An ominous cluster of smoky grey clouds crawled over the top of Arrow House, as Tommy Shelby exited the grandeur of his luxury car and stepped onto the gravel driveway of the place he called home. As he had arrived, it hadn't gone amiss to his astute gaze that there was another vehicle parked up – and it only took him a number of seconds as his car had crawled closer to recognise the shiny grey vehicle as Alfie Solomons.

Collecting both his belongings and his thoughts, Tommy was questioning all the reasons why Alfie had attended his home – and already the sick feeling was beginning to knot in his stomach. He had forgotten all about the favour he had owed Alfie in return for the act he had taken out against Verity all that time ago.  His mind was already racing like horses at Ascot, running over the possible outcomes.

He was aware his smart, polished black shoes were trudging a little quicker than usual over the unlevel gravel, anticipating yet grimacing at the thought approaching the front door. However, before he could come close enough – they were already open for him, and the man previously occupying his rather worried thoughts was exiting with a rather swift step about his gait.

"Alfie." Tommy pressed, halting the Londoner with a haste. It was getting hard to hide his apprehension – hoping and praying Alfie had not let anything slip to Verity.

Before Tommy could get another word in, although he was not sure what that word would even be, Alfie displayed a rather strained, wane smile that seemed to tease an onslaught of nervous things his brain could not concoct at that moment. Shrugging his long coat firmly back onto his shoulders, Alfie was already skirting sideways towards his car.

"It's... it's alright, Tommy," Alfie cleared his throat, cockney tones covering an apprehensive underlay, "I'll catch y' another time, yeah? I've got to go."

It felt like the strangest encounter, the two men could usually argue and talk for hours on end – yet as Tommy watched the usual brutish and bold Alfie drive back down the long scope of the driveway, his heart felt brittle, his gut pitted with an illness that could only be akin to a child forced into the dentist's office alone.

He dared to turn back and face the house. No words had confirmed that Alfie had said anything to Verity – yet the flighty movements, the need for Alfie to flee this place gave Tommy an aura of a man who wanted to escape the lionesses' den, lest he be caught in her jaws too.

Looking overheard, Tommy's ocean blue eyes noted the tumble of grey clouds rolling further over the top of Arrow House, like a monster crawling along, and judging by the deep temperamental greys hidden in the cottony texture of the clouds, it would be bringing a hell of a storm with it.

Trying to shake the feeling of fearful anxiety, Tommy stepped through the doorway of his home, which right now – could not feel anything less like a home. He could not hesitate any longer, not knowing if his worst fears were about to be realised. The hallway was dull, the darkening skies having starved it of it's usual warm natural light. His only guidance was the strong, yellow cast of light coming from his office.

And in that direction, his feet carried him.

-

A shaky hand clutched the crystallised art deco style gin glass with a vice like grip, it was if the very shock that made her tremble also locked her body into such a tension, she feared she would snap.

From outside, her heightened senses listened past the crackling fire and for the sounds of Tommy's car door slamming shut.

Her heart was practically beating in her throat, she swallowed past the tension – shifting her clenched jaw and forcing down a sip of the gin that she kidded herself might calm her down. Her ears listened to the muffled exchange of only a few words. Alfie sounded nervous, although she couldn't decipher his exact quotes, she could sense the anxiety dripping from every single vowel. He probably had just as much idea of what Verity was going to do when she finally set her sights on Tommy Shelby. The next few moments were filled with silence, before the sound of a car starting at the wheels crunching and crackling of the chips of gravel.

It was strange how in such a moment of little sound, little disturbance – the former psychologist found her mind swirling and spinning out of control with chaos. In moments like this, she usually found her clarity and way forwards, but right now with the impending thought of coming face to face with the bastard that ruined her, she had no real composed plan.

Even though, she sat here like a woman, dressed like a woman in her fine clothes and her heels – Verity knew full well the next few minutes, when faced with Tommy, would be acted upon with an animalistic impulse and no regard for anything else.

It was too late for composure, for reasoning. That melted away the moment she recognised everything he had swiped from under her feet.

Her thoughts faded again as she tuned into the sounds of his footsteps against the hard hallway floor just the other side of the office wall. It was easy to sense the tension in the air, Verity was a psychologist and had some idea of the apprehension that lingered on the other side of that wall. There was a pause for a few seconds, before his footsteps started up again – pacing closer, albeit slowly and more gingerly this time round.

Her vision found it's way to the door, focusing on the shape of him first before she managed to collect any details. He had a look on his face, one she'd not seen before if she could recall – he looked lost, even more drained of colour than usual. Like a kid that had played out to late and realised he was going to be in trouble with his parents. His brain seemed to be ticking over time, for his lips parted as if there were some words to come but they never did.

He sighed, and instinctively – reached for the inside of his jacket like it was second nature, akin to breathing or blinking.

