"Want some coffee?" Andy deflected and led her friend through the hallway toward the kitchen.
Shay plopped into her regular seat at the rickety wooden table and slapped the magazine down in front of her. "You did a hell of a job. Really. The whole shoot is stunning. It changes his whole image with the..."
Apparently coming to her senses at last, Shay trailed off and Andy turned to offer her an understanding smile. It made sense, wanting to discuss the shoot that would put their agency on the map. She'd seen it headline on the sports network the day before and if her memory served her right, at least twenty new clients had referenced it in their consultations.
It was exciting.
Or, at least, it should have been.
"It's okay," Andy said and switched on the coffee maker. "Really."
"You keep saying that, but I'm not sure I believe you." Shay stood and grabbed two white mugs from the creaky cabinets.
"What is there to be upset about? I've got a better image, a stronger company—"
"And no Logan," Shay finished.
Andy had avoided the name for two weeks. Even in her private thoughts, she'd taken to calling him "He-who-must-not-be-loved." But hearing it aloud? It was like a bee sting to the heart.
When she didn't reply, Shay went on, "You know, your brother hasn't heard from him in weeks. He called him about the cover and got his voicemail."
The last drops of coffee dripped into the carafe and Andy wasted no time in pouring. Anything to distract from the world's most painful conversation. "He's probably busy. Lots of press and—"
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what it is." Shay took her cup and headed back to the table, sipping as she went.
"What do you want from me here, Shay?" Andy sighed. What was she supposed to say? That she was hurting? That she was weak? That she'd spent every night thinking about him and what he was doing? Too bad; those thoughts weren't for public consumption.
"You let him get away," Shay said. It wasn't an accusation. If anything, it sounded more like a plea. Like she was trying to convey something that Andy wasn't capable of hearing.
Well, her friend was wrong there, too. Andy knew, deep in her heart, that she could have changed things. She could find him today and try to make it right. But what would that solve? What would that change?
Absolutely nothing. So she sat in her house, missing him and wanting him, secure in the knowledge that it was better that way. And that was, by far, the very worst part.
"You don't understand." Andy sprinkled some sugar into her cup, unwilling to look her friend in the eye.
"Try to explain. I just want to help." The words were quiet, but they were sincere.
It would hurt to tell her, to say the words aloud. But maybe, just maybe, if Andy said them aloud, it would help to clean the wound. Like cauterizing the gaping hole in her heart.
Leaving her coffee behind, Andy walked toward the table and dropped into the seat beside her friend.
For a long moment, she was silent, trying to figure out the best way to explain. But when she lighted upon the cover again, with lots of beautiful women draped around the man she loved, it finally came it her.
Pointing at the image, Andy said, "This is what he is, see? These women and the fame. I mean, look at him. That's the kind of woman he belongs with."
"Andy, you're beauti—"
She waved her friend off and continued. "It’s not about whether or not I'm pretty. That doesn't really matter, you know? The fact is that I don't know how to be a woman. Like, a real woman with makeup and dresses and shit. I'm not Florence Nightingale or Carol Brady. My dad raised me to be Cal Ripken Jr., not to be married to him."
Shay's eyebrows drew together and she took a long sip on her mug before she spoke again. "That's what this is about?"
Andy nodded. "He might think it’s cute or funny now. I'm sure anybody would. It's different. But in the future? He's going to want a girl on his arm who can walk in heels. He deserves someone who can take care of him. Not someone who can play catch."
"Oh, Andy, girl," Shay sighed. “You’ve got it so twisted.”
“No, I’ve finally gotten it straightened out.” Andy took a triumphant swig of her coffee. Shay would never understand this kind of thing. She was tailor-made for the trophy wife lifestyle. That was fine. Matt hadn’t understood, either. They didn’t need to.
They weren’t the ones who had to lay awake at night thinking over what Logan had said to her. They weren’t the ones who had to live with the fact that he’d only wanted her after he’d made her more palatable. They weren’t the ones crying themselves to sleep knowing that even that hadn’t been good enough to make him stay.