Andy figures out that they're not just rich.

They're rich.

*

"Thank you, Tristan," Andy chirps, stepping out of the car, heart speeding up at the sight of her husband—husband!—waiting in the front porch.

Sabina slides her sunglasses down and whistles, looking up at the house. "Hey, kid. You gonna throw a housewarming or something?"

"That is fucking huge," MJ comments quietly, mouth dropping open.

Andy forces a wide smile on her face. "Soon, I promise. Thanks for lunch and the ride, Sab!"

MJ waves. "See ya, bub!"

"Tell Harton I can see his grouch face from here, the dude just got married," Sabina mutters, rolling her eyes, and then she blows a kiss to Andy. "See you next week, babe."

When they're gone, Andy turns around and runs with a squeal.

Rhysand catches her just as her feet lift off the ground. "Hello, Mrs. Harton," he greets, and Andy can hear the smile in his voice, and her heart soars.

"Hello, Mr. Harton," she whispers, bringing his head down to hers to kiss him.

Rhysand's smile presses against her mouth. It makes her giddy. "You missed me this much? We just got back from our honeymoon."

"And I wanna go back," Andy whines, kissing him again when he pulls back, and Rhysand laughs but kisses her back sweetly, anyway. "When it was just you and me."

Like their wedding, Rhysand gave her everything she wanted and more for their honeymoon. More than going to Andy's favorite place—each of the six Disneyland parks in the world—they basked in grand hotel rooms, fancy dinners and lazy breakfasts, sightseeing, saw each of the places together—hand in hand. Every time Andy looks at hers or Rhysand's finger, she has to pinch herself—tell her it's not a dream she's married to him.

But Andy knows, even if their honeymoon wasn't as extravagant or glamorous or anything big, if they'd just spent it in the comfort of their small two-story home for a week and ordered takeout...Andy would still be as happy as she is now.

Rhysand's eyes shine, and he brushes his thumb against her cheek, and Andy leans against it. "It's still you and me, baby."

"I know," Andy says, tiptoeing to kiss him again. "Forever. You wanna start with carrying me to the house?"

"Right." Rhysand bends down and picks her up in one swift move, and Andy squeals, giggling, locking her arms around his neck. "How could I forget to carry my wife over the threshold?"

She kisses his neck quickly, swinging her legs. "Shame on you, husband."

Their home's security has both a code and a fingerprint. Rhysand quickly unlocks the door and steps inside. "Welcome home, sunshine."

Even though they built and designed this together, Andy's breath still catches at the sight of their beautiful and modern interior with the spacious living room and open-concept kitchen, glass-encased stairs, and all the marble and expensive furniture.

It's not just that. As soon as Rhysand puts Andy down, one hand on her back, a group of faces greet her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Harton," the woman with graying hair on the right says with a smile.

"Hello," Andy says, blinking and smiling back. She stands straight and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"This is Elena, our cook and helper," Rhysand tells her softly.

"Oh." Andy shakes the hand offered to her, stunned.

"Ben and Vivian, of course, our security," he says.

"Mrs. Harton." The bulky guy offers his hand out, too, and so does the woman on his left.

They were also their security during the wedding and the honeymoon. "Hello, nice to see you again." Andy gives them a smile.

"Would you like anything to eat before I unpack your bags?" Elena offers kindly. "Or maybe something to drink? Tea or coffee?"

"I'm good, thank you." Rhysand bends down to kiss Andy's forehead. "I have to look at some work in the studio real quick, but I promise I'm done by dinner."

Andy raises an eyebrow. "We just got back from our honeymoon and you already have work?"

Rhysand's mouth curls upwards, and his hand slips away. "I just need to check something, baby, I promise. I'm yours by dinner."

"You better be." Andy narrows her eyes at him, and he leaves with a smile towards the direction of his studio.

Elena's still looking at her expectantly, eyes warm.

