I didn’t understand. Nila was the story queen. She’d trawl the internet for every Disney animation, picture book, and tale she could find. I’d just linger in the dark, listening to her sultry voice and grow drowsy with the two infants before she put me to bed and used her mouth in other ways.
“Yes, we want the story of you and Mummy!” Kes looked at his sister. “True story, right, Em?”
Emma clapped her hands. “True. True!”
Vaughn muttered under his breath. “God, I think you’re a small statistic of parents who should never tell their kids how they met. It’s not like you shacked up at some bar and made a drunken mistake—that’s a bad enough tale to have, but mentioning a beheading for a debt from the 1400’s...kind of far-fetched.”
I chuckled. “It is far-fetched...but perhaps that’s what makes it a good story?”
Jaz narrowed her eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I mean life isn’t meant to be generic and follow a pre-approved script.”
Nila murmured, “If it did, where would the adventures be...the dragon-slaying knights and unicorn-riding princesses?”
“I’m a princess,” Emma announced, poking herself in the chest. “I am. Me.”
I grinned indulgently. “And what sort of princess are you?”
She suddenly shot to her tiny feet and soared around the beanbags in her pink tutu with her arms stretched wide. “I’m a Hawk princess.”
Nila grabbed her mid-run, tickling her and blowing raspberries on her neck. “A hawk, huh? Not an eagle or a kite or a vulture?”
Emma wrinkled her nose. “No, silly. A hawk.” Pointing at me, Nila, and Kes, she said, “We’re all Hawks.”
Nila’s thoughts tangled between marrying me and taking my last name and the fact that Jasmine would soon become a Weaver. We’d swapped roles. Blended our bloodlines.
Gathering my family closer, I said, “Okay, you want a story? I’ve got a story.”
Instantly, the children hunkered down, their amber eyes locked on me. Jaz, V, and Nila placed me in the centre of attention, waiting for me to spin something crazy and fantastical.
But I wouldn’t do that.
I wouldn’t dishonour my children by lying to them, and I wouldn’t discredit the past and not learn from history. They wanted to know the story of how Nila and I met? Okay, they’d hear the truth, and it was up to them to deem fact from fiction.
My children would be the opposite of what I’d been groomed to be. They would be kind and helpful; they’d never want for anything, but they would know how to help others less fortunate. They would bebetter.
“Once upon a time, there was a seamstress named Needle and Thread.”
Emma sighed, snuggling closer to Nila. “She’s like you, Mummy.”
Kes shook his head defiantly. “SheisMummy.”
My heart fisted with love. “That’s right. Now, stop interrupting.” Taking a deep breath, I hugged them harder. “One night, Needle had the largest party of her life. Kings and queens came from everywhere to see her magical creations with lace and cotton. She’d worked for years to create something so perfect and a dress that defied all beauty. A dress with feathers and diamantes and silk.”
“And the naughty prince ripped it off her.” Nila kissed my cheek, granting the secret words directly into my ear. “He threw her on his gallant steed and stole her into darkness.”
Placing her head on my shoulder, she breathed, “But he was already in love with her, so he’d lost the fight before it’d begun.”
Kes and Emma couldn’t hear what my incredible wife whispered, and I fought the urge to steal her away again and show her just how much I wanted her for eternity.
I fought the urge while my children waited for me to continue. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Nila. “I was, you know.”
She tensed, her eyes meeting mine. “You were? The text messages? They were enough to fall—”
“Fall in love with you? I think I fell in love with you when we met the final time when you were thirteen.”
“I don’t remember that.”
