Chapter 5, Part 5 (aka Ch 29/29)

I woke to the sounds of rustling clothes on the other side of my bedroom. "Andrea?" I called. It was dark in the room, and my head was still foggy.

"Shh, go back to sleep—I'm just sorting my clothes," she said, walking over and kneeling next to the bed. I felt her soft fingers stroking my cheek and smiled, allowing myself to fall back asleep, hoping she would replace the nightmare that had been playing on repeat all afternoon.

Little did I know that while I slept, Andrea packed her suitcase and tote and carried them downstairs, leaving only a clean set of clothes to wear the following morning.

I woke again a while later and felt the empty space in the bed next to me. "Andrea?" There was no response, so I reached over and checked the time on my phone: 11:38 PM. Seeing that I had one voicemail from James, I quickly checked it.

Hi Miranda, it's me. Um, listen. Things got out of control earlier. I think we should talk. The girl are fine—sleeping now—but please call me when you get this. I want to take back some of the things I said. And…discuss a joint living arrangement for our daughters. Uhm, yeah. So, call me back when you get this.

I bit my lower lip as I replayed the message. Taking back what he said? A joint living arrangement? I smiled. There was hope. Slowly, I got out of bed and went in search of Andrea. Seeing light seeping out from under the door to the study, I knocked gently before pushing it open, finding Andrea sitting on the couch with her laptop.

"Are you coming to bed, darling?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

She looked up from her screen. I could feel her eyes devouring me. The t-shirt was barely long enough to cover everything, and I was sure she realized I was not wearing any underwear. Now she knows what I felt like when she had that bodystocking on the other day.

"Andrea?" I asked again, jolting her from her thoughts.

"Sure," she said with a half-smile, closing the lid of her laptop. "I was just trying to catch up on some things from earlier. Are you feeling better?"

"Much," I said, unable to hide my smile. "James left me a message—he wants to talk about joint living arrangement for the girls. I think I'll call him back now—he's usually up late."

"Wow," Andrea said, gathering up her things and stacking them neatly on the coffee table. "Why don't you wait until morning to call him back?"

"He seemed anxious to talk to me—I really don't want to delay this," I said.

"You've had a long day," she said. "You're better off talking tomorrow morning when you have a clear head."

Come to think of it, I still felt a little groggy. "Okay," I said, nodding as we both headed back to the bedroom. I sent a quick text to James explaining that I would call him first thing in the morning, then powered off my Blackberry so as not to be disturbed. I turned back to Andrea, curling up against her slender body. "Are things going okay at work? You seem on edge," I asked her.

"Yeah, I just want to make a good impression, you know. My first edition is officially on Sunday, so I'm just a little nervous," she said.

"I'm sure it will be great. I can see how hard you've been working," I said. "I'm sorry if I've gotten in the way of your work," I added, thinking to how she rushed to my side earlier that day.

"Don't worry about it. Look, I have to be in early tomorrow because a few sections of the Sunday paper are printed in advance, at 7 AM on Friday. Then the movers are moving the boxes out of my old place tomorrow afternoon. I just want to hold you tonight and get some sleep if that's okay."

"Okay," I said, softly kissing her shoulder and wrapping my arm around her waist, "good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Miranda."

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed and was shocked to see I had slept past eight. I quickly reached for my Blackberry to tell Emily I would be running late, and I was shocked to see nearly fifteen missed calls from James, in addition to a note from Emily that she was rescheduling my morning.

Quickly checking my voicemail, the only words James left was "Call me back." Without hesitation I dialed his number, only to be sent to voicemail.

I spent the next hour getting ready, keeping my phone nearby in case he returned my call. Once dressed, I headed down to make myself some coffee and toast, again dialing James' number.

"Miranda, thank god."

"James, what's wrong? Are Care and Cass okay?" I asked, panicked.

"Yes, yes, they're fine. They're at school now. Miranda, I need to talk to you."

"In case you've forgotten, I have a job to attend to. I can't keep dropping everything for you and your whims. As long as the girls are safe and they don't need anything, can't we have this conversation this evening? Maybe we can meet somewhere neutral for dinner?"

James sighed. "Fine. But don't say I didn't try," he murmured.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, let's try for six," he said. "You can come over, I'll have Cara make something."

"Okay, tell the girls I'm looking forward to seeing them," I said. I still wasn't ready to trust James one hundred percent.

"Uh, one more thing…did you talk to Andrea this morning?"

"No," I said, twisting my lips. "And what business is that of yours?"

"Nothing. You're right, it's not. I'll see you tonight," he said, ending the call.

