Fic: Doused - 7th in Embers Drive Series
Title: Doused - 7th in Embers Drive series
Author: Eveh
Pairing: Emily/Andrea, Miranda/Andrea, Emily/Other
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I don't own The Devil Wears Prada.
A/N: This is the seventh part of the series Embers Drive. I have been reading your requests and am delivering. Better late than never, I say. The previous parts can be found Here. Thank you for reading and for all of the wonderful comments. I've got to see what else my muse can kick up.
Doused
“I have never asked you for your fidelity, Andrea, only for your loyalty.” Tears were streaking down her wife’s cheeks, and Miranda did not hesitate in reaching out and wiping them away. “And you have given me that.”
“How?” Andrea choked on the word, barely able to speak now that she had confessed to Miranda the one thing Miranda honestly had no desire to discuss, but Andrea had insisted. She had guided Miranda to her office, locked the door, and then had confessed to carrying on an affair. She hadn’t named names, but Miranda didn’t need to be given a name to know who the other woman was.
“How could I not?” Miranda’s hands cupped Andrea’s face. “For the last six years you have been by my side through everything. You have helped me raise Caroline and Cassidy. You have stayed when others have left.”
“But I,” Andrea tried to interrupt but Miranda immediately silenced her by placing two fingers against Andrea’s lips.
“You are a wild thing, Andrea,” Miranda further explained, “and I have never wished to cage you.”
Andrea didn’t understand, but Miranda didn’t expect her to. Andrea had always been just a little bit too self-involved to notice the world outside of her own narrow view. Miranda had accepted that from the very beginning. She knew that Andrea had a deep desire to ingest the world and all the wonders in it. She was driven more often by passion than sense and Miranda suspected that Andrea was just now growing up and into the consequences of choosing a life where taking wild leaps into the unknown was the norm.
Age had tempered Miranda's own wanderlust, but it had never been completely doused. She had found ways to unleash it that didn’t include extended love affairs and intricate plotlines. She had matured past these moments of fruitless confession. But Andrea obviously had not.
“I don't understand,” Andrea's eyes mimicked the confusion heard in her voice.
Miranda had long ago learned that she could not explain anything to Andrea by uttering the simple word, 'youth'. Andrea never accepted that explanation; she was always so adamant that age had nothing to do with it when really it was more often than not the answer to so many of her questions.
“You don't need to understand.” There was no need for explanations. “You are my wife, and I know that you love me.” The fact that she knew Andrea's love was also given to someone else she allowed to remain unsaid.
“I do love you.” Andrea spoke of her feelings like she still didn't understand them. She couldn't quite comprehend her love, couldn't explain it. Miranda didn't need an explanation, though. She understood Andrea's love. She understood that Andrea's lover filled the empty spaces of passion that she herself could not fill for Andrea.
Love could not just be two people stumbling around in a pheromone induced bliss. If that was enough, then Andrea would have chosen to reveal her secret years ago and Emily wouldn't have chosen to marry. Miranda suspected, however, that neither of them understood this because they had never taken the chance to see if their love could mature.
Tears fell anew from Andrea's big brown eyes. “I can't stay,” she whispered.
“Do what you must.” Miranda's body stiffened. “But do keep in mind that there is no going back from this. To an extent, I may have understood your behavior, but walking away from our marriage is a whole different matter entirely.”
“I don't know what else to do,” Andrea confessed.
“Neither do I, Andrea.” The words were the first appearance of Miranda's emotion. She had not set out to prove that Andrea's affair left her unaffected, but she refused to yell and scream about something that she had maintained her silence about for longer than even she wanted to admit.
Things were easier if done this way.
“I should leave.” Andrea made as if to stand up, but Miranda's hand held her back.
“May I ask,” Miranda slid her hand away from Andrea's thigh, “what you expect to happen after you leave?”
“...I don't know,” Andrea honestly confessed. “I never even thought I'd get to this moment.”
“Yes,” Miranda chuckled. “We always dream of moments we never actually want to live in.” She straightened her clothes though they were not in need of it. She was in a robe. “Andrea,” Miranda whispered, “I suspect it will do no good to tell you this, but the love you have with Emily will burn out.”
Andrea's mouth dropped open. “How did you know...?”
Miranda raised her hand silencing Andrea's question. “Let's not get into that. There is no point.”
Andrea nodded. “Fair enough.”
Maturity, Miranda noted, seemed to finally be making an appearance. She nodded as well, glad that finally something had been settled. She already knew she would be walking away from this conversation uncertain if her wife would be leaving her, but she could not know nor could she control everything. Life had insisted on winning that particular ongoing battle.
