Hi! I'm back with another chapter. It's slightly longer and kind of a turning point. I'm contemplating the direction of this piece and the ending. It could either end in one chapter and be more of a bittersweet piece… or it could last a little longer and have a happy ending… I'm fine with both.. but leave a review to let me know what you think!

Other than that, thanks again for everything, I love you all :)

The cozy apartment was filled with an amiable crowd, each with a drink in their hand and talking in polite voices. Andy drifted amongst her colleagues and friends as they congratulated her on her recent award-winning article on the topic of foreign policy in Nigeria. 'It was a splendid journey, yet informative and alarming!' wrote one of the critics of New York Times. Andy's rise to fame was rather swift; just a year after she quit Runway and left Miranda, she has already established a name for herself.

She'd like to think that she was happier than ever. She has a great friend, boyfriend, whatever Brad is. They never bothered working it out or putting a label on it. Perhaps because they really can't. She couldn't help but notice him trying though. He's asked her a few times where this is going, and she had done a good job to distract him with one thing or another. She didn't have an answer for him, at least not yet.

Andy liked her job. She needed it as a distraction. It was her rebound after Miranda fucking Priestly. She's almost thankful that something, ANYTHING, occupied her brain instead of Miranda. The relationship with Brad was one thing, but her job, her job, her job. It has helped her conscious efforts to not remember anything before and during Paris.

Sometimes, though, it still comes back to haunt her. Once in a while, she'll dream about that night with Miranda. Waking up in sweats, she'd hug Brad tighter than before, and he'd have no clue why. Or at least she doesn't think he does. Some nights when she look out at the window, she'd feel this pang of depression. As if she was wasting her life somehow. As if she should fight a little harder for Miranda. But that's all nonsense, she knows that. In fact, she's stopped keeping track of Miranda. When others talk about the 'ice queen', she walks away and desperately tries to think about something more urgent so she could forget as soon as possible. Life goes on. That was one thing that Andy truly believed in.

"Hey, baby."

Snapping out of her moment, Andy realized that she has been standing at the window by the kitchen and staring into the city lights.

Brad put his arms around her waist.

It feels so safe. Maybe this is what I really want. Maybe this is it.

"What's wrong?"

He whispered against her neck as he nibbled, leaving a trail of kisses.

Andy couldn't help but moan a little. He knew what he was doing; he knew she loved it.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about how far I've gone in a year."

"Mhm. You were a mess after Paris. I still blame her."

Andy pushed a weight down her throat. She flinches a little whenever Brad talks about Miranda. It just doesn't feel right.
Running his hands through her hair, he didn't stop talking.

"Sometimes I wish we met before you met her. You wouldn't be so broken. And…"

He paused abruptly, as if he had touched a sensitive subject.

He did, Andy thought. And he can't just stop now.

"And?"

"I know you haven't forgotten about her."

Andy felt the danger of tears escaping, so she closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying hard not to just break down and burst out of the room.

"I know, because when you hug me randomly at night, sometimes you whisper her name. I know, because when we drive past the Elias Clark building, you try your very hardest not to glance. I know, because whenever someone mentions Miranda Priestly, you look hurt. She messed you up."

That was too much. Andy simply couldn't take it anymore. She turned, escaped from his arms and darted for the door.
"Hey," He said, grabbing her wrist a little too forcefully, as if trying to make a point.

"But it's okay. Because I can make it right again. I can fix this. I can… I can fix you. Just give me a little more time. We will be okay. You will be okay. And this," He fluttered his hands between them, "this could really turn into something."

Turning to look at him, Andy saw honesty, and genuine concern, and even love in his eyes. It would be so easy for her to just believe him. It would be so easy for her to just let go of everything and run away with him. So she took a step into his arms and cried in his embrace.

Perhaps this is how it should be. Andy thought.

Life goes on, right?