Strange man, I thought as I finished my coffee. I stood and peeked out the front window. Seeing Roy waiting for me, I quickly cleaned up the kitchen then went to gather my things, tucking the Book and whatever papers Emily left back into my bag, knowing I would have a lot to catch up on this morning.

Once in the backseat of the town car, I sent a quick text message to Andrea: "Having dinner with James and the girls tonight. Hope your day's going well. See you later. xo M" Without a second thought, I tossed my phone back into my bag.

The rest of the morning went quite well, considering the past few weeks. I know Emily was flustered to see me in earlier than she expected, but I explained to her that I did not want to be disturbed until after lunch, so hopefully that set her at ease. I was surprisingly productive that morning.

Seeing it was 11:30 AM, I pulled out my phone, knowing this was when Andrea took her lunch break. I dialed her number, and was surprised when it went straight to a generic voicemail greeting. Opening up my messages, I saw that the text I sent her earlier was marked "undelivered."

I quickly sent her an email reiterating my dinner plans. Then, I instructed Emily to look into the plan for the phone and to make sure it was up to date or whatever because it appeared that it wasn't getting a signal today.

Sighing, and not wanting to deal with that incompetent Lizzy, I scrolled through a few emails from earlier in the week and found Andrea's work cell phone number in her email signature.

Dialing the number, I was again directed to Andrea's voicemail, where I left a message: "Darling, I'm starting to get worried—I haven't heard from you. I know you're busy today, but I just wanted to say hi. I love you."

I looked over at the clock—I had just over an hour before my first meeting of the day. I wasn't really hungry, so I put my glasses back on and went through the loose papers that were stacked with the Book.

The first was a memo from Irv to all of Elias-Clarke staff, asking that we be mindful of energy consumption and try to keep unnecessary lighting and electrical "off" when not in use. The second was a copy of the period four expense report, with the Runway line circled in red. It didn't matter to him that Runway was responsible for ninety-percent of the company's revenue…no, we were still only allowed the same share of expenses as Auto Universe. Seriously, I wondered if this man had failed basic math in grade school.

I almost threw away the next sheet, until I recognized Andrea's handwriting. Lifting it up, I leaned back in my chair to read it.

Dear Miranda,
By now you've probably realized that I've moved out of the townhouse. I'm not taking your calls, and, well, I'm not coming back. I know this is cowardly, but I didn't want to give you the opportunity to use that icy glare on me again like you did when I was your assistant. Miranda, we're through. I'm tired of being mixed up in your divorces and custody battles, not to mention having to worry about the press seeing us if we're ever in public. I'm tired of the fancy food and expensive clothes. I'm tired of private booths and using your name to get what I want. I don't need that anymore.
I need someone younger, someone who doesn't try to control me, someone who isn't so needy and clingy. I need someone who puts me first. Unfortunately, you were none of that. I thought for a split second that you could change—I really did. When I first recognized your attraction towards me, I thought we could give it a try. So we did, and honestly, I felt nothing. I knew it would have been a mistake to leave you when I would be unemployed and homeless, so I put up with it until my situation was stable. And now, I need to get on with my life.
You're not a bad person, just not good for me. I hope you understand and that you find someone else to give you what you need. I know any number of men and women who would jump at the chance. I just couldn't bring myself to lie to you any longer. I'm sorry.

Andy

P.S. The rent and security deposit that we decided upon for the apartment will be deposited into your account in advance on the first of each month. Contact my broker at 213-123-4567 if you have any questions.

"This—this, it can't be," I said aloud as my eyes scanned the words on the page over and over. "No—no—no, it's just not true," I said as tears streamed down my eyes. "This is a cruel joke," I cried, except I knew deep down it wasn't.

Suddenly, everything fell into place. The cell phone. Leaving early this morning. Her anxiety last night. How long had she been planning this, I wondered.

Once my anger began to kick in, I picked up my phone and called her again, leaving several angry messages, followed by a rather humiliating apologetic one as I sobbed into the receiver and begged her to take me back, promising I would change.

Knowing she would not return my calls, I opened the bottom drawer of my file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky. I kept this in the office for rare occasions, and this was certainly rare, indeed.

Was it true? Did she really feel nothing? Was she lying to me—just 'putting up with' me? I knew I needed to talk to someone, but I feared that Nigel would lecture me with this "I told you so" conversation I was nowhere near ready to have.

Throwing back several glasses—was I on four or five by now?—I sat facing the window, the letter resting on my lap. It was already crumpled, and tears blurred the ink in one section. The only thing I felt right now was the need to have Andrea's arms around me. Maybe if I drank enough, I wouldn't feel anything.

