coats, taking it off the hanger, and folding it to put it into one of her two suitcases.
She packs her things slowly, her movements clumsy and at a snail's pace because of how numb she feels. Her head is still pounding, as well as her heart, and all she can think of is a single name: Emily, Emily, Emily.
She hates it. Peter is wrong. Feelings for Emily? Asinine. Ridiculous!
She'd never...
Now, she's shoving her clothes into the suitcases, totally given up on folding them. She just wants to get out of here before she shrivels up and prays for the ground to swallow her.
She looks up to her bedside table to pack all of her things there. Her book, her alarm clock, her jewellery box, her...her photo frame. With a photo of her and Peter inside it.
She still remembers when it was taken too, and what makes it worse is how widely the two of them are smiling in it. Actual, genuine smiles, so painfully different from the fake ones they've been giving each other lately.
After what feels like both an eternity and a minute, all of her things are in her suitcases, and she drags them out to the hall.
Peter stands watching with an upset look on his face. "Andy, I didn't mean you had to leave at this hour of the night. Are you sure you want to—"
"Yes." She cuts him off quickly and sharply. She hates how on edge she is, how tense she is, how panicked she is, how emotional she is now after not knowing how to show emotion around him for too long.
And all of those things? It's because he's right. Not about her being avoidant, but about the other thing—
No. No, no he's not. He's wrong, dead wrong.
Her head is still spinning when they have another weak and awkward conversation, both murmuring that they're sorry and that they wish things could have been different, and then she's out the door before she even realises it.
Only then, when she's staring around at the walls and the carpeted floor of the corridor, is when she begins to cry, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Does she even have the right to cry? She brought this on herself.
She stumbles to the elevator, numbly pressing buttons to take her down to the bottom floor, and as soon as she reaches the front door of the apartment she realises that it is absolutely lashing rain.
She groans and hesitates. Could she go back to Peter and tell him about the weather? Walking in this heavy rain, even just to Lily's house ten minutes away, would be miserable.
But she's already said goodbye to him. It would be so awkward to have to walk back in. And anyway, she still feels too guilty.
Because a nagging part of her knows that she really does have—
Determinedly, she steps out into the rain, and instantly, wind whips at her face and she's pelted with hard raindrops.
Well, shit.
She's got no choice but to yank her hood up and head around the block to Lily's house.
And that's when she remembers something that results in a groan sliding past her lips. The text Lily sent her earlier today at work. Double-checking to confirm that she was totally and utterly screwed, she pulled out her phone to reread it.
Lily 🌸
[11:48am] Hey! Just letting you know that I'm gonna be out of town for the week for an art show. I'll see you when I get back! Xx
Well, now Andy is completely and utterly fucked. She's standing in the rain at 10pm with two suitcases overflowing with all of her things and nowhere to go.
That's when she sees the unread messages at the top of her phone, and swipes down to look at them.
Emily 💕
[8:24pm] Roark and Bronwyn were wondering if you could come over tomorrow morning now that it's the weekend. They're saying something about you make better pancakes than I do which is obviously a load of bollocks, but still, lmk if you're able to come.
A laugh escapes Andy before she can stop it. That feels...so wrong. She's literally standing in the rain after getting dumped by her boyfriend of six months, why is she laughing?
She reads the rest of the messages.
[9:52pm] Are you still alive? You're usually glued to your phone.
[9:54pm] Though I suppose you could just be busy, or Miranda's putting you through the wringer. It's just that you've seemed quiet and different all week, and I'm wondering whether you're actually Andrea Sachs or an imposter who thinks she can convince me.
[9:55pm] If something has happened then you can ring me. Or don't, I don't care, but I at least want confirmation that you're not a clone or a doppelganger.
Andy hates the way her heart swells at the new idea that's hit her.
She can't.
She can't.
...Can she?
Well, the rain is pelting down on her and her phone screen and shows no sign of stopping, and she's got nowhere else to go.
So, with a shaky sigh, Andy decides that she's got no choice but to make her way over to Emily's house and stay with her instead.
The woman her now ex-boyfriend is insisting she's in love with.
And the worst part?
Andy realises with a blush on her cheeks, that he might be on to something there.