Author's note: WARNING: infidelity.
I don't want to give too much away, but if this subject makes you uncomfortable, then skip this one.
This is for the person who said they don't like smut, I decided to make it cleaner, but I would still rate it T for language.
I was kind of holding off of this idea for a while because I didn't know how everyone will react (I still don't) and I was scared it will be out of character, but after listening to this song I decided to go for it.
Also, an update for Daughter later this week, I promise. I know some of you have been waiting for that.
Leave me your thoughts if you want to!
*************
"And you wanna scream
Don't call me kid, don't call me baby
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me"
Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift
*******
Andy needs to angry chop.
Maya is staying over at Jack's, and Andy is not hungry, but she needs to chop something, otherwise she is going to just take a knife and throw it at one of the walls.
She goes through whatever they have in the fridge, until she finds a piece of celery that seems like it needs to be thrown out anyway. She picks the sharpest chef knife they own and starts to cut into the piece of vegetable vigorously, trying to channel all of the anger and hurt she feels unsuccessfully.
She moves the knife up and down in big motions, violent, even, and therefore doesn't notice where the food ends and her hand begins. The knife makes a cut down her left palm, not deep enough for her to need stitches, but deep enough to draw a fair amount of blood streaming down her hand and onto her wrist.
"Shit." Andy mutters under her breath. She opens one of the drawers and pulls out a clean washcloth, pressing it down with her right hand to the wound on her left, until the piece of fabric absorbs the blood and changes its color to red. She holds it down for a minute or two, so she is sure the cut won't bleed anymore.
Andy is about to put the bloody towel in the laundry, among her dirty clothes from the call they had in Los Angeles and everything else that needs to be washed and scrubbed, when she hears a knock on the door. The lights in the apartment are dimmed, and she keeps quiet for a moment, thinking that it might be enough for the unwanted guest to be convinced she is not home, and leave her to her own devices. When she hears a knock again, this time harder, louder, she understands that her little plan is doomed to failure, and she has to make her presence known.
"Miller, or Warren, or whoever it is, I am fine, I don't need a babysitter, so you can go ahead and tell Maya or anyone else who might have sent you that I am doing alright, really." She calls in the direction of the closed door as she makes her way toward it.
When she turns the key in its hole and swings the door open, he is there.
Her heart skips a beat, and then starts racing in her chest, and she is so afraid that it is thumping loud enough for him to hear.
She would have given everything not to feel that way for this man. The way she has never felt toward any other man before he came storming into her life, uninvited, uncalled for.
For years now, she managed to convince herself that she was perfectly happy with her life the way they were, she didn't need any of that feeling.
The feeling that gets everything messy and complicated and tears people from the inside out and leaves nothing but ashes in its wake.
"Andy..." He whispers her name softly to the sight of her, and if it wasn't completely impossible, she might have said that he feels the same way. The way she feels whenever he is around. Like the world is frozen and time has no meaning, and there is nothing but the way his eyes look at her. "Nobody sent me to check on you. I just care. You looked so... Disoriented after we arrived back from California. I just wanted to make sure you are alright, that's all. I couldn't walk away after seeing you like that."
