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Andrea opened the door to Miranda’s study, hoping that her lover wouldn't be snappish tonight of all nights. The columnist had fought to stay sane during her hellish workday as she pounded out an article on political agenda surrounding global warming. Unfortunately now her head itself was pounding. As the door swung open, Andy froze. There was her lover in her office chair, with a busty blonde astride her lap.
“Andrea?!” Miranda all but yelped.
The brunette just closed her eyes and backed into the hall, wishing she could be surprised. She spun on her heel, her physical one since she always removed her shoes at the door, and strode up the steps to Miranda’s bedroom on the third floor. Behind her, Miranda burst out of the doorway in hot pursuit. The fashion icons legendary hair was tousled and her face uncharacteristically distraught.
“Andrea, please darling. I can explain- I was- Candice was- Andrea please listen to me for fucks sake!”
Following close behind Miranda, an even more rumpled Candice was also calling out, “Andy this isn't what you think!”
Andy reached the bedroom and pulled her old college backpack from the closet. It was mostly packed already, containing a few pairs of her own well-loved jeans and graphic tees. The young woman threw a pair of converse in with them and slipped her running shoes on her sockless feet. As she ripped off her blouse, one Miranda had given her, she began to speak.
“The girls like Mac and Cheese on Fridays, Caroline puts ketchup on hers and Cassidy hates that. Learn to tell them apart or they'll never give you the time of day. They might not like you for a few months, but keep with it and they'll never want you out of their sight,” Andrea refused to look at either of them as she spoke.
“Darling? What….Andrea no. Please Andrea.”
Andy acted as if she couldn't hear her, “I'm assuming you already know what's really up Miranda's skirt, but don't forget to remind her that there is nothing wrong with her, that she's beautiful. Don't let her boss you around. Buy potted plants only, no cut bouquets, she loves useful plants. Lemon balm.” She slipped her Northwestern hoodie over her head.
Miranda got down on her knees in the door frame, trying to stop Andrea from leaving. Tears streamed down the editors face, utterly ruining her makeup, “Andrea please don't. Please. I'll do anything.”
For the first time that night, Andrea looked the kneeling woman in the eye, “I knew there was someone else. There had to be. You spent more long nights in the office, you never wanted to even touch me. I just never thought it would be an assistant. A blonde one at that,” the younger woman let out a self deprecating chuckle, “how could I have ever thought you would want to be mine. What is it you said to me, Mira? Everyone wants to be us? I'm leaving, I don't want to be us anymore. I'll send someone for anything else later. Tell the girls I love them.”
With that, Andrea stepped over her former lover, who had slumped to the ground sobbing. Candice caught her arm as she passed, “Andy you don't understand. She loves you.”
The brunette just shook her off, “She used to.”
Andrea walked down the steps, out into the street, and refused to look back.
~*~
Miranda took another long swallow of her liquor, her face showing her age for once. Beside her sat her only friend in the world, Nigel. It had been awhile since the two had drank together, but she had called him as soon as Andrea left. The editor of Men's Runway was less than halfway through his first glass, significantly more sober than his good friend.
Miranda stared at the empty fireplace, “She already had a bag packed, Nigel. Almost all of her clothes were already moved out. She had been expecting this for awhile, and I never even noticed. Have I been that fucking self absorbed? Not to notice that my love was hurting so?”
Nigel didn't answer for a moment, simply staring into the flames of the study’s marble fireplace, “How did this happen, Miranda? What the hell were you doing with that blonde?”
Miranda closed her eyes and leaned her head back, “Candice has been flirting with me for months. I made the major mistake of assuming it was harmless hero-worship, and tonight I let my guard down. The girl decided that tonight was the night to act and sat down in my lap. I had just finished verbally abusing her and insisting she got off me that instant. Andrea happened to come in and assumed the worst. Candice had been about to back off, and had not previously known I was in a serious relationship.”
“Are you lying to me Miranda?”
Miranda's eyes shot open and she stared at her old friend, her glare cold enough to freeze, “What are you implying?”
“I'm just saying that you've not been…..attentive. You're working more now than you ever have before. I know the girls are seniors, but they still need you. Six needed you. Even I have been wondering if your gaze was…..wandering,” Nigel cleared his throat nervously, “I've seen your gaze lingering more on models, let's say, assets. You make little or no reference to any relationship and never seem to have any scheduled outings with Andrea as a family unit.”
Miranda growled, “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I would NEVER be disloyal to Andrea. I love her. More than life itself. I have been working late nights and studying models more because I intend this next December's issue to be my last. I want it to be perfect. I want to spend the rest of my life with Andrea, and I need to be free of this infernal magazine to do so. I am offended that you think so little of me.”
Silence reigned for a long while after that, and eventually Nigel took his leave. Miranda continued to drink alone, eventually falling asleep in her leather chair. She was awoken the next afternoon by two a pits of feet stomping up to the second floor and into her study. When she managed to crack one eye open, she was faced with two seething redhead's.