Verity's gaze immediately fell away, chewing at her lip. She wanted him to at least say something first.  It was be stupid to assume he hadn't picked up on the fact something was off about her.

So, after a one rather tremulous draw on his cigarette – in typical Shelby fashion, Tommy fought past the sickening feeling that gathered in the base of his stomach, and cut to the chase.

"What did Alfie say to you, Verity?"

The words had her lift her head, a look of pure resentment burning in those usually sweet green eyes. Already, her very body shook once again with the rage-incited tension that had hold of seemingly every muscle in her body. Carefully, she leaned forwards and set her gin glass down on the table that rested between the two sofas in the office.

"How about you tell me what you think he said to me, Tommy." She retorted, her voice colder than black ice.

The returned statement made the Blinder look away, and Verity read through his emotionless picture of a face at all the shame, the embarrassment and the guilt. A new anger coursed through her, he couldn't even give her the decency of an honest response, not once. It was all hiding away behind the wall of an arrogant, selfish and attempted 'emotionless' gangster. The kettle she had been trying to keep from boiling over, just surpassed it's limits.

Flying up from her seat, Verity grabbed the gin glass from the table and hurled it across the room – the alcoholic contents flicking wet droplets before the glass connected with the wall just to the side of Tommy, and splintered into a thousand shards. The sound of it caused him to flinch, but even then, just slightly.

"You are a fucking bastard!" she screamed, the type of raw scream that came from the diaphragm and throat and anyone who heard it could tell it carried endless pain.  This pain of it had lassoed Tommy's attention, and now, whether he liked it or not – he was listening – and looking straight at her.

"You took my business from me!" she added in less of a scream, but her unadulterated anger had somewhat been replaced by unimaginable grief and sadness instead. "You just couldn't not have your own way for once, could you!?"

Tommy's eyes felt wet, glassy as he looked at her. All those moments he had looked at her before, when the guilt had washed over him like a powerful wave – and he had been able to run, and hide. Not this time – not only did the guilt rush over it, but it dragged him under. The type that shackled him to the very ground on which he stood, unable to run, hide or look away. He had come to face what he had done, and it hurt more than anything he had experienced in a long time.

The last time he had shed tears like this... was when he had lost his Grace.

"Verity..." his low tones wobbled like a tight rope walker about the topple to their death.

"No!" she lashed back, she was still stood metres away yet for how fearful and embarrassed Tommy was feeling, she might as well of just been stood shouting in his face. "There's nothing you can say to undo this, nothing at all." She turned away at last, dragging her fingers through her dark brunette hair, wrapping her shaky arms around herself, and standing present to the window behind his desk. Tommy Shelby looked on, the silhouette of her figure against the grey sky outside reminded him of one of the days when they had first met.

How different she looked then – standing tall, and proud against a grisly grey London day... Compared to now, hunched, bedraggled, shaking as she stood in front the monotonous grey backdrop.

Another stake of indescribable guilt drove through his heart upon the full acknowledgement that he had caused her every inch of this pain. He felt foolish for ever thinking he could keep this from her forever.

But now his pain spread through his chest, realising this was the begging of the end. His first taste of happiness in years, about to be lost, reduced to ashes by another one of his stupid plights. Desperation fled into the man; an emotion not widely experienced. It was usually him listening to others beg and plead.

"I did it because I wanted you to show your talent-" he fumbled over his words slightly, a far sight from his usual composed manner. "You didn't agree, I couldn't see any other way-" he watched on as Verity shook her head, her face was hidden but he could only imagine the scoff of disbelief.

"I was happy doing what I was doing. My job, for fucks sake." Verity span on her heels to face him, "Face it. You just didn't like that a woman said no for once. That someone turned you down." She spat back, her words stinging like venom with their truth as they fell upon Tommy's ears.

"Not only did you ruin my career, but you made me lose my home, and my family." She added, " And you think explaining that you only wanted to showcase my 'talent' is going to fix any of that!?"

The office fell into a deathly silence, as Tommy's brain, panting on desperation – began to soak up the fact that there really was not anything he could say to reverse any of his wrongdoing.

He'd lost her.

Looking up at this realisation, he was trying so hard to mask any signs of upset. But his glassy and reddened eyes betrayed him. Verity felt some smugness at this display of emotion, he should be crying because he fucked up majorly. All this time, it had been her tears pouring down her face, at each painful hurdle – whist he had onlooked with stoic composure, the secret puppeteer controlling the next motions of her life. It was about time he was made to feel the pain she had.

"What about us, Verity?" he blurted out, "What about our feelings?" He knew he was going to lose her as his singer but now there were more important things present between them.

"There are none, not anymore." She shut him down, "No matter how much I was beginning to care for you, Thomas Shelby, this has destroyed every element of that." She wanted to make herself clear on that front too. Her heart had been well and truly broken, and she hated herself for showing any recent fragility around him. For sleeping with him, for beginning to love him. It sickened her.

