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Andy was sitting beside Bronwyn at the kitchen island. The six-year-old was busy drawing what looked like a disfigured redhead with her crayons. Andy tilted her head and leaned closer.
It looked eerily identical to Emily.
It might be too early to tell, but it was probably safe to say the six-year-old might not have a gift for art.
Andy looked up when she heard Emily’s footsteps entering the kitchen.
Emily stopped behind Bronwyn, absentmindedly combing through her daughter's hair.
“So… I might have some bad news.”
Andy sat up straight, facing Emily in worry. “What, what happened?”
Emily let out a deep sigh. “I just got off the phone with my mum, and it might’ve slipped my mind that my cousin’s wedding is in two weeks.”
Andy blinked, looking amused. “You? Emily Charlton? Forgot something? I thought you wrote everything down in your calendar.”
Emily rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed. “Well, I’m sorry I’m just a human, Andrea.”
Andy laughed, finding a little bit of joy in teasing Emily.
“Anyway…" Emily started, pausing briefly before continuing. "I know it’s a bit short notice and I know how busy you are. I know how demanding Runway is, so feel free to say no. But, I was thinking…"
Emily pressed her lips together.
She drew a slow breath, "I was thinking…"
Andy met Emily's eyes, patiently waiting for her to continue, offering an encouraging smile as she waited.
Emily took a deep breath, before clearing her throat. "If you… if you'd want to come with me to London?”
Andy's brain stopped functioning for a second because Emily Charlton was asking her to go to London.
Which basically meant meeting the family. Meeting the parents.
Andy had met Emily's parents before—well, FaceTime, if that counted—and they were both lovely people. Andy suddenly understood why Emily had hesitated.
“Are we going to see Nana and Grandpa?” Bronwyn's voice broke Andy's thoughts.
Emily stroked Bronwyn’s hair softly. “Yes, Bunny. We are.”
Bronwyn gasped in joy. She looked at Andy before saying, "Andy, you should come! Nana makes good banana bread!"
Bronwyn jumped off the stool in a hurry, almost losing her balance in the process.
"Wynnie!"
"Sorry!"
The girl darted off to her brother, already buzzing in energy to tell the exciting news before Emily could say another word.
A mix of excited screams from Roark and Bronwyn echoed upstairs.
"Jesus." Emily took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Ignore her," Emily waved her hands away. "It's okay if you're busy, you don't have to come—"
"No! Of course I will!" Andy quickly interjected. "Even if Mir—Runway needs me, I will make it," Andy said with unyielding resolve.
Emily tilted her head, quirking her eyebrow as if to say 'Really?'
Andy's smile spread across her face, her voice softened, "Because it's you."
Emily groaned, "Gosh, Andrea. Stop being so gooey."
"You like me being gooey," Andy grinned.
Emily would never admit it, but Andy could see how her cheeks faintly turned red. It almost matched her hair.
Emily shook her head. "I'm serious, you don't have to come if you don't want. I know it can be quite…too much. Overwhelming."
"Hey, come here," Andy reached for Emily's hand, threading their fingers together before gently pulling her closer.
"It's not too much," she said softly. "I want to come. I want to be there with you, and the kids." Andy tucked a loose strand of hair behind Emily's ear.
Emily didn't say anything.
She subtly moved closer, letting Andy wrap her arms around her, melting into Andy's embrace.
"Well, if you insist," her voice muffled against Andy's shoulder.
By the time they arrived at Heathrow, the sky had already turned dark. The seven-hour flight from JFK went smoothly. No flight delays, and the kids were sleeping for most of the flight—well, Roark did—Bronwyn spent the first 3 hours of the flight telling Andy the stories from her school. Who knew kindergarten's gossip could be quite scandalous.
They were picked up by Emily's parents at the airport.
"Hey, how do I look?" Andy asked Emily as they were walking to the arrival gate.
"What is wrong with you? You asked for the third time already!"
"I need to look the best for your parents, Em!" Andy argued, before asking again, "Do I have any drool on my face?"
"Bloody hell, Andy. You look fine," Emily assured her. "Why are you so nervous? You've talked to them before."
"FaceTiming them is not the same as meeting them, Emily. What if they decided I'm not good for you?"
