March // John Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 46

The soft chime of the grandfather clock wakes me at three, and I gently untangle myself from John's arms, trying not to wake him. But as soon as I leave the bed he stirs and sits upright, his muscles taut as he leans back against the headboard.

"I'll be home tonight," he says.

"Okay."

He says, "I don't want to ask too much of you," and the anxious knot in my stomach snaps.

"And what exactly is too much?"

He reaches for me, stilling my hands tying my dress around my waist, and pulling me back onto the bed. "One day, this will all be over," he murmurs, kissing me.

I squeeze my eyes shut. How can he think our dilemma will ever reach a resolution? Is he expecting me to be wrong about my infertility, for our luck to magically change?

"No, John, it won't."

I pull away and stand to my feet again, and he watches as I pull back my hair.

"Perhaps you should stay with your mum tonight," he says. "Get a break from all this."

"If that's what you want."

"I want to be with my fucking wife," he says. "I want it to be good."

"Good?" I ask, turning to face him. "You want good? I moved in here, leaving my mother all alone. That's how badly I wanted to be a good wife for you. And now you're telling me to leave, you're thinking I'm too weak to be around you and your brothers."

"You've already been fucking attacked," he says as he stands to his feet. "Those men that came to our wedding, they were trying to get to you. None of this would have fucking happened if I hadn't involved you in my life."

My eyes burn. "If you regret marrying me, just say it. I'm not strong enough to take on your world. I can't give you a baby. Any other reasons you haven't told me?"

He blinks, and then smiles softly, letting out a gentle laugh in relief. "That what this is about?" He asks, stepping towards me.

But his laughter slices into me bone deep. I step away. "Tell Polly I'll see her when she drops the kids off."

I make to leave the room.

"You're not walking the streets alone at three in the fucking morning," he says.

"Watch me," I reply, closing the bedroom door behind me.

I'm fastening my gloves in the hallway, coat and shoes on, as he runs down the stairs in a shirt and trousers. He grabs his coat and hat, hopping on one foot trying to tie his laces, but I unlatch the front door.

"Fucking wait, would you?" He says.

The night air stings at my face but I walk, determined. Shame burns my neck. It brings tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat.

"Fucking wait," he calls out.

I roll my eyes but continue walking. I'm ready to completely stonewall him until I can escape into the bakery just a few doors ahead — I don't want him to see me if I cry. I don't want him to think me any weaker than he already does.

But he takes me and spins me around, locking his arm around the small of my back and holding me tightly against him. He frowns, holding my jaw with a gloved hand as he forces me to look at him.

"I'd love a fucking baby," he says, and I try to pull away from him again, but he holds me too tightly. "I'd love your baby. But I don't mind going without. When I picture my life with you, I see us. And the kids I've already got. The ones that fucking adore you, that you look after so well. You're all I want." He caresses my face. "But I can't ask you to live this life for me."

"You already fucking did, John," I tell him. "Remember? You asked me to marry you. I said yes. We took our vows — for better or worse. I will never ask you to turn your back on your family," I say solemnly. "I hate knowing you could be hurt. I'm terrified of anything happening to you. But you wouldn't be you if you were anyone else. And John Shelby is the man I fell in love with. He's the one I want to be with. I don't want to sleep away from you any more than I have to. But," I say with a deep breath, "If you want me to move back home, I will."

"Of course not. I just don't want you to resent me," he says softly.

A small, gentle laugh escapes my own throat. "And to think I'm worried about you resenting me."

He takes my hand in his own. "I love you," he tells me. "Everything about you. Just as you are."

We kiss, and for a moment, nothing else exists.

"I'll walk the kids down when they're awake," he says, still holding me.

"And I'll walk them back this evening," I whisper into him.

"No you fucking won't," he says. "I'll come and get you."

I roll my eyes. "Somehow, I managed the entire time you were gone."

"And I'll be having words with Pol about that," he mutters.

"I'm not as fragile as you think."

"I don't think you're fragile," he whispers, running a hand across my hair. "I think you're very important to me. My wife."

"I need to go and make bread," I tell him, in between him kissing me a hundred times.

His lips smile against my own. "Don't bring any of that shit home," he teases, and I hit him on the shoulder.

He stands and watches with adoration in his eyes as I twist the key in the lock.

"Fucking love you," he tells me.

I smile at him. "Mr Shelby," I say, nodding my head, an echo of our former greeting and farewell.

His eyes shine as he replies with a nod of his own. "Mrs Shelby."