"Miranda?" Emily called, startling me from my thoughts. I slowly opened my eyes. I was holding the letter in one hand and an empty glass in the other. "Miranda," Emily continued, opening my office door and walking up to my desk, "Your one o'clock—oh!" she gasped, running out of the room.

I can only imagine what I looked like, eyeliner and mascara running down my face and dripping onto my white blouse, eyes glazed over and red-rimmed with tears.

"Andrea won't take your call!" I called after Emily. I heard her hang the phone up and quietly walk back to the doorway of my office. "She will not answer your call."

"What are you talking about, Miranda?" she asked. "I can call Roy to take you home if you wish."

I shrugged. Several minutes later, Emily was at my desk, packing some things up. "Here," I said, handing her the letter to add to the items in my bag. "Go on, you can read it," I said, pouring the last drops of whisky from the bottle.

Emily glanced at the letter, long enough to get the idea. "No, Miranda, I can't. This is private. Roy is waiting downstairs. Do you need anything else?"

I finished the drink in my hand and reached for her hand to help me up from the chair. For being as thin as she was, I was surprised at her strength as she pulled me to my feet. She held out my bag, which I threw over my shoulder before I marched out and towards the elevators, careful to keep from swaying.

Roy met me at the elevators, and I gratefully leaned on him as he ushered me into the car. Without saying a word, he drove me to the townhouse and helped me over to the couch in the den. I could see he wanted to stay, but I shooed him out. I needed to be alone.

Why does it always seem like when things are going well and I'm actually happy for once, my world comes crashing down on me?

I don't know how much time had passed, but it was now dark outside and someone was banging on my front door. I crawled off the couch and steadied myself, feeling a wave of nausea coming over me. I stumbled into the bathroom and emptied the liquid contents of my stomach into the toilet before rinsing out my mouth. I tried to remove the makeup stains on my cheeks with a hand towel before turning my attention back to the insistent banging on the door.

"Miranda! I know you're home! Open the god damn door!" James bellowed.

"Okay!" I shouted back, making my way over to the door to let him in.

"Miranda, I—Jesus, what happened to you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's nice…to see you…too," I said, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"How much have you had to drink?"

I shrugged. "I don't know…two? three?" I said, gesturing with my hand. Unfortunately, the slight movement caused me to lose my balance and topple into the wall. "I'm fine, really," I protested as James picked me up and carried me upstairs.

"You need to take a shower and sober up," he said, gently standing me up in the middle of my bathroom. "And then I need to talk to you," he said. "Now, I'm just going to help you with the buttons, but then I'll wait outside," he added, quickly unbuttoning my blouse and undoing the top clasp on my skirt before turning the shower on and stepping out.

I peeled my blouse off and unzipped my skirt, letting the clothes fall to a pile in the center of the floor. Carefully balancing on the towel bar, I slid my underwear down and stepped out one leg at a time. After that, I unclasped my bra and walked into the shower.

I hissed as the cold water splashed against my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms and making my nipples pebble. Switching on the hot water, I quickly washed my body, then turned the water off. I couldn't say that I felt better after the shower, though, since it had only sobered me up enough to remember Andrea and the harsh words she wrote.

I dried myself off with a towel and wrapped a robe around my body before taking a seat at the small stool under my vanity to remove my makeup. Tears crept into my eyes as I began wiping the mascara stains away with my argan oil cleanser, bringing memories of Andrea too close to the surface.

James knocked gently on the door before pushing it open. For a minute, I forgot he was even here. "I grabbed something for you to throw on—is this okay?" he asked, awkwardly handing me a stack of clothes.

"It's fine, give me a minute," I said, taking the clothes from him. He shut the door again and I hung my robe on the hook, stepping into the underwear and Lululemon yoga pants he selected, along with a built-in-bra tank and a zip-up cotton/lycra blend jacket.

Opening the door, I walked over to the bed and sat next to him. "Okay, let's talk," I said.

"Miranda, we were worried about you. I told the girls you were looking forward to seeing them at dinner, but you never showed up. I didn't want to alarm them, so I pretended like I had just received a text from you that something came up, but I was worried," he said, resting his hand on mine on the bed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have stood the girls or you up like that," I said. "It's just—" I somehow couldn't bring myself to tell him what had me so upset. Although, it was slightly suspicious why he wasn't asking—unless he felt subject to Emily's rules, too.

"Miranda, I'm an idiot. I tried to get in touch with you last night and then again this morning to tell you what was going on, but it just pissed me off that you were blowing this off for work," he said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Maybe I wasn't as sober as I thought. I couldn't follow his train of thought.

