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Avoiding the inevitable

Chapter 14

Notes:

Phew, this chapter was rather challenging!

But I think I'm pretty content with the way it worked out.

I sincerely hope you darlings do too!

Let me know if it did!

Or did not,

I always appreciate constructive criticism!

Thank you for reading!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Andy had spent all weekend to find and combine the right words she needed to express herself. Doug was exactly right that her actions wouldn’t do her any good if she wanted Miranda to see and understand the remorse she felt for her actions in Paris, her ignorance, and for their fight last week. She needed to convey her feelings too, by wielding the power she could find in using her words.  

She had thought about expressing them verbally but promptly found out that she had too much to say to Miranda. She was also fairly certain that Miranda would not give her a chance to speak, much less listen to whatever it was she needed to say to her. So, Andy decided to do what she did best, and that was to write. She was a writer, after all.  

However, Andy did not intend for Miranda to find out about her true feelings. She didn’t want Miranda to know that she had fallen in love with her. If she were ever to begin and take such a step forward, they first and foremost needed to be on much steadier grounds at least.   

Miranda had her walls steadfastly in place. Andy was also aware that Miranda might’ve built even more and thicker walls around herself to protect herself in regards to the young assistant. Miranda had made herself into an impenetrable fortress, and vigorously wore her bulletproof armor to strengthen and defend her even more.   

Andy acknowledged that gaining Miranda’s trust back was going to be a slow and difficult undertaking, where she needed to be patient and careful throughout the process. She would have to painstakingly pry down the walls brick for brick, and meticulously remove each layer of the armor. Only then she might have the slightest chance to rebuild Miranda’s trust in her again, only then she might  have  the slightest chance to build up any semblance of a relationship between them.   

Nevertheless, Andy was determined to not only reach for the stars, but she’d set out to reach for the moon as well. And if the moon and stars wouldn’t be enough for the editor, then Andy would give her the planets as well. She would not only live on hope, but she believed in living out her dreams too.   

But even so, Andy was not expecting Miranda to return any of her feelings, she was not expecting her to love her back. The only thing Andy was fighting for right now was to receive Miranda’s forgiveness and to gain back her trust. She needed Miranda to realize that she now understood the pain she had caused her. She needed Miranda to understand how sorry she felt for having hurt her in such an ignorant way. How sorry she felt for not understanding the privilege she had been given as a gift when Miranda had decided to put her faith in the younger woman before Paris. And she needed Miranda to realize that she’ll never want to hurt her again. That she couldn’t even begin to think to try such an attempt ever again.    

No, she wanted her to know that she was prepared to become the walls Miranda needed to protect herself, and consequently her children, from the outside world. Andy wanted her to know that she was someone Miranda could rely on to defend her from oncoming threats. She wanted her to realize that she could be herself around Andy, determined to let Miranda know that if she were to ever need someone for whatever reason it might be, that Andy was permanently the person whose calls she would always take.   

So, Andy had written Miranda a letter. It would be the first baby step she’d take on the road to redemption. Andy figured out that it would not be a wise decision to give Miranda her letter directly by the hand. It was a very real possibility that Miranda would throw it in the trash without so much as deigning it a single glance. And even if by some miracle she were to open it and read it, Runway was definitely not the right setting for her to do so. Andy needed Miranda to read it when she wasn’t wearing her armor and surrounded by her walls. She needed Miranda to read and understand her words when she was simply herself and the only place Miranda might shed all of her defenses would be in the safety within the confines of her own home.   

Thus, when the Book arrived on the assistant’s desk on Monday evening when every single staff member of Runway had gone home for the day, Andy would slip the envelope between its pages, one corner slightly peeking out so Miranda would be sure to find it. It was a dangerous decision for Andy to be so bold and sort of tamper with Runway’s bible. There was a very big chance that Miranda might not appreciate such a reckless act. But Andy could not come up with a better way to do it so decided to take the risk.   

Before slipping the envelope within the Book, Andy took the letter out from its confinement one last time to read it for the umpteenth time since she finished it the evening before.   

 

Miranda,  

Last week, you had asked me why I admire you.   

Consider this me answering that question.   

When you look up the word ‘admire’ in the dictionary, you will see that they give you two definitions that resolutely apply to you.  

When I read the first definition, I could certainly understand why you didn’t want to believe me.  

Admire: to respect and approve of someone for:  

1. What they have done  
2. Their qualities   
3. Their behavior.  

Yes, my actions in Paris undeniably contradict the fact that I do, in fact, admire you.  

However,  

This brings me to my first declaration.  

