Chapter Text
Andrea knows that she wants to marry Emily as early as after their first anniversary together.
She had always assumed she would know through some grand cosmic sign from the universe, but instead, the realisation hits her on an unassuming Sunday morning as she is eating breakfast with Emily and her two children. By then, she had practically moved into the Charlton apartment, her clothes having a permanent space in Emily's wardrobe, the left side of her bed reserved just for her. By then, it had already been almost two years since they reconnected after becoming friends.
Bronwyn eats a spoonful of cereal and mutters a few seconds after, “Mum, did you know that cereals were invented in 1863 but were called granula?”
“Hm, is it?” Emily tears her eyes away from her phone to look at her daughter; always giving her undivided attention, maintaining eye contact and the like. “I did not know that, bunny. Don't talk with your mouth full, please.”
The 11 year old nods dismissively, but obeys her mother nevertheless. “Yes, I learned it in school yesterday.”
“Was it Mr. Grace again?” Andrea asks, knowing Bronwyn completely adores her new transfer teacher from California.
Emily frowns slightly. “Isn’t he a science teacher?”
“Yes,” Bronwyn nods enthusiastically, “but he knows so many random facts! He's honestly the coolest.”
“Andy,” Another voice interrupts the conversation seamlessly; Roark is looking at her timidly. “you’re coming to my skateboarding competition next weekend, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Andrea replies immediately, “wouldn't miss it for anything in the world.”
She catches Emily giving her a look, one that is clearly disapproving. Andrea knows she doesn't think it is ever a good idea to use such a strong language while making promises with children, especially with how demanding their jobs could get.
Andrea just smiles. “Don't worry, I will be on DND that entire weekend.”
Emily merely shrugs, and returns to replying emails on her phone.
“Ro, can you pass the milk please?”
“Wyn,” The boy groans, “you can reach the milk by yourself.”
“It's heavy!”
“And it's not heavy for me?”
“Let me,” Andrea interrupts the children before their mindless bickering could escalate to a full blown nonsensical argument. She picks the milk carton and pours milk into Bronwyn's bowl. “Tell me when to stop.”
“More…more…” Bronwyn says in a singsong voice and then suddenly screeches, “STOP!”
“Jesus,” Emily flinches in her seat, hands raised and eyes shutting in reflex. “Wyn! What did I say about screaming?”
“Sorry,” Bronwyn apologises sheepishly. “Andy didn't even react to it though.”
“Hey, don't pull me into this,” Andrea chuckles, pinching the girl's cheek once in affection. “Be a good girl and listen to your mother.”
“I do!” She says in an almost exasperated tone. “I wouldn't even dare to defy mummy.”
Emily groans, muttering under her breath. “I’ll give it a few more years.”
Andrea stifles a laugh by nibbling her lower lip, forcing cereal into her mouth as the smile on her face only grows wider. She looks around the table, at each individual doing their own things, and it just hits her without any warning.
It is mundane and ordinary, but it is exactly why it made her so sure. She wants every morning like this with them, she wants to listen to Roark’s endless stories about skateboarding and Bronwyn’s random fact sharing over something she’d learned in school. She wants a lifetime with the people she has grown to love so much that just the thought of not having a day with them would leave her heart in tatters.
Andrea pauses as her gaze stops at Emily. And in some sort of inexplicable moment, her heart just skips a beat.
If anyone had told Andrea 20 years ago that she would reconnect with Emily Charlton, fall in love with her only months after becoming friends again, and build an entire life around her and her two children, she would have laughed in their face.
And yet, here she is.
These days, whenever Andrea thinks about her future - 20 years from now, 30, 40 - Emily is always there. In every version of it, in every home, every quiet morning and ordinary Wednesdays she imagines for herself. Not in grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but in the smallest of things like shared routines, inside jokes, family dinners and the comforting certainty of knowing she would come home to her at the end of a rough day. Sometimes Andrea catches herself and laughs at the absurdity of it all. How could she not? This woman who had refused every opportunity of a friendship with her in Runway has somehow become the person she can’t imagine a life without. Someone who now occupies every corner of this future she imagines.
The realisation should probably alarm Andrea; she’s never really thought about a commitment which would last an entire lifetime. Instead, her heart aches in the best ways possible, knowing how desperate she almost is, wanting this with Emily Charlton, her former Runway colleague turned friend turned confidant turned everything.
Emily looks up at the very second, catches how Andrea is staring at her with that silly expression on her face that Emily easily interprets as awestruck. “What? Have I got something on my face?”
Andrea is quick to shake her head. “No, just…your makeup is flawless.”
