“Josh, get down from that tree or I swear to god you won’t like the consequences…” Heather threatened her son from where she was standing underneath the tree.
The little boy simply stuck his tongue at his mother.
“Stop worrying about every little detail, sweetheart. You’ll just get wrinkles,” Damien told his mate as he came to stand next to her.
He was holding his younger daughter in his arms, and the blonde little girl started flailing her arms in her mother’s direction. “Mama. Mama.” She said.
Heather looked down at Emily’s shoes –yes, she had named her after her human best friend whose memory had been wiped clean of her– and told her affectionately as she kissed her forehead, “Not now. You’ll ruin my wedding dress, sweetie.”
Indeed, it was Heather’s and Damien’s wedding day. An
