CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

                TO NO ONE'S SURPRISE, both Felicity and Tommy had taken to spending every waking minute apart from each other and simply prayed to God ― not that either of them were particularly religious, but that was far from the point ― that they would not run into the other at any point in their day. The only time that they saw one another was at the end of the day, in the brief moment between Tommy entering the Garrison and disappearing into the private booth. He left the house before the sun rose and Felicity made sure to make her way to the pub at least an hour after this, so that there would not be the slightest chance of her running into the man. She would have seen him even less had she been living at her own flat, but her landlord had increased the rent to a price she most definitely could not afford out of the blue. Felicity did not know for certain, but she suspected Arthur might have had something to do with that, as she had caught him coming home one night with a grim expression upon his face and his thumbnail stained red, much to her displeasure.

So, as it happened, Felicity continued to stay at the Shelby home ― which was just as well, considering that her last name was now the same as theirs, despite Tommy's bitter exterior stating his obvious annoyance towards this ― and even though her husband did not speak to her, he hadn't tried to tell her to go on her way once again, not since Arthur had led her back into the house and told her he could and would deal with Tommy should he try to complain too much. 

Today just so happened to be her one day off from working behind the bar of the neglected Garrison, although she hadn't attended a shift in just over a week now. Or was it two? She didn't know. She didn't care. Instead, she remained at the house and decided to clear up around the parlour and front room, figuring that she might as well be helpful there. They wouldn't trust her near the books, not now. Or she didn't think they would, anyway.

And yet when Tommy stalked through the front door with a grim expression lining his features ― one that never seemed to go away now, as all he could be seen doing nowadays was dealing with the inner workings of the business as well as delegating menial tasks to those who followed him ―, all of that went away. She had one goal, now, and that was to get the raven―haired man's attention for even a split second, just so that she might explain everything and anything that he wanted. Answer for it all, apologise, swear that it was done with the thought in mind that it was the only option she had been left with in order to keep him safe. To keep the man she loved with each and every inch of her being safe. 

"Can we talk?" Felicity began, rising from her chair as she did so and crossing to him. Following him, looking lost, forever lost. 

Not a sound was uttered in return.

"Tommy, I swear I can explain it all. . ." The girl started feebly. "Everything. I can explain everything, I swear I can, and I will."

Stubborn as ever, a trait that Felicity regretfully remembered the both of them shared, Tommy didn't look at his bride as he stalked across the den, and nor did he say a word, either. He had come to the betting shop with the sole purpose of sorting out more of the business and dealing with the safe that his aunt had been so adamant about having, and he hadn't any intention of stopping for the woman who had shattered each belief of his and dropped him back at what he assumed to be square one. Tommy was stubborn to his very bones and he knew this particular fact, hence why he continued on his way towards the office. 

But if there was one thing that he could not shake, it was the fact that he cared. He cared so incredibly much and for this, he hated himself, because it proved just how much that wretched blonde girl had affected him. He cared that he was angry at her, he cared that she was distressed, he cared that it had been her, after everything and anything that they had managed to fend off throughout the last year, to pull out the brick that would send the rest of the wall crumbling down into dust. He cared. Tommy Shelby cared far too much, and he hated himself for that.

"Tommy, please!" Felicity tried again as she started after him, and once again, he ignored her, forcing all of his impatience and annoyance to soar through his veins and overwhelm the other, more tedious emotions that were threatening to take hold of him right now. 

Instead of showing her any interest in just what she had to say, Tommy turned away from the safe and towards the desk, anxiously beginning to rummage through its drawers before shuffling through the stack of neat papers above them. Nothing. 

"I know there isn't the slightest chance at forgiveness, I do know that," Felicity continued as she decided that just rambling at him ― sure, with him not replying, but that isn't important ― would be better than just letting him make up his own assumptions. And who knows? Maybe him not speaking would be better for her. . . at least then, she would be able to get out all that she needed to say without him interfering. 

"Good," was Tommy's single word reply that was in a dangerous monotone. 

She startled at the interaction ― one word interaction, granted, but still interaction. It was at least a step. . . somewhere? 

"I just want to explain it all."

Tommy made a sound in return. "I should think we'd all want that."

Despite everything, despite all that she knew she had done and the guilt that continued to refresh itself with every waking hour, Felicity could have rolled her eyes. His bluntness was infuriating and whilst she knew he had a reason to be, she couldn't help but wonder if he was simply being difficult for the sake of being difficult. 

That said, she still tried to talk, even while he was rifling through the papers and logbooks, making it perfectly clear that he wasn't interested.

"I didn't mean for it to―" Felicity began, stumbling over her words.

He cut her off easily, almost without a care in the world. Almost. "Not now."

"What?"

"You'll have to wait," Tommy said spitefully. 

"What? Why not?"

"I have to deal with the mess of this whole fucking business. . . the mess you're responsible for."

"Oh. . ."

"Jesus Christ, Felicity, do you have nothing to say?" 

Angry. Anger. Angered. 

Tommy didn't want to be angry. 

He wanted everything how it used to be. 

Love. Lovers. Loving.

He wanted love.

He wanted that back.

She wanted that back.

Neither knew how to get it back, though, and among the heartbreak and betrayal and guilt that overcame the pair of them, it was that particular fact that bit into their hearts and ripped at the shards until tiny daggers broke away and dug into their palms. They were at a loss; no one winning, no one about to win. 

"I don't know why I asked," Tommy concluded after a minute of tense silence, and he snatched up the contents of the desk in his arms. "You say you have an answer, but then. . . nothing."

He turned, and he fled. Scared that if he stayed there, just a couple of feet apart from the woman he had sworn his life to, he might go against everything he had every believed in when it came to traitorous actions and betrayals and everything that came with them. He fled ― but somehow, Tommy Shelby still managed to hold his frame with the usual confidence he had, the usual self―assurance that he would forever keep in his grasp because it was the one thing that kept him from slipping over the edge now. 

As she watched him, Felicity's heart sank just a little bit lower.

And, as he left the building, clutching a wad of papers and statements and logs in his hands as he did so, his did too. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE!

i had a tommy shelby dream last night and three days ago. . . my life is pretty good. we're ignoring all of my previous tommy dreams though because uh yeah

anyway ― i love you all! thank you for reading <33