She looks away, only because she doesn’t want Emily to read into her expression too much; the latter is scarily good at reading people sometimes, and Andrea doesn’t think she is ready to be entirely honest with her yet. About what she had just thought for the last couple of minutes while eating breakfast with them.
It’s too early for that type of conversation, Andrea thinks, and decides to file that thought away for something she would refer to in hopefully the near future.
It will happen, someday. When she is ready. When Emily is ready.
Until then, Andrea will continue to love them. This dear little family unit that has now grown like vines in her heart.
The idea of marriage has been dormant in Andrea’s mind for quite a while now.
Perfectly content with how life has been lately, Andrea doesn’t think it is necessary to dwell on something that she isn’t even sure if Emily wants. She doesn’t ever talk about it either — the last thing Andrea would want is to pressure her, considering she’d done the whole marriage thing once.
But several months after their first anniversary, Andrea receives a wedding invitation from her former colleague at Vanguard, and she decides she would go for old times’ sake. Naturally, Emily goes as her plus one, and they’re sitting through the ceremony when Andrea leans to her side and whispers, “Again, thanks for coming with me. Even though I know you hate weddings.”
Emily doesn’t look at her when she whispers back curtly, “I do.”
“I know the RSVP encouraged guests to bring their plus ones,” Andrea says, “but you didn’t have to ensure I comply with it, really.”
Emily watches the couple exchange their vows, these strangers that hold no significance in her heart whatsoever, people she doesn’t personally know. For a moment, Andrea thinks Emily looks somewhat thoughtful, almost vulnerable, like she is thinking about something long and hard in her mind.
Then, Emily says quietly. “Well, I don’t hate all weddings.”
Andrea turns slightly to look at her as if waiting for an elaboration, but Emily still doesn’t look back. She keeps her eyes on the altar, and after a beat, adds, “I think I’d quite like my own.”
It takes exactly three seconds for Andrea’s brain to screech to a halt. She’s searching for any signs on Emily’s face which would tell her she had misheard her, but the other woman is as calm and collected as ever, her expression betraying none of her thoughts. Andrea opens her mouth, then closes it, all words in her mind lost in an abyss of confusion.
And then, Emily finally meets her gaze, smiling ever so slightly. “I suppose a wedding with someone I actually love wouldn’t be the worst thing on earth.”
There is something in Emily’s eyes that Andrea almost reads, thinks she almost understands, and her possible interpretation of it sends her heart lurching into her throat. Suddenly, Andrea realises that Emily has thought about it. Not just an abstract idea of marriage, but marriage with her.
“Oh.” She says dumbly, quite sure that her face has gone a shade of beetroot red. Completely speechless and clearly taken aback, Andrea leans back into the pew, eyes now on the altar as the bride and groom share a kiss with each other.
Her mind is going on a full sprint spiral now. Marriage isn’t something she has actively been planning, not when their relationship is already so wonderful. Not when their life together already feels permanent without having the need to formalise it in the eyes of the law.
But something shifts in Andrea’s mind the second she realises that Emily is considering it, or if she dares to even deduce, that Emily wants it - not because society expects it, but that Emily genuinely wants to stand up and choose Andrea in front of all the people they love.
Andrea swallows the lump in her throat, ignores the loud pounding of her heart in her ears and tells herself she probably should start looking at engagement rings.
It is supposed to be foolproof.
At least, that is what Andrea thinks when she puts this entire plan into motion two weeks ago.
Really, how hard can it be? She used to be an investigative journalist, for God’s sake. She has tracked down sources of people who didn’t want to be found, uncovered scandals involving public officials, and once spent three weeks convincing a particular stubborn witness to speak on record. Compared to all that, obtaining the ring size of her own girlfriend should be laughably easy.
It is not.
Because despite all her professional accomplishments, Andrea discovers the harsh truth that there is apparently no discreet way to measure the finger of a woman who has razor sharp senses over everything. And unfortunately for Andrea, the entire proposal hinges on one crucial piece of information - Emily’s ring size.
Andrea’s first attempt is the kind of stupid plan she convinces herself is brilliant at two in the morning. It involves a string of dental floss, which in hindsight, the fact that it’s an idea she thought of in the middle of the night should really have been her first warning sign. Nothing good comes from a decision made at two in the morning, anyway.
Emily is fast asleep beside her, curled beneath the duvet with her right arm tucked under her pillow, while Andrea lies awake staring at the ceiling above her, her heart roaring with nerves she doesn’t even know she could be feeling. She glances to her side and stares at Emily, triple checking that she is asleep from how even her breathing is. Then she stares at the dental floss she has retrieved from the bathroom earlier.