Emily stopped in her tracks, then turned to face Andy.
"Andrea, stop panicking. You will be fine."
Andy swallowed hard, still feeling jittery.
Emily rummaged through her Goyard tote bag, taking out a bottle of her expensive perfume—Frédéric Malle, Andy noticed—and spritzed it on Andy. It smelled like rose and warm spices. "If it will make you feel better, I will make you smell a little nicer. Otherwise, they will smell your nerves from kilometres away."
Andy's eyes widened, "Really, they can smell it? Oh my god, do I smell bad?"
Emily gave her a flat look. "Andrea, you're spiraling."
"Right, I'm fine." Andy tried to force a smile, trying not to spiral even further.
Emily let out a soft breath before taking Andy's hand in her, giving it a gentle caress. Her hands were warm. She met Andy's eyes, her gaze softened. "Andrea Sachs, you're brilliant. Don't think about it too much. They will love you…"
Andy breathed out a sigh, some of the tension escaped from her shoulders.
"Though I'm not sure if they will love it if they have to wait longer outside," Emily said as she glanced at her watch.
"You're right. Let's go." Andy released Emily's hand and continued pushing the airport trolley to the gate.
The kids jumped off the trolley as soon as they saw their grandparents waving at them.
Andy stepped back a little to give space, allowing the family to reunite. The kids, as expected, greeted their grandparents with joy and excited screams. Andy watched as Emily exchanged hugs with her parents.
"We've missed you." Emily's mother muttered against her shoulder.
Andy, watching closely, noticed a subtle hesitation from Emily as she returned the hug. She offered a quiet smile once they separated from the hug.
Emily smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her shirt before turning to Andy. Stepping aside, she gestured, "Mother, Dad, this is Andy."
"Hello, Eleanor." Andy grinned, giving a small wave.
"Oh, darling! It's good to finally meet you." Eleanor Charlton, a woman in her 60s, pulled her in a hug as soon as Andy greeted her.
William Charlton—still looking handsome with his salt and pepper hair—as Andy learned, gave a firm handshake and a warm hug. He wasn't a man of many words but Andy could see the affection he had for his family.
The drive to Charltons' home was filled with eventful stories about their life updates. Roark was passionately telling his grandparents about his new soccer—football, Emily corrected quietly—academy. Bronwyn was telling about her loose tooth and the possibility of meeting tooth fairy.
Andy found out Emily's sister wouldn't be joining them this time, and her brother would be arriving tomorrow morning.
Across the car, Emily was smiling fondly as she quietly watched her children animatedly tell their stories. Catching Andy's eye, she mouthed 'What?'
Andy shook her head, smiling. 'Nothing' she mouthed back. Andy had spent the entire flight worrying about the meeting—though she tried not to be obvious. But Emily had been right, everything would be fine.
The wedding was held in the garden next to a red-brick art gallery. Rows of white chairs faced an old willow weeping tree. Under the gently swaying branches, the bride and the groom were exchanging vows and declarations of love.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
The guests erupted in cheers and applause amidst the morning breeze as the newlyweds shared a kiss. Andy instinctively turned to Emily and caught her glistening eyes, tears threatening to spill over.
"Aww, you were crying?" Andy cooed before offering her a pack of tissues—always tucked inside her clutch, just in case the kids needed it. Funny that it was Emily who ended up needing it.
"Don't," Emily held up a hand, not even looking at Andy. "It's the wind."
She accepted the tissue anyway, "…thank you."
Emily dabbed at the tears in the corner of her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara.
Fascinating.
Andy had not imagined Emily Charlton as the kind of person who would be crying at a wedding.
Around them, guests began drifting toward the banquet, while some were chatting with each other, and some were making their way to congratulate the newlyweds. Warm laughter echoed across the lawn.
Andy lingered quietly beside Emily, letting her sit with her emotions for a little longer. Bronwyn and Roark were already tailing after Emily's brother, clinging to their uncle.
"Emily!" A voice called across the lawn.
Emily's cousin—the bride—gathered her dress and hurried to them.
"Sarah! Congratulations, darling." Emily wrapped her cousin in a hug. "I can't believe you're married! You're still a baby in my eyes."
