WOUNDS THAT NEVER HEAL || tommy shelby x reader

chapter seven

It wasn't so much as awkward as it was unfamiliar. With all of the Shelby's needing to work, you had most of the daytime free for yourself. The day after the fight, you watched the four of them drive off in a car, off to the centre of Birmingham for business.

That left you and Tommy in the house.

You weren't concerned about staying with him. Despite the fight that Polly had put up to spend more time with you this week, Tommy refused his family a holiday. You'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly pissed off. He'd lost his wife less than two weeks before, but he was still stampeding forward with business as usual.

You knew that it was a coping mechanism—a way to move forward and mourn. You'd never seen Tommy struck with grief until now, but you knew he wasn't accustomed to it, even thought he'd been through a war.

In reality, it wasn't just you and Tommy. He had a staff, running about the house after his every want and need, as well. Mary was the equivalent to an assistant, bringing him tea and whiskey whenever he asked. Paula was the nanny, looking after Charlie when Tommy was too occupied to do it himself.

You still hadn't met him—Tommy's son.

That was the first thing on your list to get out of the way.

You didn't expect yourself to be resentful to him—he was just a child, Tommy and Grace's child. You didn't doubt him to be beautiful. You didn't doubt that he would have his father's striking blue eyes and his mother's thin, Irish nose.

You spent your morning talking to Paula and Mary in the kitchen. They both made good conversation, and you thought it must have been a nice change to the usual bossy nature of their employer.

"I gave him under-brewed tea my first day here," Mary spoke. She wasn't a young woman, probably just beyond middle aged. Her hair was greying slightly, but her smile was warm. "That's when I learned that he wouldn't drink anything that wasn't brewed for five minutes or more, with only so much as a splash of milk,"

"Strong tea for a cold man," You replied. "Makes sense," Mary regarded you for a moment, before she couldn't stop herself from letting out a laugh. You saw Paula perk up to your left.

"How long have you known Mr. Shelby, then?" She asked innocently. You tried not to send her a scowl. Mary and Paula were in the dark when it came to you, obviously. Besides the scene they'd no doubt witnessed the day before, they had no idea your relation to the Shelby's.

"Two years," You said, trying to come off unbothered.

"Two years?" Paula questioned, raising her brows at you. "But you're so young—and a businesswoman, as well!"

"A lot can happen in two years," You said, bluntly. More bluntly than you'd meant to. Paula immediately retreated, her face dropping slightly. She was older than you by ten years or so, but still young at heart. You didn't get any bad feelings from her. "How's Charlie?" You changed the subject.

"He still calls for his mother, but Mr. Shelby is an excellent father," She sent you a small smile. "You can come and feed him with me later, if you'd like?" You shook your head at her once.

"I'll ask Tommy before I meet him," You hadn't seen him since arriving back at the house. As you'd gone up the stairs to your room, after talking to the others, you'd stopped on the landing. He was further down the hall, cradling Charlie to sleep in his arms through the doorway to the nursery at the end of the corridor.

He'd turned to you, utterly silent, Charlie almost fast asleep.

You'd regarded him sadly, before walking into your room and clicking the door shut.