This is completely normal behaviour, right? She decides it is before letting doubt overtake her in any ways possible. Andrea takes a deep breath and inches forward to lift Emily’s left hand slowly. She is thankful that the only source of light in their room is the moon illuminating through the window on her side of the bed, which means that Andrea is at least not operating in complete darkness.
She carefully wraps the floss around Emily’s ring finger, holding her breath so that her hands don't tremble. She is halfway through congratulating herself for a stealthy job well done when suddenly, Emily moves.
Andrea jerks, and in a moment of panic, tosses the tiny roll of floss down the side of her bed. She slumps into her pillow the same time Emily furrows her eyebrows, opening her eyes slowly. “-ndy?”
Her voice is thick with sleep. Andrea doesn’t even know if she should answer her, or if she should be pretending to be asleep because goddamnit, she almost had it.
Emily continues anyway, as if trying to make sense of what had happened. “Were you holding my hand?”
Andrea knows there’s no point pretending to be asleep, when Emily probably knows she is still awake. She clears her throat nonchalantly, peeking at her cautiously. “Was I? Maybe it was just out of reflex?”
Stupidest answer ever, Ms. Investigative Journalist. It’s stupid enough that Emily’s frown deepens, and with a groan, turns away from Andrea in an instant. “Please just go to sleep.”
Andrea exhales the breath she doesn’t know she’s holding, one hand flying to her chest to calm her pounding heart. She doesn’t know how she’s going to fall asleep when her heart is threatening to end her life by leaping out of her chest.
What a stupid idea.
Lily looks like she’s about to burst into laughter when Andrea recounts the story to her in excruciating detail the next time they meet for breakfast.
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Lily stares at her with her hands up. “You waited until Emily was asleep,”
Andrea nods once.
“Then you stole dental floss from the bathroom,”
“It's not stealing if we live together!”
Lily waves her hands frantically, as if asking Andrea to stop talking. “Then you wrapped the floss around her finger,”
“Well, I attempted to,”
“Then you woke her up,”
“Technically, if we are harping so much on semantics,” Andrea defends herself, “she woke herself up.”
Lily pinches the bridge of her nose as a disbelief chortle comes out of her throat. “You know what? Nevermind.”
Andrea feels frustrated at how unhelpful her best friend is. “What is it? Tell me!”
Lily gives her a look. A look so sharp it makes Andrea shrivel on instinct. “Andrea Sachs. Please tell me, how many rings does Emily own?”
Andrea blinks, unable to connect the dots yet. “Um, I think she has a lot.”
“A lot meaning?”
“I don’t know!” Andrea throws her hands up in the air. “Fifteen? Twenty? Maybe even more?”
Lily looks like she’s about to lose it, her neck has turned all red from how much restraint she is exercising not to collapse onto the ground and burst into a full blown laughter. “And how many, please try to remember, of those rings has she worn on her ring finger?”
Andrea opens her mouth, closes it. Then opens it again. “...a lot?”
Lily stares at her best friend with a gaze that could have pierced through a dead body. And Andrea stares back with the longest pause humanly possible, then—
“Oh.”
Andrea sits up straighter, eyes widening in an eureka moment. “Wait. Wait. You mean…I could just borrow one of her rings, literally, just take any one to the jeweler and get them to measure the size—”
Lily claps her hands so loudly it startles Andrea from her reverie. “Congratulations on discovering something so obvious, Ms. Sachs!”
Andrea realises just how utterly stupid she has been acting, “Oh my god.”
Lily groans, slapping a hand against her forehead. “I cannot believe you are an award winning journalist.”
Andrea drops her head face down onto the table with a loud thud. “You mean I could have just done this from the beginning.”
“Seriously, Andy, has planning the proposal set your IQ back by fifty or something?”
She looks up briefly. “You know that's not scientifically possible.”
“Then explain the damn floss, please!”
Andrea takes a few seconds to consider her response, and then she tells Lily. “Can I just blame it on Reddit?”
Lily throws her napkin into Andrea’s face while she finally bursts into uncontrolled laughter. Andrea groans, knowing Lily would never let her live this down. Ever. It could be ten years later and she’s convinced Lily would still bring this up whenever an opportunity presents itself. To think that the answer to her question has been blindingly sitting in Emily’s jewelry box this entire time.
She huffs. In her defense, in her honest and most transparent defense, the idea of proposing to Emily has completely short-circuited the part of her brain responsible for common sense. It is deeply embarrassing, sure, but it is unfortunately a fact that she has become genuinely incapable of rational thought ever since she found out Emily has been open to the idea of marrying her.