"Andrea," he said. "I'm presuming you read her letter sometime between talking to me this morning and missing dinner?"

I gasped. "Wh—what do you know about the letter?"

"Miranda, she came to talk to me last night. You can't let her go. She's one of the best things that happened to you. The girls look up to her, and she would do anything for you—in fact, that's what she did."

"What do you know about this letter?" I asked again, not quite following his train of thought. "And I thought you said she was a whore and a golddigger?" I spat.

"Look. I'm sorry. Last night she asked me if I would let you see the girls if she wasn't in the picture. I said yes. I had no idea what she was going to do or how it would affect you."

"So...you planned this with her?"

"No, it wasn't like that. Miranda, don't you see? She sacrificed her own happiness so you could be with the girls. She left so you wouldn't have to choose. I was a fool to think that would solve everything. But even more so, I now see what a good person she is, how she loves you and the girls. She's a good influence, Miranda, and you can't let her go."

"I don't seem to have a choice."

"Yes, come on, we're going to talk to her."

"What? No. I can't. She doesn't want to see me," I said. Suddenly, I felt afraid to face her. "Plus, we, uh need to talk about a custody arrangement."

"Can we can talk in the car?" James asked. "I feel awful and really want you two to straighten this out. I don't want to explain to the girls why Andy doesn't come around anymore."

"I don't think she'll take me back," I said as James stood and helped me to my feet. "She said I'm too old and controlling and clingy—and she's right," I cried. James draped his arm over my shoulders.

"Please trust me, Miranda," he said. "I need to fix this."

I nodded and followed him out to the car. "So, what does this joint custody entail?" I asked, pulling my knees to my chest in the passenger seat of his car.

"Well, I realized that I can't keep them from you. I may not agree with all of your personal decisions, but the girls need a mom. They're going to be getting their periods and going to dances with boys and all that stuff," he said. "They need you. And two moms are even better than one."

A tear slipped from my eye. "Thank you for realizing that," I said. "I also know they love you, too, and I'd never want to keep you out of their life."

"So, what I was thinking," James said, careful to keep his eyes on the road, "was that we could have our custody arrangement re-drawn so it's more like 70/30. For the most part, the girls could live with you, but I could have them every other weekend and twice every two weeks, which breaks down to two days per week."

I nodded, doing the math in my head. So for every fourteen days, James would have them one weekend plus two days, so a total of four days, which was more like 72/28, but who was counting. "I think that could work," I said. "Then you could take them for a long weekend if you wanted, and we could still be flexible around our work schedules and travel commitments."

"Exactly," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You don't mind that I want this in writing?"

"No. I'll want my lawyer to look it over before I sign, but I agree that our official custody agreement should include us both." After several minutes of silence, we came to a red light. "So what's the catch?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, there's no catch."

"I'm supposed to believe that overnight you just changed your mind? One day you're threatening an order of protection and the next you're so agreeable?"

"Really," he said. "I told you, after talking to Andrea last night, I just, I don't know, had a realization. I know I would regret it if I kept them from you. If it's okay, I'll bring them over Sunday night with their things.

I nodded. If there was more to it, I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it right now.

When we arrived at Andrea's, I didn't even bother asking how he knew her address. My stomach turned when I heard her voice answer the intercom.

"Andy, it's James."

"You shouldn't be here," she said cautiously. "It's late—"

"I need to talk to you—it's about Miranda."

"Oh god is she okay?"

"Can I come up?" he asked.

"Eighth floor, turn left," she replied, followed by a buzzer indicating we could enter.

"I can't do this, James," I said, struggling to take a deep breath in the elevator. "I—I can't face her."

"Yes you can," James said, tugging me out of the elevator with him.

Although I wanted nothing more than to be back in her arms, this felt like torture—like it was my punishment to be dragged to face the one who scorned me.

As we approached her door, she quickly opened it. "Miranda!" she gasped.

I moved behind James and tried to pull my arm free but he was gripping my wrist too tightly. I couldn't breathe. I needed to run—to leave and walk away before she hurt me any more. I hardly noticed that James had walked me inside until he eased me onto the couch.

"Andy," James said quietly, "I know I've exchanged some unkind words regarding you, but what you did yesterday changed my mind entirely. You are a good influence on Miranda and my daughters, and though I don't understand how or why you love my ex-wife, it's quite clear that you do. Miranda needs you as much as she needs the girls, and I was a fool to think it could be one or the other."

"Okay…" Andrea said cautiously, "So what do you want from me?"

"Explain to her that you didn't mean what you wrote in the letter. Explain that you were just doing this so she could be with the girls. Take her back."

