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Miranda rarely invited people into their home.
She was very private, and while Andy did love socializing with other people, she respected her wife’s love for the quiet. It worked out perfectly; with how hectic work had been over at the Mirror, Andy looked forward to coming home to a peaceful house.
But today was different. Today was… Andy had absolutely no idea what today was. She had checked the calendar on her phone several times to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything important—like birthdays, or dates, or, god forbid, their anniversary.
Today, Miranda was simply in the mood to have people over. Of course, the people only consisted of Runway staff and a few designer friends.
It was a bummer, however, that Andy had to work late. They were finally making progress on a lead they’d been chasing for months regarding a major political scandal, making it crucial for Andy to be in the office as a senior writer.
When she finally made it home a little after five, the party was already in full swing.
“Welcome home, darling,” Miranda greeted her at the door, pressing a kiss to her lips.
Andy smiled, a familiar warmth blooming in her chest. She loved coming home to Miranda. She loved being wrapped in the editor’s embrace, and she loved being ushered toward a group of people and be introduced as her wife.
She slipped in an empty seat next to Nigel at the dining table while Miranda went to the kitchen to refill the food platters.
It was a lovely night.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, Miranda picked her glass up and clinked it with a spoon, catching the room’s attention.
Andy couldn’t help but admire the way Miranda’s eyes sparkled. She looked absolutely over the moon.
“As you all know,” Miranda began with a small laugh, “I don’t particularly enjoy gatherings. However, I consider everyone in this room important—though if you repeat that, I will deny it.”
A chorus of laughter echoed through the dining hall. Miranda’s eyes drifted to Andy, softening with an intimacy that made Andy’s pulse skip.
Miranda cleared her throat.
“I am here to announce that I have decided,” she took a breath, “that I am retiring.”
Andy’s eyes widened, and the gasp she let out mirrored those of everyone else in the room. Beside her, Nigel froze, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. Andy’s jaw dropped. Retiring? Miranda hadn’t said a word.
“No,” Miranda waved a hand dismissively. “Not permanently. I am taking a break. My apologies. From work.”
“For how long?” Nigel asked, horror etched in his face.
“A few months? Perhaps more? Who knows?” Miranda shrugged.
Andy blinked, then nervously licked her lips.
“You didn’t tell me,” she murmured, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Miranda turned to face her directly, her gaze softening with affection. “Because it’s a surprise, dear.”
Andy nodded slowly. She really didn’t mind if Miranda took a leave from work. In fact, she had been encouraging her to take a vacation for some time now, but Andy had gotten so caught up in her own job and the matter had simply dropped.
Still, Andy would have loved to be included in the decision making process—if only to voice her support, rather than being left completely in the dark.
Before she could voice her dismay, however, the doorbell rang. Miranda rushed to answer it. Andy looked around the room , noting that every invited guest was already present.
“Is she expecting more people?” she whispered, turning to Nigel.
“Why ask me? You’re the wife.”
Andy rolled her eyes. Well, apparently, being the wife did not guarantee you all the exclusive information.
Miranda returned a moment later, carrying a box wrapped securely in layers of bubble wrap. She looked down at Andy with furrowed brows.
“Andrea, it is addressed to you. Marked urgent.”
“Oh. I didn’t think my documents were coming today,” Andy said, completely oblivious. She held out her hand. “Pass it here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re eating,” Miranda said, setting the package down on the table. “I will open it for you.”
That, she would realize much later—with immense regret—was the absolute worst suggestion Miranda had ever made.
Miranda sat back down as the guests continued chatting about the announcement, about work, about other people’s business, and literally everything else.
Picking up a silver steak knife, Miranda slit the plastic wrapping, revealing a plain brown cardboard box underneath. The editor hummed thoughtfully as she stripped away the bubble wrap and tucked it under the table. Then, very carefully, she lifted the lid of the box to reveal—much to Andy’s horror—a massive, skin-toned silicone dildo complete with an absurdly realistic texture, vein details, and a ridiculously oversized base.
Andy’s soul exited her body.
Fuck.
The package was hers, after all. She had completely forgotten about the online order she’d placed a week ago after a glass of wine when Miranda was out of town. It was supposed to arrive in discreet packaging which was, to be fair, exactly how it arrived.