"You did watch me grow up. You basically raised me, Em!" Sarah laughed. "I think I was around Wynnie's age when you started babysitting me."
"Gosh, weren't you a delight."
Andy raised an eyebrow at this new information.
"Aww, you were her babysitter? No wonder you were cr—"
Emily nudged Andy in the ribs, earning a yelp from her.
"Ignore her." Emily deadpanned.
"Goodness, where are my manners!" Sarah jolted. "Hi, you must be Andy. It's so nice to finally meet you." Sarah smiled warmly, "I've heard so much about you from Emily."
Andy blinked in surprise. She couldn't hide the stupid smile that was threatening to break out across her face as her eyes flickered to Emily.
Emily met her gaze and merely shrugged. "Well, I had to complain about you to someone," she said nonchalantly.
Andy smiled fondly. "Mm-hm."
Anyone who saw it could see Andy was utterly devastatingly happy knowing Emily talked about her to her family.
Emily Charlton didn't talk about her private life. Emily kept most things to herself, guarded them closely. But the fact that Emily talked about Andy so proudly? Well, that's another reason for Andy to fall even deeper in love.
Sarah laughed, "Don't worry, it's all the good things." Sarah shot Emily a mischievous look, before leaning closer to Andy and pretending to whisper, "She obviously likes you very much. Don't tell her I told you."
"Sarah." Emily said flatly.
Andy looked at Sarah. "Oh jeez, she used that tone on you too?"
"What, Em? It's my wedding day. Bride's privilege." Sarah declared cheerfully.
Emily sighed. "I see you're still a troublemaker."
"Is that my favourite niece?" A woman in her 50s made her way to them. Sarah waved to her mother before excusing herself to greet other guests.
"Margaret!"
Emily's face lit up. Her entire face softened as she wrapped her aunt without a second thought. Unguarded and trusting. Andy had never seen this side of Emily before.
Emily looked exactly like Bronwyn—like the joy on her face whenever she spotted Emily waiting outside the school gate. Emily had the same unrestrained joy and innocence right now. It was almost childlike.
Margaret laughed as Emily tightened her hug, burying her face and melting completely in her aunt's embrace. The hug looked like Emily's home—her safe space.
"Margaret, this is Andy…" Emily's warm hand found its place behind Andy's waist. She glanced at Andy, a faint smile on her face. "My… girlfriend."
Margaret's eyes widened. Andy could feel her eyes studying her. A cold sweat broke out down Andy's back. Margaret seemed to be one of the people whose opinion mattered to Emily. Swallowing her nerves, Andy offered Margaret her most charming smile, hoping it would work.
Andy's worry disappeared when Margaret gasped in joy and pulled her into a hug, "Oh, darling!"
For someone who hated physical touch, Emily's family sure hug a lot.
"I'm so glad Emily has someone. I think you're the reason she looks positively glowing today."
"I'm pretty sure she's glowing even on her own." Andy flashed Margaret a soft smile.
Somewhere behind her, she heard a grumble from Emily that suspiciously sounded like, "Please don't embarrass me."
Margaret laughed, "Oh, Emily, you got yourself a proper charmer."
"Emily, Andy, let's go have a meal inside!" Eleanor yelled from across the lawn, with Bronwyn happily holding her Nana's hand.
"You lot go first, I need to check on something," Margaret said as she left them.
They walked hand in hand toward the banquet inside the gallery.
"I didn't know you were her babysitter. I'm imagining little Emily taking care of another little baby. It must be so cute!" Andy smiled to herself just thinking about it.
Emily sighed, her voice flat. "It's not exactly the thing I put on my resume, Andrea."
A beat passed before she spoke again, her voice solemn this time. "She was basically my best friend. My only friend, actually. I didn't really have a lot of friends at school—surprise, surprise. And my sister thought she was too cool to hang out with me."
Emily looked ahead as they walked, watching the rest of the guests entering the gallery. Her fingers tightened around Andy's.
"Oh…"
This was the first time Andy heard about this.
"Yeah, she was the only person I could talk to. She was only six. Honestly, I don't think she understood what I was saying. Margaret worked long hours, so Sarah and I ended up spending a lot of time together. But she enjoyed my company and I enjoyed hers. And I think I liked it when she looked up to me."
Andy smiled softly, gently squeezing Emily's hand.
