"I'm sorry."
George turned to look at me as I spoke, then pulled his shirt on and turned away from me again.
"About..."
"I don't mean to be so moody." I sighed. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, and I'm sorry I didn't let you have a say. I should've talked to you about it instead of just making a decision just like that."
George looked at me again as I stood there, my arms wrapped around myself.
"You are so different, you know." He said. "Than when I fell in love with you. You aren't the same Dahlia anymore. I don't know what changed..."
I stared at him as he spoke, ignoring the pain I felt from what he said. Then when he looked at me for a third time, I looked down at the floor.
"You're just..." George sighed. "You are so unhappy."
I looked at him again, and this time our eyes met.
"Do you want a divorce?" He asked. "Because it's fine if you do. I won't put up a fight like Malcolm did. If that's what you want—"
"What?" I cut him off. "A divorce? George, I don't want to divorce you. I love you."
He let out a breath of relief, placing his hands on the wall for a moment before he turned towards me.
"Thank god, cos I don't think I would've been able to handle that."
I laughed softly and George smiled as I walked over to him. I wrapped my arms around his back and he immediately closed his around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my head.
"I'm sorry for being a bitch." I told him.
"You're not being a bitch." He laughed softly. "You are pregnant and you aren't happy. It's okay."
I ran my hands up his back, resting them over the back of his shoulder while I closed my eyes, enjoying the closeness of our bodies.
We hadn't had many of these moments while I was in the hospital.
"I think I need to have therapy twice a week." I said with a small laugh. "After I woke up... there was a moment where I felt so bummed that I was alive."
George's body tensed up before he moved a hand to my jaw, tilting it back and away from his chest so that he could look at me.
"What?" His voice was weak, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "You wanted to die?"
I shrugged.
"Just for a moment... but then I saw you sitting there and I instantly felt guilty for even having that thought." I said. "I'm just so exhausted with everything. With the situation with Malcolm and Leah. I want Leah to be able to understand the situation... but—"
I sighed, shaking my head.
"She's barely twelve. I can't force her to understand something I wouldn't even have understood myself at that age."
George brought me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. "It doesn't matter if the thought only lasted a moment. It crossed your mind and that's enough. You need more help than what you're getting."
I rested my head against his chest, closing my eyes again, but I didn't say anything. I knew George was right. I did need more help, but first I needed to fix this entire thing with Malcolm and Leah.
"Do you think I could win the case?"
At my question, George brushed his fingers through my hair, resting his head on top of mine.
"I do." He answered. "I'm positive that you would."
"And if I don't..."
"You will."
"George—"
"Listen." He spoke and I pulled my head back to look up at him again. "We can go down to the ministry tomorrow, talk to Hermione and—"
"No." I cut him off. "Hermione told me to settle."
Realisation seemed to wash over George's face. A sigh left his lips and he slid his arms down so that they were wrapped around my waist.
"Hermione told you? That's why you decided it so suddenly?"
"No Baddock has lost a case." I said. "The only case they did lose, was when Malcolm's mother was sentenced after threatening to hurt Elsie and Leah."
George brushed my hair behind my ear.
"You used to be a Baddock." He said. "When you were married. Leah is a Baddock. You won't lose."
"Yeah but—"
"We will get you the best fucking lawyer the wizarding world has." He said. "And we are going to fight Malcolm so fucking hard that he wishes he was never fucking born."
I laughed softly at the way George threw curse words out there.
"Okay." I nodded, smiling up at him. "We'll fight. We'll go to court."
A small smile spread across his face as he brought a hand to my jaw and leaned down, kissing me.
When he pulled back, I grasped his shirt and pulled him back in, wanting more of him.
My fingers got tangled in his hair and I tugged at it while pulling back, making sure the kiss lingered on his lips.
"So my brother's wife got into your head, huh?" He asked and when I went to speak, he pressed a finger to my lips, shaking his head. "Stay quiet."
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. "You could've told me that what Hermione said made you nervous."
I didn't answer.
"Dia?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow at me and I smirked, watching the way confusion filled his eyes.
"What?" I asked teasingly. "You told me to stay quiet."
"Oh, you little—"
I cut him off by pulling him down again, slipping a hand to the back of his neck as I kissed him deeply.
I couldn't help but laugh against his lips as I thought about the way he looked at me just now.
"What?" He whispered, breaking the kiss for just a short second before he pressed against me again.
"Nothing." I whispered against his lips, running my hand down his neck and over his chest.
My hand went to his belt buckle, but then there was a tiny voice.
"Mummy?"
George and I pulled apart, our hands leaving each other as I turned and we looked at Amelia who stood in the doorway with a drawing.
"Hi baby." I smiled while she walked over.
I ran my hand over her hair.
"I made you something." She said and held the drawing up. "Liam helped but he also played with my dolls. I did most of it."
I turned the drawing over and smiled as I looked down at what was supposed to be me with a newborn baby, standing outside of a house. She had drawn the grass, the sky and a sun in the corner.
"That's you and my new little sister."
A wide smile was permanently painted on my face as I looked from the drawing and down to Amelia.
"You know what, Mia? You should be an artist." I said and hugged her back when she wrapped her arms around my legs. "This is a masterpiece, and do you know where masterpieces go?"
"On the fridge?"
I chuckled and nodded.
"On the fridge."