"Oh." Andy flushes, rubbing her hand down her arm. "Sorry. Yeah, coffee sounds great, please. And thank—thank you so much. Oh, and you don't need to pack our bags, I'll do it. Thank you."

Their security scurry away as Andy follows Elena into the kitchen silently, taking a seat on one of the island stools.

Andy doesn't know how long she stares at the marble on the counter, but Elena's voice pulls her back into reality. "Sugar, Mrs. Harton?"

"What?" She blinks. "Oh—ah, yes. Yes, please. Thank you."

Elena smiles at her, and Andy smiles back.

Andy clears her throat and leans forward. "Elena...can you just call me Andy, please?"

The old woman's voice is kind when she answers, "As you wish, Andy."

She exhales in relief, shoulders slumping. "Thank you so much."

Elena brings over her coffee in a white mug. "Now, what would you like for dinner tonight, Andy? Lobster tails with chive butter, Scandinavian steak and potatoes, or seared scallops and baby spinach with spice pomegranate glaze?"

Andy doesn't know a thing she said. Swallowing, she says quietly, "Um, actually, I was thinking if we can just order fast food? If—if that's okay? We had a lot of fancy foods during our honeymoon and I kinda just want grease—"

Elena is staring at her with a kind smile.

Andy slaps a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your plans. The, um—the steak and the scallops sound good! Oh my God, no, that was wrong—the, the lobster—"

"Mrs. Harton."

"Andy," Andy squeaks in embarrassment, looking at her hands, flushing from head to toe. "Please."

Elena's voice is warm. "Andy. This is your home and your kitchen. You don't need to ask for permission."

Andy looks at her. She's still smiling, and Andy's nerves loosen up at her kindness.

But also: "Oh." Andy blinks. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Please don't apologize," Elena says with a laugh, reaching over to squeeze her hand assuringly. "You're a very sweet girl, Andy. And congratulations on your wedding."

She grins. "Thank you, Elena."

*

It takes some getting used to—to remember that this is Andy's home.

It takes a lot of getting used to.

"Baby, someone parked in front of the house," Andy tells Rhysand on the phone with a frown, scrambling for her shoes to get to work. "What do I do? Do I ask Viv to leave a note?"

Rhysand pauses. And then, "Are you talking about the Porsche?"

"I don't know," Andy huffs, shouldering her bag. "I think? It's gray and it looks fancy."

A breathless laugh. "Sunshine."

"Yeah?"

"That's our car."

"Oh." Andy blinks. "Oh, right."

And it's not just the house or the cars or the bathroom with the television and a tub big enough for two people. It's also the expensive dinners, the overpriced grocery items, the fancy new printer Rhysand just bought with one click with no hesitations, because Andy said she needed one for school and for her paperwork at the bakery.

It's Andy looking at their joint bank account and feeling squeamish because—with Rhysand's money, they're not just rich.

They're rich.

The wedding and the honeymoon were extravagant enough. More than extravagant, and Andy knows Rhysand blew a lot of zeroes to make both happen. He blew a lot of zeroes building her the bakeshop she wanted, and he's looking into blowing a lot more zeroes for the animal shelter Andy just mentioned once during dinner.

"That's great, sunshine." He smiles at her. "We can look into vacant lands near the school or the bakeshop and build it there. Or we can just hire a contractor—"

Andy puts down her fork. "Babe, I was joking."

Rhysand blinks once. "Oh. So you don't want to own an animal shelter?"

"No, I—" Andy takes a deep breath and puts her hands on the table, pursing her lips. Eyes downcast, she mutters, "I do. Of course I do. Aside from the teaching and the baking, that's another thing I want to do and fulfill."

Rhysand reaches over and takes her hand gently. His thumb strokes the ring on her finger, and he says, "Then do it, baby. You can if you want to. Why don't you sound more excited?"

"Because." Andy's head bows, and she hides her face with her hair, and she mutters, "Rhys. It's a nonprofit thing."

