The only thing about her that wasn't perfect was her need to control.
The man, exact contrast to his beautiful wife. She was dark and bright whereas he was bright and dark. His almost baby blonde locks were always expertly cut and styled, his chocolate brown eyes mysterious and demanding. He had a firm grip on his company and his charming, savvy ways got him out of whatever kinds of trouble he could get himself into...and made the women love him.
The only thing about him that wasn't perfect? Was almost everything.
They thought that in order for them to fully be able to understand one another and allow themselves to fall into the kind of love they falsely portrayed themselves to be in, was the driving need for children. But both wanted them for almost entirely different reasons. Understandable, they thought it would make them the perfect family, but she wanted someone to dote all of her love and affection onto and he wanted someone that would take over, become someone just like him.
What they weren't expecting were twins. And girls. He was upset and disappointed, she was beyond thrilled. Soon all of her time was devoted to setting up the nursery. Pink covered the walls, the floor, the windows. Lace and satin were draped all over the ceiling to hang down to the floor, sheltering two identical canopy cribs placed strategically in the middle of the room, both on angles and in front of the massive window that looked out over the expansive back yard.
6 months later, she went into labor while he was at work. She called out his name and yet he didn't come. She went through the pains of birthing her daughters into the world by herself. After the 6 hours of unbelievable pain, her daughters were brought forth from within her womb and her husband walked into the room.
With lipstick smudged on his collar and a flowery scent wafting from him.
Her blue eyes with their golden flecks filled up with tears. She could have forgiven him for working through the most important day of her life. She could have found it in her heart to let her pain roll from her shoulders if he had been busy with a client. But she could not and would not forgive him for the lipstick.
A strawberry red badge of his deceit.
He tried to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to allow him to see his daughters. But she sent him from the room with curses and tears running down her face. Their fantasy family had come to an end just as it was starting. And her heart hardened to stone, allowing no one but her daughters to penetrate her cold shell.
Her daughters were as different as they were the same. Identical in their facial features and body, they were as different as night and day.
And he watched them begin their path of growing from far away since that day in the hospital, his new girlfriend and mistress by his side. Only with a lot of begging did he learn the names of his daughters. His beautiful daughters.
Sawyer and Bulma.
Sawyer, with her perfect curls in a color that will forever mock him, a symbol of just what it was that ruined his life and how weak he really had turned out to be. Her dark eyes, his eyes, were a perfect contrast to the strawberry tresses.
Bulma, completely different. Her hair, much to his surprise was paper white while her eyes were almost a translucent blue flecked with golden and green. He was so proud that she had been blessed with his hair color, until the twins were almost two and the wintery locks began to turn a different color. No longer was her hair the brilliant shade of palest blonde, but had started to turn a pale blue.
Thought both girls were different, they loved each other, and their mother unconditionally.
Until something happened that created a rift between not only the twins, but their mother as well. She had brought home another man.
The twins were five when they remarried.
They were six when their brother, Jayden, came into the world. One of the twins was cherished like a family pet, given everything that she wanted, the other, abused in more ways than one.
Now, may I introduce to you...
A story that is dedicated with everything in my heart to Mercedes-Rae. May her memories live on in my heart for the rest of my life, and may I never forget just how blessed I was to be able to call her my sister and friend.
Always in my heart my little golden angel.