Chapter Text
“Margate? I bet he hates it there.” You commented, riding shotgun next to a driving Mr. Shelby.
He didn’t comment, but a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He had to admit, at first, he didn’t quite see how you and Alfie managed to be married for seven years, but after listening to your ramblings while on your drive, he could see it now.
Your demeanor screamed dainty and rich. And yes, you are rich, but also near as crazy as Alfie.
“How long have you known that he’s alive?” You asked.
“When he sent me a letter asking me how Cyril was, though I doubt he remembers doing so.” He recalled. “And come to think of it now, he did also ask if the talks about his death was all the news people of Camden had about him. I think he was trying to know if people had discovered about your marriage.”
“Please enlighten me Mrs. Solomons, on how you both met.” Curiosity got the best of him.
You couldn’t stop your smile at the memory.
“Well if you must know, I was set to be betrothed to a man whose bare bottom only touched the finest of fabrics…” Thomas snorted at this. “I refused, saying I didn’t want to spend my life papmered next to a grown baby’s powdered bum all my life, got cut off and was left with practically nothing.” You both chuckled.
“I ended up in Camden town, and intended to steal some bread in this poorly lit bakery, but ended up in a bargain with this weirdly attractive man, that he’d find me a place to stay if I go out for dinner with him. Three months later we got married. But because we chose to keep it secret, it was always just secret visits in each other’s places.”
“I rarely give compliments, Y/N. But I admire you for taking matters into your own hands in finding the truth. Even though seven months is a long time.”
“We all crave certainty.” You simply answered. There was a reason why it took you that long. And they were left in Camden under the care of a good friend who had no clue who their father was.
And If you had to be honest, you were trying to calm your nerves. You thank the universe that your husband is alive, but given how he’s gone so long without even trying to reach out, the question whether he’d still want you lingered.
“Should I just have settled with the information that he is alive?” You whispered to yourself.
“You’ll never know unless you actually go talk to him.” Thomas answered, having heard what you’ve said. “And you should, because I’m a stubborn gypsy man who rarely does favors, but I did this for the wife of a man who’s been a dick to me once or twice. Consider this opportunity lucky.”
“Why are you helping me then?”
“Well I’m not as heartless as I may seem. I once had a wife I dearly love before she took a bullet for me.” You offered your sympathy, and he continued. “Plus, I’m curious about seeing the Alfie Solomons possibly getting hit from a woman as small as you are.” He smirked at the thought, and you smiled in return.
“We never laid a hand on each other, Mr. Shelby. Not unless one asked to.” Thomas coughed at what you insinuated, but was clearly amused. “Though I might just need to slap this one out later.”
You didn’t know at which part of the long drive you fell asleep, but the next thing you know, Thomas Shelby was trying to wake you up.
“Oi lady.” He was waving a hand in front of your face for who knows how long. “I believe you have a husband to confront.”
Composing yourself, you slowly got out of the car. You were in the driveway of his house. From outside it was decent. Might even be a lot better than where Alfie was living in Camden.
Once you were both by the front door, you were starting to panic.
“You do think I’m making the right decisions, right?”
“I think a man who has chosen to be presumed dead without telling his wife owes her an explanation.” He nodded.
Mr. Shelby took to initiative to knock. Followed by another. And another one.
“Who are you and what the fuck do you want?” you heard your husband’s voice and his footsteps approaching.
“It’s Thomas. I brought you one of your treasures left in Camden.” He didn’t give you away, not risking not even getting the door opened.
Alfie swung the door open. “What the hell are you ta-…” he faltered once he saw you standing next to Thomas.
You were also frozen in place.
Tommy was looking back and forth the both of you, probably waiting for the said slap to happen. You were too shocked, looking at your husbands face. Half of it now sits with scars, and an eye that was now missing the blue you love staring into.
“Y/N?” Mr. Shelby asked. This thankfully brought you back to your senses.
“Well how the hell am I to slap him if his face looks like that?!” You yelled, still looking at Alfie.
“Well he was the one who shot me on the face you admire so much, luv.” Alfie answered, still intensely staring at you. You snapped your head at Thomas, who brought his arms up in defense and started backing away.
“He asked me to.” He defended. “I think I’ll wait in the car. You two sort your marital stuff.”
Now left alone with each other, he gestured for you to come in and you obliged. But as soon as he closed the door behind him, you have thrown your shoe at the wall at his side.
“Luv, I-“
“What the fuck, Alfie?!” You yelled at him, your voice trembling. “You have the audacity to fucking call me that after not even reaching out? What, did you like your new house here so much, you forgot you had a wife?!”
Like a treacherous bitch, hot tears started spilling on your face. Alfie still stood by the closed door, looking at anywhere but you.
“If you didn’t want me anymore, the least you could’ve done was tell me.” No, out of all the scenarios you could’ve imagined, you never imagined yourself to be the first one to break upon seeing him again. But here you were. A mess.
“Of course, I still love you.” That was all he could barely whisper.
“You have a minute to tell me everything, Alfie Solomons, or you’d be dead to me forever.” You were still crying angry tears, but the determination on your face scared Alfie to the core. He knew you were dead serious.
He started pacing back and forth while your eyes followed. He wasn’t trying to come up with an excuse, but was rather trying to figure out where to start.
A moment had passed and you took it as your cue to leave. Sighing in defeat, you shook your head and was about to head out the door forever when he caught your arm.
“I didn’t want to burden you, okay? I- I was feeling a little funny and one day I went to the doctor and he said I had this fucker called cancer.” You were frozen on your spot, looking at him, bewildered at the revelation.
“Now how could I be a good husband when I couldn’t even take care of my fucking self.” He looked away when a tear started to fall.
It was rare for your beast of a husband to shed a tear - he dreaded showing that side of him. So you knew that news of his illness really took a toll on him.
“Oh, Alfie…” You whispered, softly cupped his scarred face.
“I didn’t marry you to become what I refused to marry into years ago. You know how much I love you. You were never and will never be a burden to us.” He finally took you in his arms.
“Us?” He caught on what you said, a glimmer on his face.
“Don’t worry my love, I tell the twins about you all the time.” You smiled at the thought of how Alfie would be a mush of a father to them.
“You were pregnant?” He pulled away and started to wiped away your tears with his thumb.
“I was three months long when you disappeared. I was hoping to find you sooner, but I just gave birth a month ago.”
“No, Y/N , I’m the one that’s sorry.” He insisted, showering your face with pecks.
“You’re going to be a great father, love.” You smiled at him.
“But half of the face you love so much is all gone now too. Hell, how am I even supposed to look after twins when I only have one seeing eye?” He stated, making you chuckle.
“Well lucky for you, I actually think the scar makes you even more attractive.” You smiled, touching them. “As for the eye, you have me. I never said you have to take care of them both at once.” You both chuckled.
“I’d hate to admit it, but I owe Thomas Shelby.” He answered and you nodded in agreement.
“We should probably invite him in, luv. We’re starting to seem rude leaving the king of Birmingham outside.” You chuckled.
“You know…“ He started, tucking loose har beehind your ear. "I once said that hell would look like Margate, but I think it would actually be lovely if we finally settle here and have a place to call our own. No more sneaking around, no secret visits.”
“I’d love that.” You answered pulling him down for a kiss.
“Life is so much easier to deal with when you are dead.” He whispered.