Rhysand is quiet, but his thumb doesn't stop rubbing her ring. Finally, after a few more beats, he says in a soft tone, "I don't understand, Andrea."

"I have a small salary," she murmurs, looking at their hands. "From the teaching. And the bakeshop is just starting out—and even if we gain profit, there's a lot of expenses and loss, too. And then the shelter will just be expenses after expenses and expenses. It's a non-profit thing."

"I know that. I know all of that, and I still don't understand," Rhysand says.

She inhales shakily and finally raises her head, meeting his eyes. His face is scrunched with concern and worry and love and there is nothing Andy can offer him other than her love. "There is nothing I can give you," Andy finally whispers. "I'm all there is. And I keep taking and taking and taking—and God, Rhys. This house. This mansion—you gave me this mansion and the car, too. You gave me the bakeshop and you're giving me an animal shelter and this grand life with a black card and—"

Rhysand stands abruptly, chair scraping back, and he pulls Andy up with him.

Andy stumbles, following after him. "Rhys."

"Come with me," he says, interlacing their fingers together, and he moves towards the stairs.

Andy purses her lips, heart sinking in her chest, and she follows after him with her head bowed. Rhysand opens the door to their bedroom and pulls her gently inside.

"Rhys."

"Shh." He leads her in front of their ridiculously spacious walk-in closet, and with his hands on her shoulders, moves her right in front of the full body mirror.

Andy looks at him through the glass with a questioning look.

Rhysand rubs her skin and tips his chin towards the mirror. "Remember this," he murmurs, fingers moving to her neck, slipping under the gold chain of her necklace—the sun, his gift to her years ago. "This was twenty-five dollars."

Andy blinks. "Okay."

"You loved me, then."

Andy doesn't understand. "Yes."

His hand travels from her neck, down her shoulder, arm, and to her finger, where her engagement and wedding rings are tucked together. Leaning down, he whispers in her ear, "Both of these are several million dollars."

Andy shuts her eyes and winces. She knows.

"And you loved me then, too. Now."

Andy swallows thickly and meets his gaze. "Yes."

Rhysand dips his head and kisses her temple sweetly, hands going to her waist. "Andrea...you loved me when I had nothing."

Andy draws her eyebrows together and snaps, "Because I don't care about your money—"

"Exactly," Rhysand says, laughing softly. "Exactly."

He turns around and holds her face in his hands, pressing their forehead together. He exhales heavily, and he whispers, "Sunshine...all the—all these things for us and for you? The money, this mansion, the car, the bakeshop and the shelter—they're nothing compared to the love you show and give me every day."

Andy shuts her eyes, and her bottom lip wobbles.

"So please don't say it's all you have to offer," Rhysand whispers, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "It's everything to me. It's all I want, and it's all I need."

"You are all I want and need, too," Andy whispers back, throat closing up. "Your love is all I want and need."

"I know," Rhysand says, nodding. "I know. I just—I know you'd be happy even if we lived in a one-bedroom studio apartment and took the bus and just eat takeout for dinner. I would be too, as long as it's with you." He takes a deep breath and murmurs, "But this is the life you deserve, sunshine. This is the life and the things you've dreamed of having and I have the means to give that to you when I couldn't before."

Their wedding at Kalim. Their honeymoon. A house with rooms for her best friends. Their son, Biscuit. Her bakeshop and her soon-to-be shelter.

"This life is for you, and for us," Rhysand continues softly, eyes dark and intense and honest and sincere. "And what's mine is yours. It's our money, it's our house, it's our car. And I don't care if you have a small salary, baby. Or that Bake Away will have lots of expenses, and the shelter, too. What I care about is that you wake up next to me in the morning, fall asleep next to me at night, and just...be happy doing life with me."

Andy stares at him. When she breathes, it's shaky. "I'm happy doing life with you. I am so happy."

Rhysand smiles. "Me too."

Andy rises on her tiptoes and kisses him. His lips taste like the salt of her tears.

*

just remembering when he freaked out when andy bought him a watch goodnight