My eyes were tightly shut as I buried my head in my lap. This was utterly humiliating, and were I stronger, I would have run away. "Will you please stop talking about me as if I'm not here?" I said.

"Give us a minute?" Andrea asked James. He got up and stood in the doorway, no doubt preventing my escape. "Miranda, what he said is true," she explained, sitting next to me.

"Writing that letter to you was the hardest thing that I have ever done. Saying goodbye to you, knowing that last night was the last time I could hold you in my arms…I was a mess all day today. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but of course, you were the one I could no longer talk to."

She picked up my hands and held them until I looked up at her. "Please forgive me. I was only trying to do what was best for the girls. I am sorry I've hurt you so much," she said. Tears began to stream down her cheeks but she didn't bother to wipe them away. "I love you, Miranda."

"So…you don't think I'm too old or too clingy? You're not just using me?" I asked. Part of me still needed the reassurance since her words cut so deeply into my insecurities.

"No, none of it was true. I just knew that would be the only thing you would believe," she said. "Okay?"

"Okay what?"

"Okay, do you forgive me? Will you stay here tonight?"

Looking up at her, I was so flooded with emotion I was speechless. Nodding, I reached up and wrapped my arms around her, burying my head against her neck.

James cleared his throat from the other side of the room. "If you two are okay, I'm just going to head home."

"Yes, thank you," I said, standing from the couch. "Tell the girls I'm sorry about tonight and will see them Sunday."

"Okay, see you," he said as he stepped out the door.

Andrea quietly stood behind me and slipped her hands around my waist. "You know, I even love you when you've had too much to drink," she said. "Let me get you a glass of water and some aspirin," she added.

I took the offered aspirin, but knew I would still be feeling the effects well into tomorrow.

"How about something to eat?" she asked. "I don't have much, but there's leftover pizza in the fridge, or I can run to the cafe around the corner and get some soup or something?"

"Andrea, I'm really not hungry," I protested.

"I'm sure you haven't eaten all day, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Pizza is fine. Just one piece."

As we sat a the barstools and ate cold pizza using paper towels as napkins, I took a minute to look around the place. Emily really did a great job arranging the furniture, and the pale blue paint with one cobalt blue accent wall was quite striking. I could see that the bedroom looked to be a soft lavender and the bathroom was turquoise.

"I wish—"

"How much—" we both began to speak at once.

"Go ahead," I said.

"How much whisky did you drink?" she asked.

"I didn't keep track. But I know I finished the bottle in my office," I said.

"The Maker's in the bottom drawer of the cabinet?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, puzzled how she knew about my secret hiding place.

"What were you going to say?" she asked.

"That I wish I could have helped you move," I said, setting down my half-eaten piece of pizza. "Andrea, I'm so sorry about all of this. I wish you never had to get involved. The divorce, the custody, the press..."

"Hey, don't say that," Andrea said, softly cupping my cheek. "I'm not going anywhere now," she said, kissing my cheek. "I want to be here with you," she added before pressing her lips to mine.

I moaned into her lips, all the stress from the past thirty-six hours melting away as she climbed off the barstool and stood between my legs. I quickly forgot about the pizza and wrapped my legs around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Oh, Andrea, I love you so much, darling," I whispered as she pushed my jacket off my shoulders, trailing kisses down my collarbone. I felt my muscles clenching as she nipped and sucked at my skin. I had no doubt my panties were soaked through. "Oh god, I need you," I cried.

I felt her slowly pull away, the loss of her body heat sending a chill down my spine. "Andrea?"

"Come to bed," she said, offering a hand to help me off the stool. I took it and followed her into the bedroom. "I just want to hold you tonight, if that's okay?"

I froze and pushed her away. "That's what you said last night, and then you left with no intention of coming back." I could feel the panic rising within me as I raced through the memories of the past few days.

"Whoa, whoa, relax," she said, "I'm not leaving. I just—I don't know. I can't explain it. I just want to feel you, listen to you breathe, you know," she said. "Can I?" she asked, tugging at the strap on my camisole.

I nodded, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as she gently removed my clothes before attending to her own. "Come on," she said, lifting the duvet for me to climb in. She followed after me, crawling over me to get to her side. After repositioning, I laid my head on her shoulder.

"This does feel good," I said. My body was draped across hers, my left foot twisted against her right ankle. I could feel my body moving with the rise and fall of her chest. "Good night, Andrea," I whispered, drifting off to sleep.

It must have been several hours later when I woke from a dream with a jump, also startling Andrea beneath me. "I'm—I'm sorry," I said.