With nothing else to say, and slightly proud of herself that he hadn't beaten him to a pulp – Verity paced out of the office with her head down. She was not entirely sure where she would be able to go for tonight, but it needed to be miles away from this place.

Heading upstairs, Verity made her way into the bedroom suite she had been sleeping in less as of late, considering she had somewhat migrated into Tommy's room as of late. Her head was hurting now, and going over the constant events of all she had exhausted her energy onto made her feel ill and drained. All she could focus on was packing up the majority of her things into the cases she owned, and stacking them up in the corridor.

Her packing hadn't gone unnoticed – when the shouting had broke out, Francis had sent young Charlie up to his room and told him to close the door. Now the young boy peeked through the gap in his ajar bedroom door, tears in his glassy eyes as his young mind was able to process the fact that another angel was about to leave his life.

As Verity made her way into the hallway, closing the door of the spare room suite – her back turned and eyelashes spiked wet with tears – she felt some arms wrap tightly around her hips, turning as young Charlie practically crushed his face into her stomach and began to weep uncontrollably. If her heart wasn't already broken, it was now thrown to be mauled by the wolves.

"Don't leave us, Verity." Charlie sobbed into her blouse. "Don't go. You make me and daddy happy."

His words hurt her more almost as much as his father's insolence had, and Verity was struggling to maintain composure for the sake of the young lad.

"I'm sorry, Charlie." She whispered, kneeling down as she held him as tightly as she could, her fingertips gently rustling through his hair in a motherly fashion. "I'm so sorry."

After a few more minutes, Verity pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and cupped his face in her hands, smiling through the pain at the fact of the teary eyed little boy in front of her. She saw so much of Tommy in him and it just made her pray that he didn't end up on the same destructive path as his father.

"I will try and write to you Charlie." She consoled him, not an empty promise either. Verity didn't feel like just walking out of his life and disappearing forever, not when he had been such a ray of light in her life at the darkest moments.

She forced herself to let go of the young Shelby boy, collecting her things and head downstairs. She quietly request Francis to call her a cab as she waited with her things in the hallway, hoping magically the car would appear in 10 seconds flat so she wouldn't have to deal with this heartache anymore.

She waited a couple of minutes in lonesome silence, the house deathly quiet.

"You're really leaving?" Came Tommy's voice suddenly, as she turned to face the sight of him. His eyes were no longer wet with fresh tears, but the betrayal of reddened marks on his face gave away the earlier onslaught of emotion. He was back to the Tommy he always was now, reserved, uptight – private. He showed no sign of any amplified emotions on his face at all.

"What? You didn't expect me to after everything that's happened?" she laughed sarcastically, "Even I didn't put you down to be that stupid." She scorned him bravely, figuring she could and would after all the shit he had put her through. Her green eyes then flickered back to the floor, as she tapped her heel impatiently – listening out for the sound of a car.

"No... I just wished you could've stayed." He replied, clearing his throat. Facing away from him, Verity quietly swallowed and listened on silently.

"No amount of apologies are going to fix this, you've made that clear." Tommy then added from a short distance behind her, "But for what it's worth, I am sorry. Really fucking sorry. I made a mistake, a mistake I'll now have to live with for the rest of my life." His monotonous voice sounded laboured none the less, and his short sighs expelled some pain in hopes of keeping back further tears.

"I won't lie, you were the best thing that happened to me and Charlie, and I hate to see that reduced to nothing."

She sighed to herself silently and shook her head – he only had himself to blame for all of this.

Verity's saviour came in the form of the loud hum of an engine, and tyres sounding on the carriage driveway. She pushed one of the two heavy doors open and collected her cases in her hands firmly.

The wind blustered in from the outside, sweeping into the hall with it's bracing cold. Taking one final look back, Verity glanced over at Tommy – watching the way his stare didn't dare ghost from her. Little did she know, but he was taking in the details – even the minor ones. The shine of her lipstick, the feminine curve of her jaw, the way of lustrous brunette hair fell over her shoulders. He was going to miss the sweet scent of her bergamot and fig perfume on his pillowcases.

He was going to miss her.

She turned away, without another word. There was little left to say. No dramatic, story worthy sudden change of heart – love conquering all and what not. No, this was a woman who had lost it all. Her whole word changed by one man and ruined by it all the same.

Everything she knew had been reduced to ashes. But as Verity exited Arrow House on that blustery afternoon, her cases kindly loaded into the car by the driver – she took one last look at the place that had been her home for so many months.

Could the Phoenix ever rise from these ashes? Especially considering Verity felt that would remain hot and painful for a long time to come.

-

A/N; I Am so sorry for the delay on this, I am also so sorry to all those who have been waiting so long for Verity and Tommy to get together and then I just.... Snatched it from you. Don't worry, there are still lots of interesting plot developments to come, and we'll see the return of some old faces! 😉 Thanks for tuning in!