"You really did raise her, didn't you?"
Emily shot her a look, arching an eyebrow. "Don't question my parenting skills, Andrea. I've been doing this since I was twelve."
"When have I ever doubted you, darling?" Andy replied with the most obnoxious British accent she could ever muster—all thanks to the private lesson from Roark.
The Charltons' living room was filled with the appetising aroma of freshly baked banana bread wafting from the kitchen. The evening tea was quiet, save for the occasional laughter from Bronwyn and Roark.
Andy added sugar to her tea and stirred it before letting it cool. Never blow the hot tea—something she learned from Emily.
Eleanor emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of steaming banana bread and set it next to the scones. Andy gasped at the visual. The top was perfectly golden with a crisp crust, an abundance of walnuts covered the loaf. Andy took a piece and put it on her side plate. Ignoring the steam still rising from it, she broke off a piece with her spoon and took her first bite.
And god, Bronwyn was right. The deep flavour of banana tickled her tastebuds just right. The texture was moist and buttery and yet it complemented perfectly with the crisp from the walnuts.
It was worth the burn on her tongue.
“Eleanor, this is so good. Perhaps the best bread I’ve ever tasted in my life,” Andy exclaimed.
Eleanor beamed, “Oh stop. You flatter me.”
“I’m not joking,” Andy laughed. “Is it possible for you to give the recipe?”
Emily slowly turned her head to Andy, an eyebrow raised in absolute bewilderment. It was understandable, considering Andy was not the type who baked. She had once managed to burn a boxed cake mix even after following every single instruction.
“What? I want to make it for Wynnie.”
“Can’t wait to see the disaster,” Emily said wryly.
Eleanor laughed as she said, “Of course, darling. I will write it down for you later.” Eleanor wiped her hands on a tea towel. “Well, enjoy your tea. I’ll be heading upstairs.”
Bronwyn looked up at Andy, her eyes sparkling. “Andy! It’s good, right?”
Andy nodded as she took another piece.
“Mummy, can I have a cup of hot chocolate?” Bronwyn politely asked Emily.
Roark, who was currently sitting next to William, Nintendo Switch in his hand chimed in, “Me too, Mummy!”
Emily stood up. “Alright, you lot stay here.” She looked at Andy, “You too?”
Andy laughed before shaking her head, “No, I’m good. You need any help?”
“I can do this in my sleep, Andrea.” Emily disappeared to the kitchen.
Andy picked up her tea—now properly cooled down—and started drinking it.
William set his teacup down with care. He cleared his throat before looking across at Andy.
“Andy."
She looked up.
"We have something to talk about.”
Andy almost choked at the seriousness of his voice. His gaze locked on Andy’s eyes. Andy gulped nervously.
Could this be the ‘break my daughter's heart and I will break you’ talk?
Or worse, what if this was going to be ‘break up with her, you don’t deserve my daughter’?
“…yes?” Andy croaked out.
“Now that Emily is gone, we need to set something straight.” William’s voice was void of any warmth. Andy couldn’t believe this was the same William she'd been talking to all this time.
Andy took a shaky breath, bracing herself for whatever came next. She sat up straight.
William glanced at Roark beside him, “I heard from Rook that you’re a Gooner." He crossed his arms looking disappointed, before starting again, "The Charltons… We only support Chelsea.”
Andy’s jaw opened slightly. She was rendered speechless. She eyed Roark who was looking at her, shaking his head as if to mock her.
What the— was he trying to sabotage Andy? Two years of dating Emily and he never once mentioned this.
“Uh…” was all Andy could manage.
Years of being journalist and somehow she couldn't find a single word.
“I'm afraid to tell you, I don’t think we can accept an Arsenal fan in this house, Andy.”
Andy knew the British were serious about their football, but she didn’t think it would be this serious. That it would threaten her love life.
“Dad, stop it.” Emily came back carrying in two mugs of hot chocolate. “She’s spiralling.”
Andy looked up at Emily in confusion before William and Roark burst into laughter, high-fiving each other.
Andy looked at Emily and William back and forth, “What’s happening?”
“He was just joking," Emily said. “Dad, look at her. You almost made her cry!”