“Thanks.” She tells Lily with another groan and her best friend gives her a supportive pat on the back.
“You've got this.”
Andrea isn't sure if she “got this”, but she will try.
Her plan is now officially back in motion as Andrea stands in front of Emily’s jewelry box while the latter is showering. Carefully, she opens the box and takes a deep breath.
“It’s not stealing, Andy,” She mutters to herself, somehow feeling guilty she is about to take one of Emily’s priced accessories into possession, however temporary it is. “You’re just borrowing it for one day. She won’t even notice anything is missing.”
Andrea takes one proper look into the jewelry box, and is immediately confronted with approximately thirty rings. She lets out a strangled whine of frustration because of course Emily owns thirty freaking rings.
“Em,” She complains to herself, “you only have ten fingers.”
Andrea holds out her hand to compare the size of her own fingers, knowing they’re not all the same; a ring could fit her forefinger but it wouldn’t fit her ring finger. She looks at the jewelry box with that knowledge and heaves another sigh, because she can’t just simply pick a ring and call it a day! It surely must be a ring Emily usually wears on her ring finger?
Think, Andy, think! She knocks one fist against the side of her head repeatedly, as if trying to trigger some sort of memory lying dormant inside her, maybe some images of Emily during their date nights when she’s all dressed up and—
Andrea stills. Her gaze zeroes in on one particular ring she is a hundred percent sure she has seen Emily wear on her ring finger multiple times before. With extreme care, Andrea picks up that ring, examines it under the light, and grins. Yes. This will do. It is absolutely perfect.
She slips it into her pocket and closes the jewelry box quietly. Andrea quickly leaves the room, gives herself a virtual pat in the back and concludes that her mission had been successful.
She leaves the house after ensuring breakfast is ready and kissing the kids goodbye.
Andrea has taken time off from work for her appointment with a London jeweler at Madison Avenue. It has taken her a few weeks and many conversations with different people before she settled on an engagement ring from Jessica McCormack.
Not just because of the London connection, but because their rings feel very much like Emily Charlton, in a way that’s elegant, understated and impeccably crafted. Maybe she had been partially influenced by Nigel as well, who had immediately deduced Andrea’s plan after just two questions from her.
“Get her a Jessica McCormark,” Nigel simply stated as he continued browsing the magazine spread on his desk. “You can definitely afford it with how well your book has been doing lately.”
Andrea flushed at his nonchalant comment, thanked him for his opinion and scurried out as quickly as she could. She had booked an appointment immediately after.
The sales associate greets her warmly when Andrea steps into the store, and she immediately feels out of her depth for some reason. The store is beautiful in the sort of effortless way that reminds her of Emily, and she tells the sales associate that she has booked an appointment for an engagement ring consultation.
The words feel strange coming out of her mouth. Maybe exciting, definitely terrifying. But also wonderful and it makes her heart feel all warm like Christmas morning.
“For your partner?” The sales associate asks politely, and Andrea nods.
And funnily enough, she suddenly couldn’t stop talking. Any prior plan of wanting to portray herself as mysterious and elegant goes down the drain in a split second as Andrea starts to overshare things like, “She works in fashion and she hates anything that’s too flashy without purpose, if you know what I mean? She’ll definitely and absolutely notice if the craftsmanship isn’t perfect so the craftsmanship has to be perfect but then again this is Jessica McCormack so I’m sure craftsmanship isn’t an issue—”
She only stops rambling because she remembers that she needs to breathe. Andrea’s face is now a bright shade of red when she clears her throat and gives the sales associate an awkward smile. “So yes. I need, uh, an engagement ring.”
The associate looks at her patiently without any judgement. “What is she like, ma’am?”
Andrea chuckles at that question because see, this sort of question is dangerous. She calculates the amount of time she has for this appointment left, and decides she has more than sufficient time to indulge in the sales associate’s question.
“My partner is brilliant, and really beautiful.” Andrea starts slowly, her mind searching for the proper adjectives to describe Emily. Once she starts though, the next few answers come to her before she can even think about it. “She’s also incredibly witty and clever. A hard worker who has all these great ideas. She’s a loving and caring mother,”
The associate simply smiles and nods along, encouraging Andrea to continue as she looks down at the display case. “And she’s…” Her voice suddenly becomes quiet and measured, the words catch unexpectedly in her throat. “she’s my home.”
The admission out loud, which is something Andrea honestly already knows for a long time now, still surprises her. But saying it out loud to another person, a complete stranger at that, reminds Andrea of how Emily has become exactly that person to her. Home.
The associate doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then she gestures towards a tray. “May I show you something?”