You most likely thought that I do not respect you due to me turning my back on you by virtue of me not approving of what you had done to Nigel.   
By virtue of me not approving of what I had done to Emily.  

While it is true that I do not entirely approve of the way you have undermined Nigel’s career prospects. I assuredly understand that you were undoubtedly given no other choice in the matter. I would have, albeit in a different fashion, unquestionably done the same to defend and preserve something for which I had spent nearly my entire life working to obtain.   

And might I add, as passionately and invigorating as you have done to continuously improve, defend and preserve Runway to its present-day glory.  

The matter of Emily is something different altogether. That was me being rather positively naïve. I would be a fool if I did not realize that there was absolutely no way that Emily could have worked with a broken leg during the hustling and bustling pandemonium that is Paris Fashion Week. Even I could barely keep up with the pace, though I had to do it in rather ridiculously high heels.   

But if you can do it, so can I.   

That brings me to my second declaration.  

You most likely thought that I do not respect you due to me turning my back on you by virtue of me not acknowledging that we hold several qualities in common.   
Considering you said that you saw a great deal of yourself in me.    

At the time, I frankly could not believe the fact that such a consideration could have been the truth.   

While I may not have known who you were when I had first started out to work for you. I had expeditiously learned and easily acknowledged that you are a force to be reckoned with.   

You were and still are in my eyes the most accomplished, empowering, resourceful, impressive, influential, brilliant, inventive, inspiring, prevailing, emboldened, invigorating, unpredictable, and certainly the most fashionable person I have ever had the honor and privilege of knowing.   

All of these qualities and more, that you wield so beautifully and with such graceful confidence, was exactly the reason why I could not let myself believe that you saw a great deal of yourself in me. 

Because I could not recognize myself in those qualities, yet.
I did not feel confident enough in myself and in my abilities, yet.   

I was still learning so much about myself and now I can say with utmost certainty that I have become a better person today, all on behalf of you.   

It is only by virtue of you that I have recognized that I possess and wield some of these qualities that I see in you.   
It is only by virtue of you that I have grown confident in myself and in my abilities to perform.  
It is only by virtue of you that I genuinely believe that I can do anything if set my mind to it, that I can accomplish the impossible. 

Therefore, the fact that you had acknowledged that we have similar qualities, has become the most valuable and treasured compliment you could have bestowed upon me.   

And now, I strive forward in this world to be just like you.   

That brings me to my third declaration.  

You most likely thought that I do not respect you due to me turning my back on you by virtue of me disregarding the fact that I did not want to be similar to you in behavior.   

Considering you had said that everyone wants to be us. In the view of you implicating that you and I are essentially the same.  

It is true that I do not consider us to be the same. Therefore, I do not believe that there is an ‘us’ in this context. I do not believe everyone wants to be me, and I need you to understand that I do not want to be you.   

There is no one on this entire planet that could even come remotely close to being you.   
There is no one on this entire planet that could even come remotely close to doing what you can do.  

You are so magnificently unique that you are a wonder to this world.   
A mesmerizing enigma is what comes to mind when I think of you.  

You are right in thinking that everyone else wants to be you.   
However, I have a different perception of that statement.  

Since I adamantly believe that there will never be someone like you, means that all I can see is how the world lies at your feet. How you are a marvel to behold.  

The rest of us can only try to follow in your footsteps.   
The rest of us can only try to be a semblance of your brilliance.   
The rest of us can only try and learn from all that you have conquered and created.  

So no, I do not want to be you.  

I want to try and be like you.  

And that is why, Miranda, I admire you.  

A.S.  

 

When Andy let herself in the townhouse, she had expected to go over the ritual of hanging up the dry-cleaning and placing the Book on the table with the flowers in the same way she had done for over a year. Sometimes that ritual now included a quick and whispered conversation with the twins. But luck would have it that tonight, out of all the nights the ritual could’ve been disrupted from its usual traditional steps, tonight had to be that fateful night where things wouldn’t go the way Andy had expected.   

“Andréa.” Miranda’s soft voice floated down the eerily dark hallway but reached Andy’s ears as if her name had been shouted from right in front of her.   

Andy’s entire body tensed up, freezing her in place in front of the table where she had just set down the Book. Her heart instantly picked up at a frighteningly tremendous speed. She could hear her blood rushing loudly in her ears and a horrifyingly cold sweat broke out on her back. Andy couldn’t breathe as she was dreadfully paralyzed by fear. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.    

Out of all the nights Miranda had to call her into the den, which would become without a doubt her torture chamber, it had to be the night where she had hidden a letter to the editor within the Book. The Book which Andy now had to deliver straight into Miranda’s waiting hand. Where Miranda would find the damn letter with Andy still present. With Andy still present, she would open and read the damn letter, and that damn letter will undoubtedly become her own written down death sentence. A death sentence Andy could no longer postpone.   

