𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟗

EVELYN WOULD NEVER tire of waking up to the relaxing sound of rain outside – however, she would become irritated waking to the crisp wind blowing through the bedroom window that Alfie left open at night.

Sinking further under the thick sheets, Evelyn reached out towards where she was expecting her husband to still be laying, only to groan when she realised he wasn't. Peeking over the edge of the brown blanket – her eyes adjusted to the light streaming through the open curtains, searching for Alfie.

"Alf?" She called at the same time the bedroom door opened – revealing the man she was looking for.

She intently watched as he strolled in, one hand tightly holding his cane while the other grasped a tray – placing the silver platter on the end of the bed before he climbed back under the covers, pecking Evelyn's lips.

"Mornin' love," he greeted, helping her into a sitting position before reaching for the cutlery at the edge of the bed to place it on her lap. "Thought I'd make yer' breakfast but all we have is fuckin' fruit and bread so I made toast and sliced apples."

Evelyn pecked under Alfie's jaw, trying to lean over her round stomach for the toast – causing Alfie to chuckle as he decided to help her eat, holding the bread towards her as she took a large bite.

"Just about ready to burst, yer' are, yeah. I reckon by tonight we're goin' to have baby Solomons in our arms."

Evelyn let out a tiny groan at the thought of going through labour, having witnessed the amount of pain her sister went through when giving birth to her nephew Karl. She had spent the past five months in London – planning on giving birth in the city where she fell in love with Alfie while being overly excited about the prospect of having a child. However, now that she was on the verge of giving birth nothing had ever seemed more unappealing. 

"I should probably call Polly and ask her to come over, I've been having what Maggie calls Braxton Hicks all of yesterday – she said it's a sign that I'll give birth soon."

Alfie hummed at her words, "we should call Maggie as well, make sure there's a real nurse here."

"You saying that Pol isn't a real nurse?"

Evelyn let out a pretend gasp, placing her hand on her collar bone as Alfie shook his head fondly before wrapping his arm around Evelyn's waist – tugging her closer so their upper bodies were pressed together. He pecked her lips before placing a slice of apple between them.

"Your brother called," Alfie admitted, watching as Evelyn raised a brow in silent question as she continued to chew. "Said he was involved in politics now. That brother of yer's is fuckin' stupid, gettin' involved with fascist bastards."

Evelyn frowned as she tried to figure out what Tommy was doing getting involved in politics and dabbling in fascism – knowing that she'd have to call and ask him. But nonetheless, she pushed the idea to the back of her mind as she continued to eat the breakfast Alfie had made her. 

By the time she had finished the last slice of toast, Alfie had placed the silver tray on the bedside table next to him before he tilted her chin up with his thumb. He kissed her tenderly, his rough skin ghosting over her soft skin – before she deepened it. 

Evelyn's hand wrapped around the back of Alfie's neck, tugging his face impossibly closer to her own – before he briefly pulled away, letting them both catch their breath as he littered gentle kisses down the side of her jaw and neck until he lightly sucked on the skin just above her breast bone.

Evelyn knew that she would never get lost in another mans kiss quite like she got lost in Alfie's. Each kiss felt like their first, from the way her heart skipped a few beats to the way she could never seem to get as close as she wanted to be to him - a kiss where every inch of her body became alight each time her lips met his. 

"I love you," he muttered, lifting his head to look her directly in the eyes. 

One would argue that Alfie Solomons was a mess of the man he once was – but to Evelyn he was the perfect disaster. He was the bright morning sun that lit up the world with a golden hue, he was the calm before and after the storm that made the waves become harsh before settling down. He was human. He was hers.

"I love you," she whispered back, pecking his lips before turning back to the array of food in-front of her. "And I also love my food."

Alfie let out a bellowing laugh before he tried to shift off the bed without his body protesting against his movements – helping Evelyn move the tray beside her so she could properly reach the food herself. He tried to pay no attention to the way his hands shook as he gripped the tray - causing the metal cutlery to clink against the glass plates.

His body ached with every movement and he hated the way his skin was almost always inflamed, but he never let it show – in part because he was a stubborn prick who didn't want his wife to know, but also because he was terrified. Alfie had spent his entire life not being afraid of death, he liked to think that it was what made him tough - that if death didn't scare him, nothing would.

But he was wrong. Death terrified even a man as rugged as Alfie Solomons. 

He was afraid to leave this world and have nobody remember him for who he truly was. He was petrified that his daughter that was soon to be born would never get to experience him as a father and would only hear about him through tales that would be told to her. 

"Alf," Evelyn interrupted his spiraling thoughts. "I think my water just broke."