Hi everybody !
Thanks for everything! You know, writing in French and translate after in English is a hard work but your reactions comfort me a lot!
I hope that there's not too much faults in this chapter!
Bellatrix Weightless Tears : Your review in French is so cute :)
Your French is good, but we say "merveilleuse", because "écriture" is a feminim word.
Evilangels26 : I'm happy that you like my story!
Brigitte Lin : I'm glad that you understand the prologue!
Chapter One :
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
"Miranda?"
Miranda grimaced.
The daylight assaulted the magnificent blue eyes swollen.
Her left arm was sore, connected to a glucose infusion.
Many prominent scratches extended of her cheek to her neck.
Her vision was so blurred that she hardly perceived the face who called her with strength and vigor.
Her trembling fingers stopped on her stomach, trying to grab the silky brown hair of her spouse.
The air was suddenly lacking to her when she realized that her back leaned against a pillow and not against the leather of the car.
Andrea did not kiss anymore her skin and she was not definitively resting on any beach.
"Do you hear me?"
The pixels and the vagueness surrounding her sight dissipated to let appear a familiar head.
The editor's sorrow became more accentuated when the color of the strand seemed red and not more darker.
"Emily..." Miranda articulated, a panic glare darkening her irises.
She wriggled abruptly to go out of what she examined now as being a hospital bed with the only aim to embrace her beautiful wife.
"Don't move!" Emily advised, placing a protective hand on the belly of her superior.
The accident had been traumatizing and the doctor had insisted that Miranda's relatives or close friends rushed to her bedside to watch her vital constants.
Indeed, she had high blood pressure.
The figure was high enough to alert the specialist.
"My baby..." Miranda whispered, thinking of the viability of the foetus.
She was old and she had already been dealing with miscarriages.
This represented a stabbing episode of her past that she had never revealed to Andrea.
"He or she is well!" Emily answered, on a comforting tone.
The assistant had been the first to pick up the phone.
She had grasped Nigel to assist her and Serena had naturally proposed to handle the responsibilities during the absence of their boss.
The replacement was not only made by kindness.
Serena desired ardently that Emily returns to her.
Unfortunately, the redhead coveted another woman with graceful forms.
"Are you sure?" Miranda asked, as her breath became jerky and her phalanxes trembled.
Emily interlaced her fingers with those of her interlocutor.
The heat produced by the exchange reassured Miranda.
She learned slowly to trust in those who surrounded her.
The treason had often obliged her to give up or to get back to her cold and haughty attitude.
"The doctor confirmed to me, she or he is safe!" Emily informed, a smile on the lips.
Miranda was relieved that the fate has spared her child.
She was however not entirely calmed.
The nausea reappeared when her interest focused again on the love of her life and on her injuries.
Andrea had certainly not been as lucky as she.
"Where is Andrea?" Miranda asked, who fought against the symptoms of the pregnancy which seized her.
Emily intercepted immediately the ambient faintness and threw herself on her handbag into which was deposited a bottle of Pellegrino.
"Andy is in a room a little further!" She said, while distributing the water to the bedridden.
Miranda swallowed some mouthfuls.
The liquid seemed saving, dissipating the cardiac palpitations.
"There was a collision. You remember it?" Emily asked, taking out of her handbag a candy bar.
The young woman was surprised when the doctor had announced the pregnancy of her boss.
She had been somewhat jealous, Serena and she had not managed to have a child together and it was mostly this fact that had separated them.
Then Emily resigned herself and her selfishness had turned into compassion.
She was determined to be a perfect aunt.
"A car derived and ... How's Roy?" Miranda wondered, the shrill noise of the brakes of the machine returned to her memory.
The last image that which has been transmitted to her about her driver was his muscles thrown against the rough wheel.
She had heard his bones to break in a big tumult.
The sound had even made her shuddered before she faints.
"A surgeon is operating him!" Emily informed, a strand of desolation in her voice.
The man wasn't breathing when he had been admitted in the hospital and his pulse fell dangerously.
"Is he going..." Miranda said, the throat knotted.
Roy was much more than an employee.
His sense of duty had made of him a precious presence when everybody hated her or give her up.
Miranda had even invited him for the Christmas Eve last year.
"He lost a lot of blood, but I'm sure he'll be okay!" Emily revealed, while the editor nibbled at the snack that which had been given to her.
Emily smiled.
Miranda has slightly sighed when she discovered the candy filled with sugar, but she had resigned herself for the well-being of the baby.
He or she was certainly hungry.
"How's Andrea?" Miranda asked, praying for that the bruises of Andrea was superficial.
Emily confessed then what the ward nurse had explained to her a little earlier.
"She has a cranial trauma and glass pieces cut her temple severely but the medical team is positive."
Miranda moved away quickly of the mattress to sit down in the edge.
She frowned.
Her thin thighs were covered with wounds.
They would form scars.
Andrea would find her horrible.
Her colleagues would see her as a fragile little thing.
They would show necessarily some disgust or worse still, some pity towards her.
"Andrea is awake?" Miranda exclaimed, clinging to the person who matter the most to her, with her daughters.
Andrea represented the light through all this chaos.
"Yes, but..." began Emily, who was trying to stop the enthusiasm of the patient.
It was a waste of time and energy.
Andrea's reassuring arms were missing too much to Miranda.
"I have to see her!" Miranda shouted, imposing on the redhead to accompany her near the one she loved.
Emily shook her head, ready to face all the threats which were going to be uttered.