“Is it fucking true?!” Cassidy demanded.
Miranda was appalled by such language from the quieter of the twins, “Language, Cassidy Marie.”
“Well? Is it?”
“It's what true, girls?”
Caroline puffed up like an angry animal, “Did you cheat on Andy with some blonde assistant? Mom, what were you thinking?!”
If Miranda’s head wasn't pounding before, it certainly was now. Before she could even manage to formulate a response, the two girls were ranting again.
“We asked Andy is we could stay with her at her apartment, but she said that since you two were never married that she has no rights to us. And we're only 17 so you're still legally responsible for us. If we were 18, we'd already be over there instead of with you,” Caroline declared before stomping out again.
Cassidy just took in her mother's appearance for a moment before saying softly, “Mother, what were you thinking? Andrea loves you. She loves us. What did she do to deserve this?”
Miranda began to cry steadily for what felt like the millionth time in the last 24 hours, “Nothing darling, she didn't do a thing. But it's not what she thinks, I did not cheat on her. I would never.”
Cassidy looked at her solemnly, “Don't tell me, got tell Andy.”
Miranda couldn't help but think that her daughter was right.
~*~
Andy was eating a sandwich when it happened, what she had been expecting to happen for the last several hours. There was a soft shuffle of feet from the hallway, the jingling of keys, and a few muffled curses as said keys were dropped and eventually fumbled into the lock. The doorknob turned, but entry was stopped by a sidechain, keeping the door from opening more than a few inches.
“Andrea? Please. Please let me in, Andrea.”
Andy walked over to the door, sandwich in hand, and slid the chain from its cradle. Miranda, who had obviously not been expecting to be granted entry so easily and had been leaning on the door, stumbled on the way inside. The white-haired editor was highly inebriated and opted to sit delicately on the floor before she fell on her shapely ass. For her part, Andy seemed unfazed by this turn of events. She pulled out a chair from her small table and sat in it , facing the sitting editor. The two looked at each other for several long minutes, one an image of calm and the other of turmoil. Eventually the tear-streaked face of her lover became too much and Andy had to look away, instead focusing on the door behind Miranda.
“What do you want, Miranda? Are the girls okay?”
Miranda looked at Andy very hard, as if trying to read deception in the lines of her forehead, but the brunettes face had become an unreadable mask. This was the first time in their relationship that Miranda had no inkling of Andrea’s emotions, and it frightened her beyond compare.
“I WANT you.”
Andy closed her eyes and turned her body partially away, hoping that Miranda wouldn’t see the intense pain in her eyes. Miranda got up on her knees, crawling toward her Andrea, tears streaming down her face faster than ever.
“I need you back in my home, in OUR home, in our bed. I need you to be there in the morning when I wake up. I need you to kiss my cheek as we go our separate ways to work each morning. I need the movie nights we have with the girls, and the weekend trips to the Hamptons.”
At that, Andy finally looked down at her approaching muse, fury blazing hot enough in her eyes to make Miranda stagger back.
“And how many times have you been there for a movie night with the girls in the last several months? How many walks with Patrica have you skipped out on to edit your precious magazine? How many times have you abandoned me to go rule your perfect world? How many times---”
“I’M LEAVING THE MAGAZINE FOR YOU!”
Miranda threw herself into Andy's shocked lap, attempting to choke out words.Of every way Andy had imagined this evening going, a sobbing Miranda in her lap had not been foreseen.
“You...you’re...what?” Andy asked, convinced she had heard incorrectly.
“I’m *hicc* leaving the *hicc* magazine. I….I know I’ve been missing all those things you said. I know I’ve been busy.”
And snorted indelicately, “Busy indeed. Busy fucking someone else in ‘our’ home?”
Miranda grasped the fabric of Andy’s pants, preventing the young brunette from retreating, “Tonight with Clarice was a complete misunderstanding. She had no idea I was taken, and now she more than knows who I belong to. You walked in at the wrong time, my love. She is simply a meaningless assistant. I would fire a thousand before I let one even attempt to replace you. And no one ever could. Please darling.”
Andy began absentmindedly stroking Miranda’s mussed coif, “You’re right, of course. We’re no where close to public about our relationship so she couldn’t have know. But how can I believe you, Mira?”
Miranda kissed the palms of Andy’s hands over and over, “Give me another chance my love, please let me explain. I love you more than life itself.”
Andrea grabbed her lover's hands and rose from her seat, pulling Miranda into a hard hug, “The fault lies in both of us. I should have spoken to you rather than assuming you were being unfaithful. I know you’d never hurt me like that.”
“Never, darling, never in a thousand lifetimes. Remember how I’ve been hesitant to give the public any ideas concerning our relationship? I’ve been cooped up editing my final piece for the last runway issue: an article on you, me, and our love for one another. I can read it to you when we return home.”
Andy kissed her editor, “I would love that, Mira. I love you.”
Miranda breathed a sigh of relief, her Andrea back in her arms, “I love you too, darling.”