Emancipating Andie

At around midnight, Andie resorted to counting sheep. She had gotten up to one hundred and thirty four when she finally fell into unconsciousness.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she woke with a start, gasping loudly as she bolted upright in bed. She reached a trembling hand up to her face, swiping unsteadily at the tears that were pouring down her cheeks, the ones that started before she was even fully awake.

Andie glanced down at Colin as a fresh round of tears spilled from her eyes. He hadn’t moved, and she closed her eyes in relief, immediately opening them as she saw the scene unfolding again behind her eyelids.

My God, that dream.

She hadn’t had it in years, and the fact that it was back now was just as startling as the dream itself. Why was this happening now?

Andie carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, digging quietly through her purse. As soon as her hand closed around her cell phone, she stood, tiptoeing over to the balcony and sliding the door open. Once it was closed securely behind her, she lifted the phone, squinting in the darkness as she found Tracey in her contacts. She answered after the third ring.

“Andie?” she rasped into the phone. “Are you okay?”

“Hi,” she said, her voice trembling as she whispered. “I’m so sorry to wake you up.”

“It’s fine,” Tracey said. “What’s happening? Are you alright?”

“I had the dream again.”

Tracey sighed softly. “Shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just…I’m just a little shaken up,” she said, her throat closing with the threat of fresh tears.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Since you’ve had it?” Tracey asked.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed, her lips pressed together.

“Why…” Tracey hesitated. “Why do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t know,” Andie whispered.

But that was a lie. Because at that moment, she knew exactly why she was having it again. It was because Chase had stirred something in her, that desire to do something she knew was wrong, and this was her subconscious reminding her what happened the last time she did something she knew was wrong.

It was her conscience, trying to warn her.

“Are you alone?” Tracey asked.

“No. Colin’s inside sleeping.”

“Are you go

“No.”

“Andie,” Tracey said softly. “You should just tell him.”

She had no idea what her reasoning was—whether she was afraid, or embarrassed, or if she simply didn’t feel close enough to him—but regardless of the reason, she knew what her answer would be.

“No, Trace. I don’t think so.”

The next morning Andie sat in the passenger seat, filing her nails and listening to Colin grumble under his breath as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t gone back to sleep after she woke the night before, and the exhaustion was finally starting to hit her.

“Come on, asshole!” he yelled, reaching the end of his patience. “Speed limit’s sixty-five, pal. Drive or get out of the left lane!”

Andie glanced over at him before she brought her eyes back to her nails. “Did you ever think that maybe this guy’s your guardian angel?”

“What?” Colin said, looking at Andie as if she’d lost her mind.

“Did you ever think that this guy is your guardian angel? That he’s slowing you down so that you’d drive a little more safely?”

It was quiet for a beat before she heard Colin’s laughter. “Well, that’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” he asked, shooting her an amused look.

Andie dropped her eyes, twirling her nail file between her fingers as she chewed on the inside of her lip.

“Have you ever been to Tybee Island?” she asked suddenly, not sure why she even brought it up.

“No, where’s that?” Colin said, speeding up to pass the car that finally switched over to the right lane.

“It’s this little island off of Sava

“We can’t stop anywhere, Andie,” Colin said, cutting her off. “We’re too tight on time. I have to be back at work Tuesday morning.”

Andie furrowed her brow, looking out the passenger window. She just felt like talking about it; she hadn’t actually wanted to stop there. In a ridiculous way, she kind of felt like Tybee was her little secret.

Well, hers and Chase’s.

She rested her head back against the seat, remembering their time there, and she realized that, as absurd as it was, going there with anyone else would almost feel like an act of infidelity.

Colin spoke, clearly taking her silence for unhappiness. “Come on,” he said, nudging her playfully. “Are you upset that you’re driving back with a financial pla

“Stop,” Andie scolded gently. “I think he’s brave for doing that.”

“Brave?” Colin echoed, his eyebrows raised. “How is being a photographer brave?”

Andie turned toward him. “You know that he went to school to be a veterinarian, right? I mean, he could easily do that and have a steady job, steady money, but instead he’s doing what he wants to do. He’s following his dream, even if that means people might not support his decision, even if that means not knowing where his next paycheck is coming from.” Andie stopped, reining in her enthusiasm. “I just…I think that’s brave,” she concluded softly.

Colin shot her a look. “I wouldn’t exactly call it brave,” he said. “Chase has more money than he knows what to do with.”

She paused. “What are you talking about?”

“His mom died of a brain aneurism a few years ago. She left him everything. The big house in Co

“I don’t understand,” Andie said, shifting to face Colin fully. “You told me he lives in a little studio apartment in New York.”

“Yeah, he does, although calling it a studio is generous. It’s more like a closet with a bathroom,” he said with a laugh, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I mean, he doesn’t flaunt his money. The way he dresses, the way he acts, you’d never know. But my point is, it’s easy to be brave,” he said, using finger quotes, “and choose a profession like that when you have a safety net.”

Andie furrowed her brow, nibbling on her thumbnail as she turned away from him to look out the passenger window again. A few weeks ago, she probably would have agreed with him, she realized with embarrassment. But now she was completely turned off by the fact that Colin was diminishing what Chase did for a living. He was brave, she decided; money had nothing to do with it. He was following his dream, and she respected that.

She envied that.

“If you could even call it a profession,” Colin added as an afterthought, dropping a lit match into the powder keg that was Andie’s emotional state.

She whipped her head toward him. “So you don’t think photography is a respectable thing to do?” she asked, her voice laced with resentment that was seemingly lost on Colin.

“It can be,” he said with a casual shrug, “for a select few. Rare talents. But is it a profession? I don’t think so. It’s an escape. Photographers, artists, writers, they’re all dreamers. Those are hobbies, not careers.”

And there it was.

She realized then that maybe she hadn’t told Colin about the fact that she was writing a novel not because she was ashamed that she was wasting her time, but because deep down, she knew that’s exactly what he’d think she was doing.

Andie stared at his profile, studying him as if she were seeing him for the first time. All at once she remembered Chase’s notion about how people judge other people’s happiness according to their own standards. She kept her eyes on him, the oddest feeling washing over her, like she was looking at a stranger.