William was still in stitches when he said, “I’m sorry, Andy. It was just too good. Rook was in it too.”
“Dude…” Andy shot a look at Roark. “Traitor.”
Roark cackled so loud, you could see all of his teeth. He looked far too pleased with himself. "Sorry, Andy!"
“But I wasn’t lying, we are The Blues through and through.” William's voice was serious again.
“Well, I was willing to renounce my Gooner status for Emily.”
“Why, thank you. I appreciate your sacrifice, Andy." Emily deadpanned, giving her unamused look.
The whole table roared in laughter.
Andy shook her head, laughing along with them. "You guys are unbelievable."
Andy had been to London countless times before—chasing stories for Vanguard, attending London Fashion Week for Runway, and more work trips over the year. London shouldn't have fazed her anymore.
Yet walking through the local market with Emily's hand intertwined comfortably with hers, weaving between tourists as the vendors called over one another, Andy felt something settle quietly inside her.
The chilly London air and gloomy skies felt unexplainably romantic that evening.
"Have I told you I used to spend my pocket money at a thrift shop?" Emily started, looking wistful. Emily pointed at a shop around the corner, "It was at that shop. In my, rebellious era—what my mum used to call it—I used to skip lunch just to save enough money and spent it there. I would spend hours just browsing through different fabrics and pieces, putting together different styles."
"It's like your own walk-in closet."
"Exactly. You could say that was where it all started."
Emily kept talking as they strolled deeper into the market, pointing out her favourite ice cream shop, the bookstore where she first found Runway magazine—Sarah Jessica Parker was on the cover, she recounted. They continued walking as Emily shared little tidbits of her teenage defiance.
London felt new as she learned more about Emily.
They walked in silence as Emily quietly looked ahead over Bronwyn and Roark, who were currently holding hands with each of their grandparents—or rather dragging them.
"Nana, look! They have the chocolate fountain! Can I have some with churros, please?" Bronwyn gave Eleanor her best puppy eyes.
Roark gasped as he saw the stall Bronwyn pointed at. He released William's hand and jogged ahead. "Nana, can I have the eclairs too?"
Emily pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Guys, calm down a bit," she called. "Mum, they already had ice cream earlier. They'll be bouncing off the walls tonight."
Eleanor waved a dismissive hand, already taking out money from her purse. "Oh Emily, hush. It's just chocolate. Don't be such a misery."
Emily froze. It was a fleeting, almost imperceptible halt in her stride, but Andy felt it through their intertwined hands.
Emily shook her head, letting out a quiet sigh. "Impossible."
But she didn't protest further; rather, a heavy, sudden silence fell over her. When they started walking again, Andy could feel Emily gripping her hand—tighter than usual.
Andy watched as Emily's gaze was locked ahead entirely on her mother—who was now laughing as she wiped the chocolate mess on Bronwyn's mouth. William was chuckling, happily accepting the eclair Roark offered to him into his mouth.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Andy's lips, thinking how happy the kids looked. How happy this little family that she was lucky enough to be part of.
But when she looked back at Emily, her smile dropped. Andy saw a glimpse of subtle tension locked in her jaw. Emily drew in a quiet, sharp breath. Her eyes looked distant.
Andy reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her forehead, softly smoothing out the crease between her brows with her thumb.
"Hey, relax," she murmured. "Let's think of it as their cheat day."
Emily blinked, as if being snapped out of a trance. She met Andy's eyes and her shoulders subtly relaxed beneath the warmth of Andy's touch.
"Yeah, yeah, no." Emily shook her head, "It's just… my parents spoil them rotten."
"Grandparents are like that," Andy replied gently, squeezing her hand as they slowly trailed behind the rest of the family.
"Of course."
Emily managed a small smile—it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Her grip on Andy's hand remained tighter than usual.
That night, Andy was sitting against the headboard, replying to some urgent emails and then reviewing the draft her junior editor had sent to her on her iPad. She had promised Miranda she would still be available, even from London.
The room was filled with the hum of air-conditioner and the sound of water running coming from the bathroom. Emily's childhood bedroom was—as expected—immaculately tidy and understated. On the corner of her study desk, sat a framed photograph of little Emily and her siblings, together with a photograph of Emily and the kids. Andy found herself wondering, maybe in the future there would be a place for her too.