"Hey, it's okay," Andrea whispered, running her hands soothingly up and down my back. "You're shaking—what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I said. "Go back to sleep."

"Please talk to me," Andrea said. "Was it a dream?"

"More like a nightmare. I keep waking up and you're not there," I said.

Andrea pulled away and scooted lower in the bed so I was at eye-level. "Miranda, I am so, so sorry for hurting you. I wish there was something I could to to reassure you, to make everything go away…"

"I know you are, darling, and I'm not upset at you, really. I just—I'm still afraid. I can't lose you—not again. I won't survive it," I said.

She reached up and took my face in her hands, kissing me firmly on the lips. "You won't," she said. "I promise you. Now, what can I do to make you feel better?" she asked.

"Fuck me," I said. I could see Andrea was shocked at the words I just uttered. "I'm serious, Andrea. Remember last week, you told me to let you know the next time I was letting things build up and needed a release?"

Andrea slowly nodded.

"Honey, I need a release soon or I'm going to explode. Please?" I practically begged.

"Okay, just a minute," she said, crawling out of bed and digging for something in her suitcase.

"Where did you go?" I said, sighing. Maybe it was time I learned to masturbate, I thought.

"Sorry. Back," she said, climbing back into bed. "I, uh, picked something up after we had this conversation last week—about the Four Seasons and all. Can we try it?"

My eyes went wide as I examined the huge flesh-colored dildo she held. I felt my muscles clenching in anticipation. That better be for me, I thought.

"So, it's got this harness thing," she said, kneeling next to me as she fumbled to get the dildo through the ring. "I just don't really know how it's supposed to go on," she said, frowning as she held it up.

"Here," I said, securing the straps around her legs and adjusting the belt to fit her waist comfortably. "Ohhh god," I moaned, seeing her on her knees with this glorious appendage at her core.

"So, is this a good look?" she asked with a grin, thrusting her hips softly in my direction.

Without another word, I lunged forward and took her hips in my hands, licking and sucking on the dildo, knowing each movement created friction against her clit. I rose to my knees and pulled her close, the dildo resting against my lower abdomen.

"Fuck me, Andrea," I repeated, watching her eyes darken with desire before I turned around and pressed my hands into the mattress. I felt the tip teasing my dripping my folds, and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. "Please!" I cried impatiently.

I relaxed as I felt her hands at my hips as she carefully lined the appendage up with my folds, slowly entering, allowing my walls sufficient time to expand to accommodate the object's girth.

"Ohh—ho-ho-hooo," I howled as I felt its tip poking against my cervix.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently stroking her hand in circles on my back.

"Mm-hmm. Are you in all the way?" I asked. I was holding my breath, waiting for her to move.

"Yes, is that okay?"

I nodded quickly. "Start moving," I instructed, tilting my hips slightly to alter the angle.

She slowly pulled back—nearly all the way—before thrusting her hips against my ass. At some point, my moans turned to a sort of high-pitched gasp, but it was all I could do to keep it together.

"Harder, faster!" I cried as I felt my walls clenching around the object, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I collapsed against the sheets as Andrea slowly pulled away, my body shivering at the loss of contact.

I rolled onto my back and tugged Andrea on top of me, kissing her passionately. "I do hope you're not finished already," I said, sucking gently on her ear lobe.

"My you are insatiable," she said with a grin. "I'll have you know I'm nowhere near done with you," she said, bending down and taking my nipple in her mouth as she lined up the dildo and slowly pressed into my core.

Nearly an hour later, Andrea discarded the harness on the floor next to her bed and curled up against my body. My heart was still pounding. Andrea reached up and wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead.

"Andrea, that was incredible," I panted, still trying to catch my breath.

"Mmm, it was," she said. Apparently our activities had tired her out, too.

"Whereever did you get that idea?" I asked. We had never once talked about toys, and I for one hadn't used them since I was in my twenties.

"Well, I was going to give it to you to keep at work, if you ever needed release, or, I don't know, if you wanted to have phone sex or something. When I mentioned to the guy at the store that it was for my girlfriend, he insisted I get the harness to go with it," Andrea said. "So, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh, did I," I said, laughing. I suddenly propped myself up on my elbow and turned to her, "Was it okay for you? I mean, what did it feel like?"

"It was incredible," she said. "Really, to be able to bring you to orgasm like that with my hands and lips free was one thing, but it really just felt like it was a part of me."

"So it didn't make you uncomfortable or anything?" I asked. I needed to know she was okay with it.

"No, not at all. If anything, it made me a little more secure because now you'll never feel the need to go find an attractive, wealthy man to satisfy you."