Andrea nods, and an emerald-cut diamond ring catches her eyes immediately. The ring isn’t the largest or the most expensive. It is something she finds to be timeless and elegant, subtly beautiful enough without demanding attention. Andrea picks it up slowly to see it closer, and just like that, she can see it; Emily reading in bed with the ring around her finger. Emily holding her coffee every morning as the diamond glistens under the sunlight. Emily reaching out for her hand in a crowded room or during family dinners together, and Andrea’s hand is subconsciously caressing the rock on her finger.
The images Andrea has conjured in her head arrive without any warning that she has to blink to recompose herself. “Oh.”
The associate simply smiles. “I thought this might suit your partner after hearing how you described her.”
Andrea chuckles, “I would assume everyone describes their partners in the same vein, no?”
“You would be surprised, but no.” The associate then gestures at another ring in the tray. “There’s also this other option,”
Andrea looks at the other ring and simply smiles. She honestly couldn’t quite see Emily wearing it, so her attention returns to the ring in her hands, seeing the way the diamond catches light streaming in from the glass windows. She couldn’t quite describe her current feeling, only that for the first time since she started planning all this, the proposal is no longer some distant future possibility anymore.
It is as real as it can get. Andrea is actually going to ask Emily Charlton to marry her.
A slightly hysterical laugh nearly escapes her, but she holds back her laughter at the very last second. Andrea takes one last look at the ring before handing it back to the associate.
“I think you’re right. This might be the one.”
Andrea volunteers to pick the kids up from school, leaving out the fact that she’s actually on PTO today. Her happiness from finding the perfect engagement ring is, however, short lived with one innocent question from Bronwyn at home.
“Andy,” She stops beside Andrea who is doing a quick email check on her laptop on the dining table, “are you busy?”
Like Emily, Andrea gives the child her full attention as she pushes her laptop away slightly. “Well, that depends. Did you get yourself into trouble, Wynnie? You can be honest with me.”
Bronwyn looks positively baffled at that question. “What? No! This isn’t about me at all.”
Andrea throws her an apologetic smile for assuming, and reaches out to hold her hand. “Okay, what’s wrong then?”
There’s a brief pause, as if Bronwyn is contemplating if she should say whatever it is that has been plaguing her mind the entire day at school. She shifts her feet uncomfortably and Andrea raises an eyebrow in concern. “Wyn, you know you can talk to me about anything.”
The little girl nods, and then finally exhales a sigh. “Mum’s upset.”
Andrea straightens her back immediately. “What? Why? Did anything happen after I left this morning?”
“I think so,” Bronwyn nods.
And nothing, absolutely nothing would have prepared Andrea for the next few words that come out of the girl’s mouth.
“She’s lost a ring, apparently.”
The second Andrea hears that, her jaw drops, composure be damned. No way, is the first thought that comes into her mind, followed by an, oh fuck this is a disaster.
Andrea, of course, knows exactly where that ring is — probably just sitting inside the drawer of Jessica McCormack’s Madison Avenue branch waiting to be measured in order for the staff to resize the engagement ring she had bought into a perfect fit.
A wave of guilt washes over her as Andrea asks, “Is she still looking for it?”
Bronwyn shrugs. “I don’t know. Mum was searching the entire house for it this morning. Ro told me he was almost late to school, since mummy dropped him last.” She pauses. “When mummy dropped me off, she was clearly pretending to be fine but I could tell that she wasnt."
Andrea winces, trying to ignore all the questions sprouting in her head because how on earth did Emily even realise that the one ring she had taken out of her jewelry box had gone missing?
“I thought maybe she would have mentioned it to you? Asked if you’ve seen it?”
“Oh, sweetie, she didn’t.” The guilt intensifies at once as Andrea sighs.
“Mum did tell me not to say anything to you.” Bronwyn admits sheepishly. Ah, that must be why the girl had hesitated in bringing this topic up earlier.
“Why not though?” Andrea asks, now ridden with curiosity.
Bronwyn shrugs again. “Don’t know. She said the ring is important to both of you.”
Andrea is now both alarmed and confused at the same time. Her frown deepens as she tries to press her brain to remember if the ring she had zeroed into before she left the house this morning for her mission had any significance whatsoever to their relationsh—
Oh fuuuuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Andrea gasps loudly, uncaring if Bronwyn is watching her. Her chest tightens as an awful realisation drowns her entire being instantly.