The expert had required that only one person discusses with Andrea, to avoid any exhaustion.
Emily did not want that Miranda cries.
That's why she was careful not to tell her that Andrea had not asked for her wife in priority.
"Nigel is with her, he will come to give us news!" Emily ensured, so that the hysteria which oppressed Miranda ceases.
The stress was not good for the baby.
"I want to see her!" the editor begged, by raising the tone.
Emmily pushed back the concerned in the sheets.
It was her role to protect her chief.
"Miranda!" pronounced affectionately the redhead.
It was a code.
When the temperament of Miranda became uncontrollable, it was enough that Andrea speaks to her softly so that she stops any excess.
"Don't Miranda at me! It's an order!" the editor continued, furious.
The tactic was not working.
Emily was not Andrea.
She did not possess this charming smile than Andrea addressed only to Miranda, nor this way to always defend her in each debate at work.
Even if she was wrong, Andrea had never left her.
Not even when they quarreled fiercely.
"We are not at Runway!"
Emily never opposed to Miranda when it was a working question.
But, when they were outside the magazine and what their friendship dominated on the rest, Emily was ready for everything to be listened.
"You're still my assistant!"
Miranda tolerated the familiarity and the undeniable support that gave her the redhead, but she could not bear the distance between her and her beloved.
Her heart would not manage to beat correctly if it was not in agreement with Andrea's heart.
"And it is as such that I called the twins to warn them!" Emily declared.
She had not had the choice
The journalists were soon going to broadcast their gossip and to make their macabre predictions.
"You should not have! They should enjoy their holidays!" Miranda complained, who did not approve that her children are disturbed.
It was a question of ego.
Moreover, Caroline and Cassidy needed to escape from the notority constant and sometimes heavy of their mother.
Knocks shook the door of the room before a third person enters.
His white blouse identified him fast as being the doctor.
"Mrs Priestly-Sachs? I am…" he said, ready to shake the hand of the editor.
Miranda rejected the attention, repeating tirelessly what annoyed her.
"I want to see my wife!"
The specialist bit his lower lip, perplexed about what would happen if he objected to the requirement.
Miranda Priestly was known to have torpedoed many careers in a snap of a finger.
"You ...You'll have to be patient!" he stammered, knowing perfectly well that this kind of sentence could be synonymous with unemployment for him.
The urge to vomit reappeared, more powerful than before and she clenched Miranda's pelvis.
The statement of the doctor indicated nothing good, much less his confused look.
"What's wrong?" Miranda asked, standing, with her hands glued to the top of the foot drips.
Face to an absolute silence, the editor panicked.
She removed the catheter and rushed into the corridor.
"Mrs Priestly!" growled the doctor, upset by so much rebellion.
He turned to see Emily chuckled.
"She is always like that?" he asked, visualizing the editor push Nigel to reach Andrea's hospital room.
Emily tapped the shoulder of the doctor, in sign of empathy.
"You are lucky, she did not drunk of coffee."
(...)
Miranda rushed near Andrea, paying attention to the wide bandage that covered the head of this one.
The editor hugged her wife, letting her mouth dwell on the lips that belonged to her.
"Oh my darling! How are you?" asked Miranda, kissing passionately the brunette.
Andrea moved back when the tongue of her boss mingled with hers for a frenzied ballet.
"Mrs Priestly?" she asked, embarassed by so much closeness.
The myocardium of the editor missed a beating.
She had accepted the Andrea cherish her, despite their age difference.
She had accepted that Andrea questions her about her change of first name and the absence of the maternal grandparents of the twins
She had accepted that Andrea moves into her house, even before she proposes to her.
She had accepted that Nate remains a good friend for her spouses.
She had accepted that Andrea aspires to another job than being her assistant.
She had accepted a lot of compromise for Andrea, but she would never agree to be a stranger.
"I am married?"
Andrea looked at the diamond on her ring finger, the stone shone so much that it seemed expensive.
Miranda was offended, overtaken by the magnitude of the events.
The editor could have asked to Andrea to look at the inscription inside the ring, but...keep quiet seemed to be the best thing to do to not worsen the nightmare which she attended.
"With Nate, I bet!"
Andrea had answered with a logic that seemed correct.
Miranda restrained hardly the tears that threatened to flow.
"You are remarried?"
Andrea pointed the wedding ring hat her boss fiddled nervously, as if she burned her skin.
Miranda understood better now.
Andrea remembered her separation with Stephen, but she had forgotten the last two years that included their marriage, their desire to expand their family, the hateful parents of Andrea and so many other things.
"Stephen and I have been divorced for a little over a year!" Miranda explained, who still remembered the lady for which her ex-husband had left her.
The relation of Andrea and Miranda had begun when Miranda had received the divorce papers.
This night, with no make up and completely destroyed by what the press would reveal in order to break her reputation and her career, Andrea had assisted her.
Miranda had asked her to make her job.
It was, according to Miranda, the only thing to do to comfort her a little.
Andrea had made much more.
When the editor began to sob, she had taken Miranda awkwardly in her arms and ...
"Who is the new lucky husband?"
The question of Andrea stopped the thoughts of Miranda to take her back to the harsh reality.
The editor has opened her mouth to look for a parade, a way around the truth, but no sound was audible.
A woman entered in the room and said a sentence that stunned the entire assembly.
"It's me. I proposed to her last night and Miranda said yes! Isn't it my treasure?"
To consolidate her statement, the intruder put a possessive hand on Miranda's hips and kiss her on the cheek.