Two Sides of Us

Chapter 4. Andrew

I stood in my kitchen, the rhythmic chop of the knife against the cutting board grounding me after a long day. The scent of stir-fry filled the air as I tossed the chopped vegetables into the sizzling pan. Cooking had become my refuge, a way to unwind after the chaos of the office. Baxter, my Border Collie, lay sprawled on the cool tile near his water dish, still panting lightly from our run. At least one of us was completely at ease.

My thoughts drifted back to the office and the new hire—Emily Bennett. She handled herself impressively today, especially for someone so new to the team. I hadn't expected her to be put on the spot like that during the meeting, but she stepped up without hesitation. Confident, articulate, and full of good ideas—hiring her was one of the better decisions I've made recently.

As I stirred the vegetables, I replayed how she managed to impress Jason. That wasn't easy—Jason could be a hard ass, but he actually nodded along with her suggestions. She was nervous at first—anyone would be—but she didn't let it show. I respected that.

The door to the balcony slid open, and Rachel walked in, her heels clicking softly against the tile. I didn't need to look up to know she was wearing something skimpy; she'd been doing that more often lately, as if it was part of her strategy to keep my attention. It might have worked a few years ago, but now it just felt... routine.

She was on the phone, flipping through the wedding planner she'd been obsessing over for weeks. "Yes, I know it's short notice, but we absolutely need to book this venue," she insisted, her tone sharp. She barely acknowledged me as she walked past the kitchen island.

I turned back to the stove, plating the stir-fry and setting it on the table. My thoughts wandered to the mess I hadn't figured out how to clean up. I hadn't told Rachel about my wife—Emily, or was it Emma?—somewhere overseas. Guam, maybe? The details were fuzzy, and I hadn't heard from her in years. Filing for divorce had crossed my mind, but I'd never seriously considered it. I didn't even know where to start, and truth be told, I didn't want to deal with it. No one knew I was married—not even Rachel. The thought of telling her was almost laughable. Bella was the only one who knew, and that was because she introduced me to my... wife. I couldn't even remember what she looked like.

I shook off the thought, trying to focus on the present. Rachel paused her conversation, finally noticing me. "Andrew, which bouquet do you like better—the roses or the peonies?" She didn't wait for a response before adding, "The roses are classic, but the peonies are so on-trend right now."

I glanced at the pictures she held up, both options looking equally extravagant. "I don't care, Rachel," I said flatly. "They both sound expensive."

She rolled her eyes and went back to her phone call. "Go with the peonies," she decided, her attention already elsewhere.

I sighed, setting down the plates. Rachel walked over, eyeing the food with a critical look. "Rice?" she asked, her tone edged with disapproval. "Andrew, I'm trying to lose weight for the wedding. This is going to make me look bloated."

I felt my patience wearing thin. "Then don't eat it," I replied, not bothering to mask my irritation.

She huffed but didn't argue. Instead, she changed the subject. "I was thinking, my mother could fly in for Christmas next month. We could go wedding dress shopping together. It'll be fun."

I barely acknowledged her as I sat down, my mind drifting back to work. Rachel had been different ever since we got engaged—more intense, more... focused on the wedding. Every decision, every conversation was about the wedding. It was exhausting.

"Andrew, are you even listening to me?" she snapped, pulling me back to the present.

"Yeah, I'm listening," I lied, meeting her gaze.