Ten

                                    

                                          
I loved nights like this.
                          
Sitting outside with George, drinking a cup of tea under the night sky while the kids were asleep.
                          
I loved looking up at the stars while feeling my soon-to-be husband's gaze on me. He wasn't being discreet about it, but then again I didn't think he cared — not that he had to be discreet.
                          
After all we were getting married in about a month.
                          
"Can you imagine how different our lives would have been if we hadn't met?" I asked before I finally looked at him, our eyes meeting.
                          
He brought his cup up to take a sip, his eyes staying on mine.
                          
"I don't like imagining that." He admitted. "I'm happy we met. I'm happy my bold statements ended up charming you instead of repulsing you."
                          
I chuckled and looked back up at the sky before I sighed.
                          
"Do you remember when I told you that I used to look at the stars and imagine that Nadine was one of them?"
                          
"Yeah..."
                          
"Since I was twelve, my biggest wish was to have my sister back." I said, brushing a hand through my hair. "My brain back then just created this wonderful version of her and it turned out to be completely wrong..."
                          
I then looked at him.
                          
"But you knew that, didn't you?" I asked. "You knew she wasn't who I said she was."
                          
George cleared his throat and reached over to place his cup on the table, then leaned back and exhaled deeply.
                          
"I love you, Dia. I saw the way you looked up to her. I didn't want to take that away from you." He said. "And at the time, we both thought she was dead. I didn't imagine that the picture you had painted of her would be ripped away so quickly."
                          
I smiled weakly.
                          
"I love you for that."
                          
I looked down at my cup and ran my finger along the edge of it, my eyebrows knitted together into a frown.
                          
"If I ever start to act manipulative towards you—"
                          
"Dia, stop."
                          
"No." I looked at him again. "If I do, George... I need you to think about yourself. If I start acting like my mother, I need you to take the kids, all of them and leave me. I know how messed up it is so have someone in your life who constantly manipulates you. It easily breaks your spirit and I don't want that for you or for any of the kids."
                          
George stood up, grabbing his cup before he moved around to my side and sat down next to me.
                          
"You're not your mother."
                          
I shrugged.
                          
"Nadine turned out like her."
                          
"And that's Nadine. You're not either one of them. You've lived your entire life wanting to be the opposite and you managed to succeed. You're in therapy. That means you want to do something to help yourself. You're a wonderful person, a wonderful fiancé and a wonderful mother."
                          
I looked at him as he downed his tea, placing the cup on the table before he looked at me, our eyes meeting.
                          
"You took my kids in as of they were your own." He said. "And it didn't even take you years. Right away, you showed them so much motherly love that they hadn't felt before. There is a reason they are you as their mum. You are their mum. Maybe not through blood but then again, blood doesn't always matter."
                          
I smiled softly, bringing my cup up to not only drink but also to hide the fact that I was crying a little at what he said.
                          
George chuckled and I realised that he did in fact notice.