"Darling, what are you talking about?" I asked.

"I have my insecurities, too," she said, rolling to her side and pulling the comforter up to her neck.

"You worry that you're not beautiful enough, that you don't have enough money, and that you can't satisfy me like—like someone like Stephen!? Oh do be serious," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I am serious, Miranda," she said. I realized she was on the verge of tears and I was practically teasing her.

"I'm so sorry, darling," I said, curling up behind her. "You are beautiful, Andrea, and no one else, aside from maybe my daughters and future grandchildren will ever catch my eye like you do." I smiled and pressed a kiss into her shoulder. "As for money, I've already told you that means nothing to me. I have too much of it for my own good. I wish I could teach my girls how much things cost, but when nothing is too expensive for them, it's hard. But as you know, I've earned my money. Just like you are now earning yours."

"Maybe I could help teach the girls about the value of money," Andrea said, turning over and looking up at me. "Would that be okay?"

"I think it's a marvelous idea, darling," I said, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

"And, uh, what about satisfying you?" she asked nervously.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes again. "Andrea, quite frankly you don't satisfy me," I said, pressing her shoulders into the mattress as I hovered over her. "When it comes to you, I am absolutely insatiable. I can never, ever get enough, and I'll take whatever you give me because there will never be anyone else. Do you understand?"

Smiling, she nodded as I pressed my lips to hers.

"You know, I'm a little thirsty after all that screaming before," I said, winking at her as I slid down her body.

"Ohh god, Miranda," she moaned as her hips bucked off of the bed. I softly teased her folds with the tip of my tongue, enjoying watching her writhe with pleasure. "Please, I'm so close," she begged.

I slowly dragged my tongue across her clit and moved upwards just enough to look into her eyes. "Never. Leave me. Again." I said, thrusting my fingers deep within her core as my tongue captured her flowing juices, her passionate screams echoing through the empty room.

I crawled up next to her and rested my head on her shoulder, much like the way we initially fell asleep.

"Andrea," I said after a few minutes, gently rubbing my hand along her arm.

She opened her eyes and moved closer, kissing me softly.

"I love you," I said. "I want to spend the rest of my crazy, unpredictable, complicated life with you."

"I love you too, Miranda."

"Andrea, I'm serious. I still don't know how I feel about marriage—with my track record, plus the press, and the girls. But Andrea, I want you at my side for the rest of my life, whatever it takes. Do…do you accept?"

"Yes," Andrea said, smiling and pressing her lips to mine. "Whatever you're proposing, yes, yes!"

"Oh darling, I love you," I said, hugging her tightly. "I've been meaning to talk to you about this, but there's just been so much going on lately."

"It's okay," she said, "I understand. I kind of agree about marriage. I mean, I love you and I would love nothing more than to be your wife, but as long as I know you're mine and I'm yours, formalities don't matter to me."

"Sweetheart, I promise I'll get you a ring. I just couldn't wait. I had to ask you."

"Maybe we can shop together for our rings, because I definitely want others to know you're off the market," she added with a smile. "Do you think the girls will be okay with the idea of us?"

"I'm certain they will—in fact, I know they already are," I said. "Speaking of the girls, James and I were considering that he would have them every other weekend and two days every two weeks. Does that sound okay with you?"

"I think it's a fair compromise," she said. "Can I still stay here in this apartment for a while?"

I felt my body grow tense. Doesn't she want to move back? "You can do whatever you wish, but I hope you know that you're welcome at the townhouse," I said.

"I know. I'm just not very productive at your house because all I want to do is curl up with you," she said with a little frown.

"I feel the same way," I said with a smile. "Maybe I can come here some nights, or you can join us for dinner or maybe even a sleepover or two?" I asked.

"Well I know Caroline and Cassidy would like that, but I don't know about you," she said.

"Darling, I've said this before. I don't need this sexual intimacy as much as I need your companionship. You just being there with us, curled up on the couch watching a movie is incredibly satisfying for me. I don't want to raise the girls alone anymore. I want you there."

"Oh wait," she said, a wicked smile crossing her lips as she began trailing kisses down my neck. "So, you don't need this?" she asked, taking my left nipple in between her teeth. "Or this?" she asked, circling her fingers over my clit.

"Oh godddd," I moaned, batting her hands away. "Seriously, are you okay with my daughters taking up permanent residence in your life?"

"Yes, I am one hundred percent okay with that," she said with a smile. "Do you think they'll be okay with two overly-affectionate step-grandparents?"

My eyes widened. She hadn't spoken about her parents in a long time. "Of course, they would be delighted," I said, cupping her cheek. "Does this mean you've worked things out with them?"

