I am awoken once again this morning by the door being opened and the girls cautiously stepping inside. Without saying a word, Andrea moves back from me to create space for them and pulls back the covers.

"Come on, munchkins," she invites sleepily.

They don't hesitate and move up the bed, crawling in between us, making themselves at home. Only Andrea goes back to sleep though, the girls and I are seemingly content to just bask in her presence whilst she slumbers on.

Eventually, she wakes up, and stretches, groaning slightly.

"Are you ok, Andy?" Caroline asks, looking at Andrea with concern.

"My muscles are stiff and sore after yesterday. Don't tell me yours aren't?" she asks them incredulously, turning to face them properly.

The girls giggle and shake their heads.

"That's cos we're not old," Cassidy teases, grinning at the pout on Andrea's face. She looks adorable when she does that and I just want to bury myself into her arms, but mornings are now apparently monopolized by our children.

Our children? I wonder when I started to think of them that way? It's far too soon to have that conversation, I know, but she has already stepped so effortlessly into place as a secondary caregiver for them. I hope that one day she will feel comfortable officially becoming a second parent for them.

I wonder if she will consider being my wife one day, and an official stepmother to the girls? I know that she loves them, enough to care about their futures, if Gayle is to be believed. Andrea has left them all of her wealth and property in her will. Surely that means something? I want to ask her about it, but I know I should leave it until she is ready. As useful as Gayle has been, she has revealed a lot about Andrea, that she wasn't ready to tell me.

I realise I have become lost in my thoughts again when I notice three quizzical pairs of eyes staring in my direction.

"Right, girls, up you get. Please have a shower, and then start packing your bags. We will be along to help you shortly," I command them gently.

"Do we have to go back home today?" Caroline asks with what I assume is an attempt to imitate the pout that Andrea had been sporting a few minutes ago.

I try not to laugh at her attempt, because in truth she does look very sweet, and it amuses me just how much they both want to model themselves on Andrea. They do say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.

"We do, girls, you have school again next week," I remind them.

"But Andy will live with us, right?" Cassidy sits up and looks at me seriously.

I am at a loss to know what to say. I would love it if Andrea would agree to move into the townhouse with us, but I know it is too soon. We have talked and grown so much closer during our time away, but Andrea still has her apartment and her own life in New York, much as it saddens me to think of not sleeping in her arms.

Andrea is looking at me and I realise that she has been waiting for me to answer. The smile that was on her face fades slightly, and I see something that looks far too much like disappointment crossing her face.

She turns to Caroline and Cassidy and answers quietly, "I have a place to live, girls," she explains, "let's get ready now."

Without a further word, she gets up out of the bed, heading into the bathroom. She quietly closes the door behind her and I am left with the distinct impression that I have misstepped. What had she wanted me to say? I listen and realise that she has started the shower, so I decide to get on with the day to save time.

"Off you go, girls," I shoo them from the bed, and slide out from under the covers. This was originally the room that I unpacked my case in, but now it is a mix of both mine and Andrea's belongings. I quickly make the bed, and then I choose an outfit suitable for the journey home and start packing the rest into the suitcase. I make a pile of Andrea's things on the bed, and then sit and wait for her to be finished in the bathroom.

She comes out in a towel, and smiles weakly at me, "I'm just going to go and get dressed and pack my case," she tells me already half out of the bedroom door.

"Your clothes are here," I gesture to the pile on the bed.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," and she picks up the bundle I have folded for her and darts out the door, leaving me to wonder how I can resolve this sudden awkwardness between us.

I decide it is best to give her some space and hope she will be open to discussing whatever it is that has made her put this distance between us. The bathroom is still warm from her shower, so I strip off my clothes and turn the shower on. I don't dawdle, because we don't have much time before we need to leave. I need at least one cup of coffee in my system before I can even contemplate getting into the car.

By the time I get to the kitchen, the girls are sitting at the table with waffles and fruit on their plates. Andrea comes to meet me by the table, and after kissing my cheek, pulls the chair out for me to sit down.

This side of a relationship is new to me. I know that my reticence to speak earlier has upset her, though I am unsure of her reasons for being so. She doesn't withhold affection from me though and treats me with the same level of care. She makes me feel as though I am precious.

"This looks lovely, darling," I compliment her, as she serves me a fresh waffle that has just finished cooking. She leans over and presses her lips against my temple with a small sigh that sounds like happiness though I can't be sure.

"You're welcome," she replies, pulling away to complete her breakfast.

The atmosphere at the table is more subdued than it has been but I don't think it is directly linked to myself and Andrea. I know that the girls are unhappy about going home so soon, and they don't want to be apart from Andrea.