That ring she had chosen because she’s seen Emily constantly wearing it on her left ring finger. Of course something in her mind had jolted her into choosing it again earlier. It was because of familiarity. Because that was the same Juste un Clou Cartier ring Andrea had gotten Emily as a gift for their first anniversary together. The same one Andrea had bought after she’d gotten that big fat advance from her Miranda Priestly biography, and after she had spent weeks saving screenshots and pretending to be an expert in luxury jewellery. It is the ring Emily had gotten herself resized because it was a little loose, and had worn so often that Andrea eventually just stops noticing it, not because it isn’t important or insignificant, but simply because it had become a part of Emily. Like…like her favourite IWC Schaffhausen watch! Or the Chanel perfume she always wears.
Wait, Andrea rubs her temples, who is she even trying to convince that it isn’t absolutely bonkers of her not to recognise her own gift she had gotten for her girlfriend?
“Are you okay?” Bronwyn is both suspicious and a little worried, and Andrea wills herself not to blurt everything out. “Yes, I just…I’m just a little shocked, that’s all.”
That, and how she really just wants to bury herself six feet underground.
“Hmm,” Bronwyn eyes the adult in a way that tells Andrea she doesn’t believe her. But she gives her a bit of grace by not pressing further. “I asked mum if the ring is expensive, and she told me while it is ‘bloody expensive’, it’s not about how expensive it is.”
Andrea closes her eyes in quiet acceptance of her fate.
Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.
She is dead meat. Oh she definitely will be, if Emily could openly curse in front of her daughter when she’s been following a strict no-cursing-in-the house rule. Accidentally stealing one of the most sentimental items Emily owns which she herself had gotten for her girlfriend would definitely do it. Why did she even think to go on this crazy mission to propose to Emily? Why is this even a good idea? She reckons she'll be dead before she even gets around to asking her.
Such outstanding work, Andrea Sachs.
The moment Emily walks through the front door, two hours later than usual, Andrea is on high alert, jumping up from the couch in an overly eager manner that has the redhead giving her a quick glance of confusion.
“Hey,” Emily says tiredly, and the way she drops her thousand dollar handbag haphazardly onto the console table by the door is a dead giveaway of her sour mood that evening. Andrea nibbles her lower lip nervously, watching how Emily kicks her heels without much care, and how she doesn’t immediately walk over to kiss her as a form of greeting.
Oh. This is bad. Abysmally bad.
“Hi. Long day?” Andrea asks carefully, and Emily responds with a curt “No.”
Which, Andrea immediately knows, in Emily Charlton language, means yes, I had a horrendous day at work.
She changes the topic immediately. “The kids are doing their homework, and they’ve eaten of course. Have you?”
Emily grunts and shakes her head once, causing Andrea to wince. She watches how Emily goes straight to the kitchen, making herself busy there by opening random cabinets and then closing them, opening the refrigerator and then closing it. Then she leans against the counter and crosses her arms, staring into space without saying anything else — and Andrea decides she cannot take this tension anymore.
“Emily, I have someth—”
Only that, Emily beats her to it first, blurting out in complete exhaustion. “I lost it.”
Andrea’s heart sinks at once. “No, Em,”
Emily laughs once, and it comes off as brittle if anything. “The ring you bought for me for our first anniversary.” She runs a hand through her hair in frustration. “I looked everywhere today. At home, in my office. Every possible place I could think of!”
Andrea rushes to her side, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tries again. “Hey, listen—”
But Emily waves her hands in the air, as if wanting to take accountability. “I even had security review CCTV footage in my office to see if I had accidentally taken it out and misplaced it somewhere.”
Andrea is horrified. “You what?”
“I know,” Emily drags a hand down her face. “I know how insane that sounds but,”
There’s a pause before she continues quietly, “I just didn’t want to lose it. I am so sure I kept it in my jewelry box!”
Seeing how upset she looks makes Andrea feel like the world’s worst girlfriend, and she immediately reaches out to hold her arms. “It isn’t your fault,”
“I should have been careful. I’m usually careful.” She finally looks at Andrea, “I’m really sorry, Andy.”
The guilt finally becomes unbearable with how far enough this has gone. Way too far for Andrea’s liking, honestly. “Emily, stop. I know where the ring is.”
Emily’s expression turns from frustration to confusion in an instant. “Pardon?”
“I know where the ring is,” Andrea repeats firmly, “because…I took it.”
Emily frowns at her girlfriend. “You took…what?”
“Your Cartier ring. But I can explain,” Andrea immediately says. “What happened was I borrowed it, temporarily.”
Emily stares at her for another long second before finally exhaling a sigh of relief, one hand over to her chest. “So it’s not lost. Thank heavens.”
“It’s not, I can assure you. I know where it is, it’s just…not with me right now.” Andrea probably shouldn’t have said anything else, because Emily immediately darts another look at her. “I don’t understand. Where is it then? My rings don't even fit you.”