The floor-to-ceiling bookshelf was lined with books that reflected Emily's life; classic literature books, thick A-level reference books and study guides, well-worn fashion magazines and of course, a collection of Runway magazines.
Emily came out of the bathroom, seemingly finished with her night routine, seeing the eye patches stuck under her eyes. She was dressed in her ridiculously expensive silk pajamas, which contrasted sharply with Andy's faded graphic tee from Urban Outfitters.
The bed dipped slightly as Emily settled on the bed. Emily’s head found its place on Andy's lap. She lazily rested her arm across Andy's thigh.
Andy glanced down at her lap. She quickly finalised the last annotation before putting her iPad aside on the nightstand.
Emily's gaze had drifted somewhere far away, as if her mind was somewhere else.
"Hey, what are you thinking about?"
"Hm?" Emily lifted her head to meet Andy's eyes before resting her head back on Andy's lap. "Nothing."
Andy didn't push but she silently stroked Emily's hair, the way she knew Emily secretly loved.
Emily let out a sigh before rolling on her back, one hand still resting on Andy's thigh. As if she needed something to keep Andy close, something familiar to anchor herself.
Emily closed her eyes for a second before opening it again, blinking as she racked her mind.
"Is it bad…" Emily started, heaving out a heavy sigh before continuing.
The words seemed to get caught somewhere in her throat.
Andy waited patiently.
Emily's attention drifted back to the ceiling. Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the fabric of Andy's pants.
"Forget it. It's nothing." Emily waved a hand vaguely.
"Emily."
Emily let out an exasperated laugh. "It's foolish."
"It's fine, tell me anyway." Andy said softly.
Silence stretched between them.
"Is it bad that I feel jealous of my children?"
Andy's hand stilled in its movement. Taking the question in and thinking where could this possibly be coming from?
"What do you mean, honey?"
Emily bit the inside of her cheek. It was a vulnerability Andy had never seen before. It's like Emily was trying hard to fit the puzzle pieces in her head together, and Andy was trying to understand it too.
Emily opened her mouth, before closing it again. Searching for the right words for her feelings.
"You know, growing up, I feel like I had to fight for my mother's approval, for her attention. I tried so hard to be the prim and proper girl she wanted me to be. But it was never enough. I heard more no from her than I ever heard from anyone else. But seeing how easily she treated my children, a part of me keeps wondering. Why couldn't she be like that with me too?"
"I tell myself she probably meant well. I know she's trying to be better now, with me. But it was just… I don't know how to let her."
Emily let out a dry laugh. "I know it's silly. I should be happy she's treating my kids with such love. Gosh, what kind of mother thinks like that?"
Silence filled between them. It was a revelation for Andy. Her heart ached for Emily.
Andy looked down at her. Suddenly everything she had witnessed the whole weekend had made sense.
"No," Andy started, her voice came out softer than she intended. "I don't think it is silly at all. That wasn't Mother Emily talking, that was what little Emily was feeling. And I think that's totally understandable. You've been wounded as a child and you're just trying to understand it."
Andy continued, "I don't think you're jealous of the kids, I think you're grieving for the little Emily who deserved that kind of love. And it's okay."
Emily swallowed hard.
She reached for Andy's hand, thumb mindlessly tracing the back of it.
"You sound like my therapist," Emily said dryly. After a beat, she added more quietly, "Always knowing what to say."
Andy chuckled and brought their joined hand closer, placing a kiss on Emily's hand.
"Well, maybe I'm just well-versed in Emily Charlton language."
"Oh, shut up." Emily huffed out a laugh before saying quietly, "Thank you…" She added after a beat, "for saying all that."
Andy slid down the mattress so she could lie beside Emily. Draping an arm around Emily's waist, she pulled her closer and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"Just so you know, I've never talked to anyone about this," Emily said. "Not even Frank." Her voice dripping with distaste as she said her ex-husband name.
"Thank you for telling me," Andy said quietly.
"Don't let it get to your head, Andrea."
Andy simply held Emily a little tighter, and Emily leaned into the embrace just a little more.
Andy smiled to herself.
Throughout this trip, Andy kept discovering new sides of Emily; the beautiful, the painful, and everything in between.
She loved them all the same.