Forcefully willing her body to move, Andy inhaled a much-needed breath into her oxygen-deprived lungs, reached out her shaking hand to pick up the Book and grudgingly proceeded to walk down the death row to her waiting chopping block.   

When Andy reached the end of the darkened hallway, she paused for a second, hiding in the shadows next to the half-open door to Miranda’s den. She took another fortifying breath to calm her onslaught of nerves and reached out to press her palm against the door. Slowly pushing the door open, she took a step forward, paused again, and stood waiting at the threshold.    

Miranda was seated behind her wooden desk, typing on her laptop. The only light in the room came from a floor lamp standing in the corner behind Miranda, outlining her silhouette from behind, causing her front to be hidden in the shadows. The light coming from the laptop screen caused Miranda’s face to slightly gleam up in a forebodingly subdued glow. Andy could still make out the fact that she was still wearing the same formfitting, classic navy wrap dress she’d worn at work, but could not really discern any of her features.   

“Finally, there you are. Did you smack your little head against the wall? What could have possibly taken you such a glacial pace to get here from my foyer?”    

Andy winced at the condescending tone in Miranda’s voice, causing her apprehension to hand over the Book to grow to an even greater extent.   

“Why are you still standing there? Do you suddenly have a  disability  or is there something your dysfunctional brain cannot comprehend about the fact that I loathe things moving at a glacial pace?” Miranda snarled venomously, impatience dripping from her voice as she held out her hand and flicked it, gesturing for Andy to hand her the Book.   

When Andy eventually started to move, praying for a hole to open up in the ground so she could gladly fall into it, Miranda spoke up again. “I need you to cancel my breakfast with Karl and schedule an appointment with my lawyer no later than nine. Then reschedule my meeting with accounting for the afternoon. Can your little brain comprehend that, at least?”   

Andy placed the Book in the waiting hand, nodded with her eyes downcast, and whispered shakily. “Yes, Miranda.”   

The moment Miranda’s fingers curled around the Book, Andy turned around and headed straight for the door, but was halted in her progress when she only crossed half of the path.   

“Stop.” Came Miranda’s soft command.   

Andy didn’t turn around. She thought she was going to die from her misery and suffering right then and there when she heard the slight sound of papers shuffling.   

“What is this?” She heard Miranda questioning, her tone undecipherable.    

Andy found that she couldn’t respond, couldn’t do much of anything really except for wishing to die.   

“Turn around and answer me, Andréa.” Miranda sternly commanded.   

Andy breathed in a trembling breath and did as she was told. She glanced up for a second to see Miranda holding up the envelope in one of her hands. Never before, in her entire life, had Andy felt so much anxiety pulsing through her.   

Looking back down at the wooden floor, she answered timidly. “It’s a-, it’s a letter.”   

“With the way you seem to be collapsing in on yourself, I would say I am correct in assuming that this is from you?” The question wasn’t asked, Miranda was merely stating the obvious.   

Andy nodded and whispered. “Yes.”   

“This is your resignation letter?” Again, it came out more as a statement than a question.   

Andy looked up at that, suddenly hating the fact that she couldn’t see Miranda’s eyes properly in the shadows. “No! No, I’m not resigning, Miranda.”   

“Then what is this?” Miranda asked once more, waving the envelope.   

Rubbing at the back of her neck, Andy shakily responded. “It’s just a letter. An explanation, of sorts.”  

Raising an eyebrow, Miranda firmly asked. “Saying what?”   

Andy started to fidget with her finger. “I-, I just-, I can’t say. I mean, I want to. But it’s just too much. You just-, you need to read it.”   

“I do not need to do anything, Andréa.” Miranda snapped. “Tell me why I should not just throw this out with the garbage right now.”   

Andy shook her head, her eyes pleading. “I can’t stop you if that’s what you want to do with it. But I really hope you won’t.” She took a deep fortifying breath. “I just needed to express something to you. Something that I need you to hear and understand. I’m not asking you to do anything. Because ultimately, the choice is entirely yours, Miranda.”   

“Hm.” Miranda hummed softly and scrutinized her for a very long moment.   

Andy felt like she was withering away under Miranda’s stare but she couldn’t look away yet. She needed Miranda to see that this was a big deal for her. Her eyes widened slightly and felt a nervous sweat transpiring on her forehead as Miranda opened up the envelope and took out the folded piece of paper.   

Andy watched as Miranda read the first lines of the letter, then her shadowed arctic blues looked up at her for a moment, causing Andy’s heart to thunder almost painfully inside her chest.    