I am not sure how to sleep without her now so I know that this first night, once we're home, is going to be so difficult for all of us. I will admit to some trepidation stepping back into a world where I no longer feel like I belong. I don't want to read what Page Six has written in my absence and I don't want to deal with the judgement of the many people, who have been waiting for the fall of the Ice Queen.

"It's going to be different," Andrea starts talking, "but it's going to be ok. We'll go home, and then we'll start building a new life together. All of us." She aims this last part to the girls, who look hopeful at her words.

"We'll still see you, right, Andy?" Caroline asks in barely more than a whisper.

"All the time," she confirms with a smile in their direction.

"Ok," Caroline replies, and the mood at the table has lightened significantly.

Breakfast is finished, and Andrea takes charge of clearing the kitchen, after sending the girls to get their cases and double-check their room.

"Should we strip the beds?" I ask, wanting to be helpful if I can.

"Nah, it's ok. Gayle employs someone to help her at the lodge and sends them over to clean for me. She just invoices me for the time that they are here."

"Is there anything else that I can do to help?"

"Yeah, you can come here," she leans back against the counter and opens her arms. I almost skip across the kitchen, so willing I am, to be in my favourite place. She closes her arms around me and pulls me in tight, kissing me slowly.

A noise comes out of her that sounds much like a growl, and she spins us around so that I am now the one against the counter and she kisses me harder, teasing me with her tongue as her hands run over my back, caressing every piece of skin that she can find.

I pull away, and we are both breathing heavily, but her eyes are much brighter than they were before.

"I'm going to miss being in your bed tonight," she whispers, "the next time I have you to myself, I am going to make love to you all night long."

"Andrea, you don't have to sleep alone tonight. You can come to the townhouse," I offer, belatedly, I know.

She looks at me sheepishly, "I can't, I'm sorry. I have some things to sort out when I get back. Doug is expecting me. I called him earlier to tell him I would be home."

Doug, her male friend, is waiting for her?

"Why on earth would he be doing that?" I ask, far more snappily than I intend.

"He, um, he's kind of living with me. Just for the moment."

"I see," I tell her, but I don't. I know he was going to be there to take delivery of our spare suitcases and garment bags from Paris, but at no point has she mentioned that she lives with someone. A good looking, young, successful man, at that. Suddenly I am burning with jealousy, and I step back out of her arms, practically shoving her away from me.

"Well, of course, you should go home then, if Doug is waiting to spend time with you. I should have known better than to trust you, they always leave in the end," I sneer, my voice pure venom.

This is not 'her' Miranda talking, but Runway's Miranda and I hate how I sound. I am shocked at the ice in my tone, and even more surprised I have directed this at her. It is a long time since I have spoken to her this way.

Andrea's face falls at my tone, and I can see her eyes starting to well with tears, "it's not like that, Miranda," she tries to explain, reaching for me, but I slap her hand away from me and walk out of the kitchen without looking back. I stalk off to my room to go and make sure I have everything packed.

I am seething, but now it is because of my actions and not because of this 'Doug', that I used to hear her talk about so much with Emily. Old habits die hard and I was unable to stop my insecurities from getting the better of me. I know I need to apologise to her for my reaction, but I can't bring myself to walk back into the kitchen to see the disappointment that I am sure I will find on her face.

I gather up the last of my belongings and throw them rather petulantly into my case. I zip it shut, put on my jacket and then sit on the bed. I need to get my emotions under control before I go back out there. I concentrate on taking a few deep breaths and to my surprise, it helps.

I don't know how long I am sitting there for, but eventually, Cassidy comes to find me, and I find myself feeling fearful that it wasn't Andrea. Realistically I know that she is probably trying to give me space, but what if I have already managed to push her away? She would not be the first person that has left me. It wouldn't be the first time she has tried to walk away from me.

I follow Cassidy into the kitchen with my case, and Andrea is there waiting for me. She sends me a brief smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. I want to close the gap between us and pull her into my arms, but I can't bring my feet to make the steps. Embarrassed, I look away from her, and stare at my own feet.

"Everybody ready?" Andrea asks the room but the question is directed to the girls, I know.

"Yes, Andy," they chorus, with a roll of their eyes.

"Ready?" she asks me softly.

"Let's go," I reply coldly, wondering why on earth I can't just talk like a normal person, because my short answer makes Andrea recoil slightly. She pulls her shoulders back and seems to shake it off, and opens the door for the girls to step outside, reminding them to be careful of any ice.

I move to follow them out, but Andrea stops me at the door.

"I'm not sure what I've done to upset you, sweetheart, and I'm willing to give you space, but please don't push me away. Communication, remember?" She not so subtly reminds me of our conversation a couple of nights ago, and I feel the heaviness of guilt settle in my stomach. I can't quite lift my eyes to meet hers under the weight of my shame, but she misreads my inability to look at her and steps back with a small sigh.