“Now,” she swallowed, “if you recall, I was terribly in love with the girls' father.” She looked into her wife's brown eyes completely unrepentant for what she was going to say. “It would even be fair to say that he was, is the love of my life.” Andrea flinched and Miranda was happy for it. “Ours was the everlasting love, but that kind of love doesn't sustain itself. It is the phoenix that continues to die in the flame yet insists on being reborn so that it may die again in the same flame that killed it before.”
Andrea opened her mouth to respond but Miranda spoke again before any argument could be made. “You and Emily are no different. If you had been, then your love would have survived past the fucking.”
Another flinch and another small victory Miranda could be proud of when she looked back on this moment and tried to prove to herself that she had not been broken, had not yielded her power to someone who could so easily take her heart and forget what it meant to hold it.
“Are you seriously offering me relationship advice?” Andrea closed her eyes and then dropped her head down into hands that looked barely capable of holding the weight.
“Hmm,” Miranda stood. “That's one way of looking at it.” She leaned over, placed a soft kiss on her wife's forehead and then left. She walked directly to the bedroom and after she stepped inside she softly closed and locked the door. She was uncertain whether Andrea would choose to follow her, but she hoped that her wife would give her the courtesy of space.
Miranda let the door hold her up for a moment. She took one deep breath and then another. Her hands slid down her wooden anchor and eventually she found enough strength to stand on her own. Her eyes scoured the room, noticing each and every one of Andrea's things. She tried to imagine what it would be like if all those things suddenly disappeared. She wondered if the space would really be that much different without Andrea's presence.
An irritating buzzing tore her away from her aimless wondering and her attention turned to Andrea's jacket hanging over the edge of their bed. Miranda went towards the sound and then rummaged through the pockets until she produced Andrea's phone. She looked at the screen not needing to know who would be bold enough to contact Andrea this late.
She chose to answer it not yet sure if she was trying to inflict more torture onto herself or wanted to mete it out. “Hello.”
“M-Miranda?” Emily sounded surprised, but Miranda had expected at least that.
“I'm afraid Andrea isn't currently available, Emily. She's downstairs trying to decide whether or not she wants to leave me for you.”
Silence. But what response would be good enough?
“I can tell her that you called,” Miranda offered, knowing she shouldn't have answered the phone. This wasn't torture, it was mutually assured destruction.
Still silence. Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure that the call was still connected. It was.
“I'm sorry, Miranda.” Emily finally spoke, her voice no longer steady.
“No,” Miranda humorlessly chuckled, “I'm not quite sure that you are. The fact that we are now having this discussion means that you are gaining something that I have lost.”
“But,” Emily cleared her throat obviously pushing away the emotion that was trying to escape, “she hasn't left yet, has she?”
“Oh Emily, she left a long time ago,” Miranda confessed. “To act as if that wasn't the case would be...” She didn't have the words anymore. “I'll tell her you called.” She ended the call and then threw the phone onto the bed. She wanted to throw it against the wall, wanted to lash out but she couldn't find the energy to break something she would have to have fixed later.
She walked back to the bedroom door and then unlocked it. If Andrea ever decided to leave the office then she would need her phone and would need clothes. It wouldn't be practical to h ave Andrea running around New York city in a robe.
Miranda once again looked at Andrea's belongings littering their bedroom and realized that she loved Andrea too much to be petty. It wasn't worth it. There wasn't enough anger or pettiness in the world to cure her of the ball of pain that was beginning to multiply inside of her.
Her legs gave out and she fell to the floor. She didn't bother to try and catch herself. She let herself entire body fall and let her legs tangle underneath her. She grabbed onto the edges of her robe and bunched the material in her fists not yet ready to give into her weakness. She promised herself that when this day came that she would be prepared for it. She wouldn't crumble. She refused to crumble.
Unfortunately, her brain had made the promise but her heart hadn't gotten the memo. Tears began to streak down her face and there could be no stopping them.
The bedroom door opened and closed, but Miranda didn't bother to look up. She wouldn't. She would not watch Andrea gather her phone and change her clothes so that she could run off to Emily and attempt a new happily ever after.
Strong arms encircled her and she resisted being pulled into them. Andrea wasn't allowed to comfort her when she was also breaking her apart.
“I'm sorry,” Andrea whispered as she laid her head against Miranda's back. “I'm so sorry.”
Miranda felt warm tears pressing through the thin barrier of her robe. She laughed knowing that they must both look like the fools they were. Both of them wild things that had been caged without consent. Both of them in love just not completely satisfied. Both of them broken with only each other to lean on.