In one swift movement, Miranda swiveled her desk chair around, depriving Andy of seeing even a single inch from her.   

As the seconds ticked by, Andy started to feel intensely self-conscious and extremely embarrassed. Deafening silent seconds turned into excruciatingly loud minutes and she couldn’t stand the tension and humiliation any longer. She looked down at the floor and started to fidget with her hands once more. After what felt like hours had passed, Andy heard the slight movement of the chair turning back around.   

“I see.” Miranda’s voice was barely audible.    

Andy couldn’t look up, she couldn’t say anything, all she could do was wait for the verdict.   

“This is supposed to be your attempt to clear your conscience, is it not, Andréa? I must say, I have never read such an eloquent attempt at groveling before.” Miranda said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.   

Andy frowned but still felt too humiliated to look up at the older woman. She shook her head and tried to explain. “No, Miranda. I’m not trying to clear my conscience. I don’t want to do that. I accept the guilt I have to carry around for what my actions have caused. I accept that I’ve made some  serious mistakes. I’m not denying any of that. I think it is only right to feel as horrible as I do after doing what I have done, after saying what I have said.”    

Andy took a deep breath as shook her head at herself. “But I suppose you’re right in a way, about the groveling. Because, I guess, it is my way of apologizing. I know you probably don’t care or don’t want to hear this from me. And I knew that if I had just come straight out and apologize to you, that you wouldn’t have acknowledged or even cared in the slightest if I did. I needed to find a way so you might understand how serious I am about this. Even if you still don’t care, I had to at least try. Try and make you see that I do admire everything that you are, Miranda, and-”   

She let out a shaking breath, gathered her courage, and looked up at Miranda. “And that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I have done, Miranda. You had privileged me to have given your trust to me, and I have been nothing but an ignorant fool. I have broken that trust. I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am for having done that. I will carry that guilt with me until my dying breath. But I needed to do this. Even if you don’t believe me. I had to express in words how much I regret my actions. Even if you don’t care. I had to try and make you see that I understand how wrong I was, how much at fault I was.”   

Andy looked down again and closed her eyes, not wanting her tears to make an appearance. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m not asking for you to trust me again. I know I don’t have the right to ask you such things. All I want is... All I want is to tell you how sorry I am, Miranda.”   

A heavy silence fell down upon the two women. Once again, the seconds ticked by. The seconds turning into minutes, turning seemingly into eternity. Andy had no idea how long she stood standing there, head still downcast that it was starting to hurt at the back of her neck.    

Then, she heard the sound of the desk chair rolling over the wooden floor, the sound of fabric moving, and the faint patter of bare feet moving lightly towards her.   

“Look at me, Andréa.”    

Andy heard Miranda’s command but couldn’t cooperate. She was afraid that if she looked into the eyes of the woman she loved, and seeing the disdain or ridicule in them after she had bared her heart out to her, that she would not be able to handle it. The hurt would be too much for her to deal with at this moment.   

Andy heard soft footsteps moving closer to her again until she heard them stop right in front of her. She could clearly sense Miranda now, could smell her wonderful perfume, and could hear her quiet breath in the deafening silence of the room.    

Andy jumped slightly in surprise when she felt the warm touch of a fingertip under her chin, sending a tingling sensation to course over her skin. The light pressure suggested that she should move her head up. Andy complied but still scrunched her eyes closed.    

“I said, look at me, Andréa.”     

This time, the command came out as a soft request and Andy found that she could no longer defy Miranda. She could no longer deny her anything. She slowly blinked open her eyes, locking them with the arctic-turned-opal blues of the silver-haired woman.    

Miranda was looking at her, her features showing a serious impassiveness. But her opal eyes were no longer hiding behind her mask. They were gentle, and Andy found herself getting lost in them. She had never seen them like this before, and she found she had never found them more beautiful and mesmerizing than she did now, and that along with the touch of Miranda's skin on hers, had the young woman spiraling into a heavenly trance.  

The two women looked at each other for a minute until Miranda broke the silence that had enveloped them.   

“Thank you,” Miranda whispered, then dropped the hand which finger had still been resting under Andy’s chin until now. She took a step back and inclined her head towards the door. “Go along now, Andréa.”   

Andy blinked out of her daze and smiled shyly at Miranda.    

“Yes, Miranda.” She turned around and walked towards the door. When she reached the threshold, she paused and looked over her shoulder to see Miranda still watching her.   

“Goodnight,” Andy whispered and continued on her journey back home.  

Notes:

Sooooo?

What d'ya think of Andy's letter? I'm dying to know! :D