"I love you, Miranda," she says quietly, as she ushers me past. She steps out after me and closes the door, nestling the key back under the rock in the plant pot and then walks to the car ahead of me.

"Let me put the bigger cases in first," she directs the girls, who have their bags in their arms ready to help put them into the trunk.

She lifts her case in, and then carefully takes mine from me and lays it gently on top, before instructing the girls where their bags need to be put. The girls open the back doors of the car and clamber in. Despite my appalling behaviour, Andrea walks around to the passenger side and opens the door for me, bowing slightly with a smile.

"My lady," she jokes as I slide into the seat, and I want to cry at her sweetness even when faced with my flaws.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, not wanting the girls to hear me.

"It's ok, but we're going to talk about this, ok?" she tells me in a sterner tone.

I nod, and she closes the door, jogging round to the other side and getting in. She immediately leans over and kisses my cheek, before starting up the engine and pulling carefully out of the driveway.

The journey to the airport is easy enough once we get back out onto the main roads, where they have been fully cleared of snow. Once again I realise that Andrea has made all of the arrangements for our flights, and paid for them without consulting me. However, I don't want to make our current situation any worse so I just thank her for the tickets.

The flight home is much quicker than our flight from Paris and I spend the entire journey deep in thought, comparing my life before Paris, to now. My circumstances could not be more different to those in which I left New York or even when we fled Paris.

I don't have the same glow of happiness that I have had the last few days, but I know that this is not down to Andrea, but myself. I know that I need to be the one that makes it right again, for she has been patiently trying to make things better between us all morning.

We reach New York, where a car and driver is waiting for us and I am once again astounded by her efficiency. We have a quick dinner at an Italian restaurant that Andrea knows of near the airport, and to my relief, she doesn't question it when I ask for the bill and use my credit card to pay. Instead, she graciously thanks me for the meal.

We drive to the Upper East Side, and I realise this must be a long way out of her way.

"You don't have to drive us home first," I tell her. She is sitting next to me and I place my fingers on her thigh. She takes my hand and I can see that she is glad that I have initiated contact with her. I know I have been quiet on the journey home. Too quiet, really, and it has allowed this distance between us to grow.

"It's ok, I only live around the corner from you, anyway," she tells me with a tiny shrug.

"You live on the Upper East Side?"

"Yeah. I moved out of my old apartment last year and bought a penthouse. It's only a few blocks away from you," she admits, as I wonder how I have failed to notice this.

The driver pulls up in front of the townhouse, and gets out to open the doors. He removes the cases from the trunk, and Andrea instructs him to wait for her. She then carries my case for me, as I walk up to the front door and open it. I know it is heavy, but she effortlessly carries it up the front steps.

"Where is your room?" she asks me, looking around. For all the time that she has spent here with the twins, she has never once been inside my bedroom. I grimace slightly when I have to tell her that it is on the fourth floor at the end of the hall.

"Come on Cassidy, Caroline, bring your bags upstairs so you can sort your laundry," she instructs them. I almost want to laugh at their shocked faces that they are being asked to take responsibility for their unpacking, but they do it without question and head upstairs.

"Wait for me? I'll be back down in a second," she tells me before trotting up the stairs carrying my case.

I wait for her, sitting on the chesterfield sofa that is located in the foyer. I don't want her to leave and I don't want to spend the night alone. I desperately don't want there to be this awkwardness between us. I am going to miss her so much tonight, and I feel the familiar lump in my throat as I realise I am about to say goodnight, not knowing when I will see her again.

Why didn't I just tell her that I wanted her to move in when the girls questioned us earlier? If I had been more clear, or spoken at all, then maybe she wouldn't be staying away tonight. Maybe she would be staying here with me rather than going home to her friend Doug.

The footsteps padding back down the stairs alerts me to her return.

"I've said goodbye to the girls." She looks sad as she says this, her eyes suddenly glassy as she continues, "I'm going to miss you all."

This is my moment. This is the moment where I know I should ask her to stay again. Her expression looks strangely hopeful as if she is waiting for me to ask again. I feel so awkward after the way that I have acted today, that once again I find I cannot speak the words that I need to. Instead, I throw myself into her arms and pull her close, revelling in her strength as they wrap around me securely.

"We will miss you too," I hear myself tell her, which is the opposite of what I want to say to her. Why do I suddenly have an inability to say what I need to?

"I better go." She reluctantly pulls away, and leans forwards to kiss me chastely, "I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I love you too," I choke out, and for a moment she looks at me curiously, and I wonder if she understands what I want to say? She turns then though, and with one last wave, she slips out the door and into the cold winter air.

The moment the door has closed behind her, I feel a sob break free. I stumble to the sofa and perch on the edge with my face in my hands and let myself cry. I have made a grievous mistake today, and now I have missed my opportunity to put it right.