Fools. Hopeless, fools.
Author: Eveh
Pairing: Emily/Andrea, Miranda/Andrea, Emily/Other
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I don't own The Devil Wears Prada.
A/N: This is the seventh part of the series Embers Drive. I have been reading your requests and am delivering. Better late than never, I say. The previous parts can be found Here. Thank you for reading and for all of the wonderful comments. I've got to see what else my muse can kick up.
Doused
“I have never asked you for your fidelity, Andrea, only for your loyalty.” Tears were streaking down her wife’s cheeks, and Miranda did not hesitate in reaching out and wiping them away. “And you have given me that.”
“How?” Andrea choked on the word, barely able to speak now that she had confessed to Miranda the one thing Miranda honestly had no desire to discuss, but Andrea had insisted. She had guided Miranda to her office, locked the door, and then had confessed to carrying on an affair. She hadn’t named names, but Miranda didn’t need to be given a name to know who the other woman was.
“How could I not?” Miranda’s hands cupped Andrea’s face. “For the last six years you have been by my side through everything. You have helped me raise Caroline and Cassidy. You have stayed when others have left.”
“But I,” Andrea tried to interrupt but Miranda immediately silenced her by placing two fingers against Andrea’s lips.
“You are a wild thing, Andrea,” Miranda further explained, “and I have never wished to cage you.”
Andrea didn’t understand, but Miranda didn’t expect her to. Andrea had always been just a little bit too self-involved to notice the world outside of her own narrow view. Miranda had accepted that from the very beginning. She knew that Andrea had a deep desire to ingest the world and all the wonders in it. She was driven more often by passion than sense and Miranda suspected that Andrea was just now growing up and into the consequences of choosing a life where taking wild leaps into the unknown was the norm.
Age had tempered Miranda's own wanderlust, but it had never been completely doused. She had found ways to unleash it that didn’t include extended love affairs and intricate plotlines. She had matured past these moments of fruitless confession. But Andrea obviously had not.
“I don't understand,” Andrea's eyes mimicked the confusion heard in her voice.
Miranda had long ago learned that she could not explain anything to Andrea by uttering the simple word, 'youth'. Andrea never accepted that explanation; she was always so adamant that age had nothing to do with it when really it was more often than not the answer to so many of her questions.
“You don't need to understand.” There was no need for explanations. “You are my wife, and I know that you love me.” The fact that she knew Andrea's love was also given to someone else she allowed to remain unsaid.
“I do love you.” Andrea spoke of her feelings like she still didn't understand them. She couldn't quite comprehend her love, couldn't explain it. Miranda didn't need an explanation, though. She understood Andrea's love. She understood that Andrea's lover filled the empty spaces of passion that she herself could not fill for Andrea.
Love could not just be two people stumbling around in a pheromone induced bliss. If that was enough, then Andrea would have chosen to reveal her secret years ago and Emily wouldn't have chosen to marry. Miranda suspected, however, that neither of them understood this because they had never taken the chance to see if their love could mature.
Tears fell anew from Andrea's big brown eyes. “I can't stay,” she whispered.
“Do what you must.” Miranda's body stiffened. “But do keep in mind that there is no going back from this. To an extent, I may have understood your behavior, but walking away from our marriage is a whole different matter entirely.”
“I don't know what else to do,” Andrea confessed.
“Neither do I, Andrea.” The words were the first appearance of Miranda's emotion. She had not set out to prove that Andrea's affair left her unaffected, but she refused to yell and scream about something that she had maintained her silence about for longer than even she wanted to admit.
Things were easier if done this way.
“I should leave.” Andrea made as if to stand up, but Miranda's hand held her back.
“May I ask,” Miranda slid her hand away from Andrea's thigh, “what you expect to happen after you leave?”
“...I don't know,” Andrea honestly confessed. “I never even thought I'd get to this moment.”
“Yes,” Miranda chuckled. “We always dream of moments we never actually want to live in.” She straightened her clothes though they were not in need of it. She was in a robe. “Andrea,” Miranda whispered, “I suspect it will do no good to tell you this, but the love you have with Emily will burn out.”
Andrea's mouth dropped open. “How did you know...?”
Miranda raised her hand silencing Andrea's question. “Let's not get into that. There is no point.”
Andrea nodded. “Fair enough.”
Maturity, Miranda noted, seemed to finally be making an appearance. She nodded as well, glad that finally something had been settled. She already knew she would be walking away from this conversation uncertain if her wife would be leaving her, but she could not know nor could she control everything. Life had insisted on winning that particular ongoing battle.