She knows there’s no way to go around this but to be honest, so Andrea whispers. “I needed your ring size.”
“My ring size?” Emily is so bewildered that she leans back into her kitchen counter. “You could have just asked though?”
“Then you would know!” Andrea sputters instantly, gesturing wildly in the air. “And it will ruin the entire surprise!”
“Ruin what surprise? It’s not even my birthday—”
“I was planning on proposing to you!”
The slip-up makes Andrea’s eyes widen at the same time as Emily’s. Neither of them says anything for the longest of time as Andrea cautiously studies her girlfriend’s reaction to what she’d just said. She’s about to say something when Emily lets out this sharp exhale, and starts marching towards their bedroom.
“Emily?” Andrea’s about to start panicking as a hundred negative scenarios invade her mind — she’s ruined it hasn’t she, ruined everything, Emily doesn’t want to be proposed to, doesn’t want to be married to her — as she scurries after her into the bedroom. “Emily, please don’t freak out.”
Emily ignores her, opening a drawer in her wardrobe, the one side Andrea knows not to touch, and something clatters at how fast she is moving. A second later, she whirls around and meets Andrea halfway across the room. Her expression is a mask of disbelief and…is that amusement?
She juts a hand out. “Well, this is awkward.”
Initially, Andrea doesn’t understand what Emily meant until she looks down at her palm and realises that she is holding a small navy velvet box, with a word imprinted on it.
She peers closely and gasps, realising that it isn’t a word, but a name.
Harry Winston.
Andrea’s knowledge of luxury brands isn’t as vast as Emily’s, but in that instant, she knows. Who wouldn't with such a reputable brand?
“Andrea,” Emily’s tone is bashful and somewhat embarrassed. “You really have such impeccable timing, don’t you?”
Andrea continues to gape at the box as her mind just about loses it when she finally connects the dots. “You…were planning…to propose?”
Emily simply nods. “I bought it three months ago.”
Andrea looks up at her, completely gobsmacked at the revelation. “What?”
“I was waiting for the right moment,” Emily closes her eyes as her entire face turns pink. “to ask you to marry me.”
Andrea makes an odd strangled noise as their eyes meet. Emily taps the box against her palm a few times, her expression thoughtful. “Now what? Should I return the ring?”
“No, no!” Andrea objects without hesitation, clasping her hands over Emily’s. “I am very capable of pretending I didn’t see this. That I don’t know what you’ve been planning. Em, you can’t…you can’t take back your words!”
Her frantic antics elicits a smile from Emily; this woman really isn’t capable of hiding a feeling ever. “I’ll consider it.” She teases, and Andrea’s face falls into dismay. Only for three seconds though, because the longer they hold each other’s gazes, the more they realise just how silly and ridiculous this entire situation has become — and they burst into laughter, nearly collapsing into each other.
“You absolute idiot,”
“I can’t believe this,”
It is only after they stop laughing that Andrea looks from the Harry Winston ring to Emily, and then back to the ring, then back to Emily again. “In all seriousness, you want to marry me? Like, you actually want to marry me?”
The redhead rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”
Hearing that firm admittance causes something to crack open inside Andrea, and a slew of thoughts start to flood her mind again. Despite everything that had gone wrong in their proposal plans, despite the fact that neither of them are even dressed appropriately for such an occasion, the answer is already there.
Asking is merely a formality now, as Emily reaches for her hand and Andrea squeezes it with assurance that her feelings are well reciprocated. Andrea steals a look behind her shoulder to make sure none of the kids have magically materialised themselves outside their bedroom, before turning back to Emily and cupping her face in the gentlest way she could.
And then she is kissing her in a not-so gentle way that nearly makes Emily drop the ring box she is still holding in her hand. The latter winds her arms around Andrea’s neck as she deepens the kiss, pressing her entire body against hers and feeling electricity cascading down her spine. Andrea would probably have continued kissing her without a single care for the world if not because Emily pulls away with a sudden gasp.
“Wait,” She pants, trying to regain her composure, “you weren’t surprised earlier when I told you I lost the ring.”
Andrea leans into Emily’s shoulder to catch her breath, her question completely flying past her head. “Huh?”
Three seconds after, Emily groans and starts to push Andrea away from her embrace. “Bronwyn told you, didn’t she? That little chatterbox, even after I told her not to say anything to you!”
“Em,” Andrea tugs her by her hand quickly to stop Emily from leaving the room. “she was just worried for you, that’s all. Don’t be mad please.”
“I’m not mad,” Emily assures with a sigh, “just crushed to know that I can’t trust her not to rat me out to you in the future.”