"More or less," she said, shrugging. "I had no one to talk to yesterday so I called my mom and told her that she needed to stop waiting for me to bring home a husband."

"You didn't—" I said, biting my lower lip. "What did she say?"

"She was confused, so I explained that I simply wasn't attracted to guys, and that the last few years with Nate was like living a lie, not to mention he was occasionally abusive."

"Darling, I'm so sorry about that," I said, pressing my lips to her cheek. "Was your mom upset?"

"Well, I think it sunk in when I told her that I did, in fact find a handsome millionaire, but it wasn't who she was expecting. Naturally she asked more about this person, and I think she was in a little bit of shock when I told her it was a fifty-year-old woman with two preteen children."

"What did she say?"

"She actually surprised me," Andrea said. "I think dealing with my grandpa over the past few months has softened her. I think she realized how little she can actually control in the lives of others. It's like she's just grateful I'm willing to share with her."

"What did she say?" I repeated.

"She asked if I was happy, and I told her I was. She said that she was at least she would still get grandchildren and possibly great-grandchildren out of it," Andrea said with a smile. "I did explain to her that she was getting ahead of herself because we weren't official or anything, and I mean, at the time, I thought I would never see you again."

"Oh darling, I'm so happy for you," I said, wrapping her tightly in my arms. "I know how much your parents meant to you."

"Well, that was just my mom. I haven't really talked to my dad since he filed the divorce papers."

"What?! Sweetie, you didn't tell me this," I said.

"I didn't want to bother you—you had a lot going on this week," she said. "It's okay, though. They were great parents when I was growing up, but they just sort of grew apart and it was a daily struggle to live with one another. I think they're better on their own. Actually, I think it's part of my mom's change of heart, too."

I smiled and kissed her again. "You really are amazing, Andrea," I said.

"Not to change the subject, but can I ask about something you said earlier?" she said.

"Of course—what?"

"You said your children and future grandchildren…does that mean you're not planning to have any more children of your own?" she asked.

"Oh, darling, please don't look into that. I was simply thinking of Caroline and Cassidy growing up so quickly and starting their own families. Why, do you want children? I mean, aside from the two devils that come with this package?"

"You answer first," she said.

"Well that's not fair," I said. "Then you'll just say whatever I say because you like to agree with me."

Andrea stuck her tongue out at me. "Okay, how about we each write down our answer then show it to each other at the same time?" she suggested.

"Is this a game show? Really, Andrea, where do you suggest we get paper?"

"Uh, here," she said, handing me my Blackberry and picking up her own phone. "Type it in a text message to me and I'll type it to you. We can hit 'send' at the same time."

"Okay, okay," I said. Part of me was nervous to see what she would say. "So how is the question worded again?" I asked.

"Do you want any more children?" she replied.

I nodded and typed out a quite lengthy response, as did she. Apparently we both felt the need to qualify our answers. "Okay?" I asked. "Can we send?"

"Go," she said.

I anxiously waited to see her response, hoping mine would not disappoint her. I gasped as I saw her text flash across the screen: "No I do not. You and the girls are all I need. I want to spend the next twenty years loving you, traveling with you, having sex in the middle of the day with you…without a toddler interrupting."

I bit my lower lip and grinned as I reread her message. Andrea Elizabeth Sachs continues to amaze me day after day, I thought.

"Miranda, I don't think you're too old for another child," Andrea said quietly.

"Andrea, be serious. If the child were born this year, I would be seventy-three at his or her college graduation," I said. "But this sex in the afternoon thing…that I am most definitely not too old for," I said with a smile.

"God, I love you so much," Andrea said, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

"I love you, too, Andrea," I said. "Do you think we can take a little nap?" I asked. "We actually didn't get much sleep during the night."

"True," she said. "I think we were both a little too emotional for sleep last night, but now I'm right where I belong," she said, squeezing me close.

"Yes, at my side," I murmured. "Good night, Andrea."

"Mmm, love you, Miranda."

"Love you, too, darling."

the end.

A/N1: To those of you who responded to the last chapter (thx!), did you seriously think I would take you through 95K+ words of Mirandy angst, only to leave Miranda loveless and alone? Tsk, tsk. You should know me better than that. I hope you enjoyed :)

A/N2: Thank you to all who've read and reviewed this story in whole or in part—the kudos and feedback are much appreciated. As of right now, this story is officially complete, though at some point in the distant future I may decide to add a Part Six to deal with Nigel/Doug, Miranda's brother Richard, life with teenagers, etc. Or maybe I'll just leave that up to your imaginations... xo