“Now,” she swallowed, “if you recall, I was terribly in love with the girls' father.” She looked into her wife's brown eyes completely unrepentant for what she was going to say. “It would even be fair to say that he was, is the love of my life.” Andrea flinched and Miranda was happy for it. “Ours was the everlasting love, but that kind of love doesn't sustain itself. It is the phoenix that continues to die in the flame yet insists on being reborn so that it may die again in the same flame that killed it before.”
Andrea opened her mouth to respond but Miranda spoke again before any argument could be made. “You and Emily are no different. If you had been, then your love would have survived past the fucking.”
Another flinch and another small victory Miranda could be proud of when she looked back on this moment and tried to prove to herself that she had not been broken, had not yielded her power to someone who could so easily take her heart and forget what it meant to hold it.
“Are you seriously offering me relationship advice?” Andrea closed her eyes and then dropped her head down into hands that looked barely capable of holding the weight.
“Hmm,” Miranda stood. “That's one way of looking at it.” She leaned over, placed a soft kiss on her wife's forehead and then left. She walked directly to the bedroom and after she stepped inside she softly closed and locked the door. She was uncertain whether Andrea would choose to follow her, but she hoped that her wife would give her the courtesy of space.
Miranda let the door hold her up for a moment. She took one deep breath and then another. Her hands slid down her wooden anchor and eventually she found enough strength to stand on her own. Her eyes scoured the room, noticing each and every one of Andrea's things. She tried to imagine what it would be like if all those things suddenly disappeared. She wondered if the space would really be that much different without Andrea's presence.
An irritating buzzing tore her away from her aimless wondering and her attention turned to Andrea's jacket hanging over the edge of their bed. Miranda went towards the sound and then rummaged through the pockets until she produced Andrea's phone. She looked at the screen not needing to know who would be bold enough to contact Andrea this late.
She chose to answer it not yet sure if she was trying to inflict more torture onto herself or wanted to mete it out. “Hello.”
“M-Miranda?” Emily sounded surprised, but Miranda had expected at least that.
“I'm afraid Andrea isn't currently available, Emily. She's downstairs trying to decide whether or not she wants to leave me for you.”
Silence. But what response would be good enough?
“I can tell her that you called,” Miranda offered, knowing she shouldn't have answered the phone. This wasn't torture, it was mutually assured destruction.
Still silence. Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure that the call was still connected. It was.
“I'm sorry, Miranda.” Emily finally spoke, her voice no longer steady.
“No,” Miranda humorlessly chuckled, “I'm not quite sure that you are. The fact that we are now having this discussion means that you are gaining something that I have lost.”
“But,” Emily cleared her throat obviously pushing away the emotion that was trying to escape, “she hasn't left yet, has she?”
“Oh Emily, she left a long time ago,” Miranda confessed. “To act as if that wasn't the case would be...” She didn't have the words anymore. “I'll tell her you called.” She ended the call and then threw the phone onto the bed. She wanted to throw it against the wall, wanted to lash out but she couldn't find the energy to break something she would have to have fixed later.
She walked back to the bedroom door and then unlocked it. If Andrea ever decided to leave the office then she would need her phone and would need clothes. It wouldn't be practical to h ave Andrea running around New York city in a robe.
Miranda once again looked at Andrea's belongings littering their bedroom and realized that she loved Andrea too much to be petty. It wasn't worth it. There wasn't enough anger or pettiness in the world to cure her of the ball of pain that was beginning to multiply inside of her.
Her legs gave out and she fell to the floor. She didn't bother to try and catch herself. She let herself entire body fall and let her legs tangle underneath her. She grabbed onto the edges of her robe and bunched the material in her fists not yet ready to give into her weakness. She promised herself that when this day came that she would be prepared for it. She wouldn't crumble. She refused to crumble.
Unfortunately, her brain had made the promise but her heart hadn't gotten the memo. Tears began to streak down her face and there could be no stopping them.
The bedroom door opened and closed, but Miranda didn't bother to look up. She wouldn't. She would not watch Andrea gather her phone and change her clothes so that she could run off to Emily and attempt a new happily ever after.
Strong arms encircled her and she resisted being pulled into them. Andrea wasn't allowed to comfort her when she was also breaking her apart.
“I'm sorry,” Andrea whispered as she laid her head against Miranda's back. “I'm so sorry.”
Miranda felt warm tears pressing through the thin barrier of her robe. She laughed knowing that they must both look like the fools they were. Both of them wild things that had been caged without consent. Both of them in love just not completely satisfied. Both of them broken with only each other to lean on.
Fools. Hopeless, fools.