Andrea laughs, then pulls her into a hug. “Would that be that bad?”
“You wouldn’t think so,” Emily mutters against her shoulder. “Not when you’ve got them wrapped around your finger like that.”
“I think it goes without saying that you will always be their number one,” Andrea taps Emily’s waist a few times so that she would look at her. “They love you.”
“And they idolise you,” Emily hums. “I’m sure they have enough space in their hearts to fit you inside as well.”
“I’d like that very much,” Andrea grins, and starts to lean forward so that she could kiss her again.
But Emily stops Andrea by placing a hand firmly on her chest, their lips just mere inches away, clearly still having questions in her head. “Of all rings you could have taken, why did you take that one? You know how much that ring means to me.”
Andrea is filled with immediate embarrassment, the thought of having to admit that she did not in fact recognise the ring as the same gift she had gotten for her. It feels almost criminal. In normal circumstances, she definitely would have remembered. Unfortunately, as Lily has rightfully pointed out, she has been operating on approximately three brain cells for the past week, and that has clearly affected her cognitive abilities.
Emily sees her hesitation, the long pause, sees the way Andrea has averted her gaze elsewhere as her expression changes into that of avoidance. Emily blinks, then takes a step back. “No you did not,” Her tone changes into obvious disbelief, one finger pointed towards her girlfriend. “Andrea Sachs, please tell me you know that was the ring you got for me last year?”
Andrea sputters weakly, “In my defense, Emily, you have a gazillion rings and they all look the same.”
“How dare!” Emily gasps dramatically, “A Cartier ring and a Tiffany ring do not look the same! I must remind you that you're a woman working in the fashion industry,”
“I swear, I know about rings! I don’t own as many as you do but I do wear them. And I bought that ring for you, of course I should remember what it looks like! But…” Andrea sighs in defeat, knowing there’s no way she could win this argument. “you must think I am so dumb right now.”
Strangely, that is the last thought in Emily’s mind. If this happened in a work setting, she would have been less forgiving. But she ends up chuckling instead, reaching out for Andrea again. “God, no. Just, ridiculously endearing. I can’t believe you didn’t remember, but I appreciate the effort to get my size right, Andy.”
Andrea’s expression turns sheepish. “Still got caught in the end though. I should have known when everything was going too smoothly.”
Emily shakes her head, looking down at the ring box she is still holding onto. She fidgets with it before glancing at Andrea, almost shyly. “So…when will I see the ring you got for me? Who did you even get?”
“That would be a secret,” Andrea replies with twinkling eyes. “You do know I have this entire proposal planned out in my head, right? I’m not going to give away the rest of the details to you.”
“Oh, very well,” Emily relents easily, understanding her sentiments. “I’ll just pretend to be surprised when it happens, then. Though if tonight counts as anything, you ought to catch up soon.”
“It doesn’t!” Andrea gasps. “You didn’t even ask me properly, and I didn’t even give my answer yet.”
“Like you would have any other answer.”
“Well, I’d like to think I still have options!”
“That’s it, I’m returning this ring.”
“No you can’t!”
Emily turns around as an act to chuck her Harry Winston ring away, and Andrea automatically curls her arms around her petite figure in a back hug to prevent her from doing that. They fall into another snort of laughter, staying in that position for a while until Emily suddenly announces, “Hold on, the kids have been eerily quiet. I should probably go check on them.”
Andrea lets her go while smiling. “But can you please keep the ring back in your drawers first?”
Emily laughs lightly, already making her way to her wardrobe. “Happy?” She asks after keeping it back to its original spot, and starts for the door. Just before she leaves the room though, Emily reaches for Andrea again, and this time, is the one to close the gap between them with a chaste kiss. She pulls away after a few seconds, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. “I know we aren’t doing the whole proposal thing yet…but, I love you, Andy.”
Andrea’s heart swells. It is honestly ridiculous for her to still be feeling this way - Emily tells her she loves her often enough that she should be used to it by now. But in all truth and honesty, she isn’t, and she suspects she never will. Every declaration still feels like something Andrea is hearing for the first time with breathtaking certainty, just because it comes from Emily. Emily who had once kept every vulnerable part of herself locked away behind sharp words and tough edges. Emily who didn’t think she deserved this cosmic reciprocity in the direst kind. Yet here she is, offering her heart so freely that Andrea has to pause just to marvel at being the receiving end. At them. At this life they have somehow built together.
“Love you too,” Andrea finally exhales with conviction, then adds. “be my once in a lifetime?”
Emily gives her a smile that nearly melts her entire being, and tells her with a laugh.
“I thought I already was.”