Miranda stared into the box, blinking once, then twice, before looking around the room, which had fallen dead silent at the sight.
Nigel had choked on his food and Emily let out a strangled squeak as if holding in a laugh.
Andy wasn’t really the suicidal type. She loved living. Miranda made life worth it. But at that particular moment, Andy wanted to grab the toy, shove it down her own throat and simply choke to death.
Death by a dildo. How poetic.
“Hmm,” Andy opened her mouth to reason, her cheeks burning. “I… yeah. That’s mine. I bought that. I…”
Miranda only raised one curious brow. Slowly, she looked up, her gaze locking onto her wife. Andy could see a flush of pink blotching her wife’s neck and cheeks, and though it was definitely the wrong time for it, she couldn’t help but think about how beautiful Miranda looked when flustered.
Miranda placed the cardboard lid back over the monstrosity.
“Indeed,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nigel, god bless his soul, clinked his own glass. “Well! Speaking of shocking, did everyone see Dior’s latest release? Gorgeous!”
The table erupted into a chatter, everyone pretending they hadn’t just witnessed Miranda Priestly unbox a sex toy, on the dining table of all places. Miranda quietly lifted the box, her fingers gripping the cardboard tightly, and walked upstairs without a single word.
As the last of the guests had finally left, Miranda closed the front door with a resounding thud, the lock clicking heavily into place.
Andy stood in the center of the living room, sweating through her silk blouse, mentally preparing herself for a much needed conversation about the break, and… everything else.
When Miranda returned, she was quiet. Her hair was slightly undone, and that flush hadn’t left her skin—if anything, her eyes were darker, wide and dilated, looking at Andy with an intensity that made the room feel hotter despite it being fully air-conditioned.
“You didn’t tell me you were taking a break,” Andy started.
“I told you,” Miranda said, rubbing her own arm. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“But don’t I deserve to have a say in that? It was such a big change, and I was completely blind to it.”
Miranda frowned, and Andy watched her shoulders drop. Letting out a soft sigh, Andy crossed the room to where Miranda stood. She gently took the editor’s hands, wrapping her arms securely around her waist.
“I want to be a part of your life-changing choices, Miranda. I want to support you through them. I don’t want to be sidelined.”
“I didn’t mean to sideline you. I just… I wanted to show you that I listen to your needs. You… you wanted me to take a break, so I took it,” Miranda rambled, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve had enough failed marriages, Andrea. I wanted to do things right this time. I… I do understand. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
Andy leaned in close, pressing a chaste, reassuring kiss on Miranda’s lips, catching the hitch in the editor’s breath.
“I love you, Miranda. This marriage is never going to fail.”
Miranda hummed softly, tilting her head, silently asking for another kiss.
“Do you have any plans how you’re going to spend your time off?” Andy asked a second later, nosing the curve of Miranda’s jawline.
Miranda trembled slightly against her, her hands gripping the fabric of Andy’s blouse. “I don’t. I was hoping you could help me.”
Andy laughed softly, pressing her lips to the junction where Miranda’s throat met her shoulder, feeling her pulse flutter rapidly beneath her skin.
“Well, I did have a surprise of my own.”
Miranda swallowed audibly. “I saw. I believe everyone did. Though I must say that the dimensions were… ambitious. Is there something I’m failing to provide you?”
“Who said it was for me?”
Miranda pulled just enough to look at her, her breathing uneven as her eyes flickered hungrily between Andy’s eyes and lips.
“When did you buy it?”
“A few days ago,” Andy said, capturing Miranda’s lips into a deeper kiss. “I know exactly how to help you fill your schedule.”
“You do?”
Andy licked along Miranda’s lower lip, sucking on it before releasing it go with a soft pop.
“It comes with a special feature, you know.”
Miranda’s eyes twinkled in anticipation, a wicked spark replacing her earlier embarrassment.
“It has a remote control. And it vibrates.”
Miranda gasped softly against her mouth, a delicious shiver running down her spine.
“Then I suggest that we begin immediately.”
It was going to be a very fun break. Maybe, Andy should look into taking some time off of her own. She would think about it later. For now, she had toy to test—and oh, a long break to spend with her wife, and it was starting tonight.