Yellow Roses // Thomas Shelby

Chspter Fourteen

February 17, 1915

My Dearest Natalia,

Polly's letter arrived a day before yours, I read about what you're going through in her letter. I can say I cannot be happier for you at this moment.

The night I told you I loved you was the greatest night of my life. I could spend hours talking about how much I enjoyed that night, touching your body like it was the last thing I would ever do. I've missed your touch since I left it. I miss you more than anything.

Polly told me she is sure it will be a boy. She said that it would look more like you than anything. That is going to be wonderful. I'll have two beautiful things to look at every day when I come home. I'll have two things that will bring me joy every day and help me forget this fucking hellhole I'm in now.

I'm staying in the same place until the war ends. Arthur and John are going to be stationed all over the place. I'm stuck here, in the tunnels with Freddy and a man named Barney. You've met Freddy before. Im lucky I'm not stuck with any idiotic bastards that make the days go by slower than they have to.

It's surreal to me that I'll come home to you and a son. I'll come home to something we created together. It will be a part of us that we will never forget. It'll be something that stays with us forever.

You know what kind of business I'm in. You know how gruesome it can get. Nothing compares to this war. I've seen men shot right in front of me. I've seen bodies scattered out twenty meters. I've seen heads on the ground with nothing attached to it. It's nothing like what we did back home.

I'm sorry I'm not writing to you as much. The post comes once a month in the middle of the night so we won't get spotted. I'm trying not to miss my chance to reply to every single one of your letters. Every time I see your name, it gives me a purpose not to give up. Believe me, I want nothing more than to give up.

I'm still sick of this haircut. Even if nobody sees it. I want the longer hair I had back. I want your fingers to run through my hair like they did when I told you I loved you. I want to see you. I hate it here.

It feels like this is a never ending war. I've only been here for seven months and it feels like seven decades. This is the first time I've missed your birthday since I've known you. I still feel awful about it. Even if I said it in the last letter I wrote you, I want you to know it.

I feel like I'm losing my mind without you here. Polly says you've been snappier since we've all left, and I can believe that. She said that you lose your temper more often than you used to. She blames the war for that. She says that you need me to stay sane.

Since I won't be there when our son arrives, I feel like I don't have any say in what his name will be. I haven't even begun to think about how much responsibility you'll have on your shoulders. Polly tells me you have a house now, but you stay with her most nights because you're scared. My Natalia wouldn't ever be scared, so I don't believe her.

I read about you coming to France in the paper from four months ago. You're probably already here. I wish I could see you, hold you even. I want this to be over.

I am so proud of you, Natalia. I'm so proud that you have come this far in your career. I'm proud of you because you amaze me every time you're in the paper. I love receiving Polly's packages with postcards of you in it. She has also sent me a few of you smiling at her. I would do anything to see your smile again.

Every night I pray Germany will wave a white flag and surrender. I pray that I will come home to you and our child and live a happy life away from all this shit.

I love you.

Thomas Shelby.

-

April 30 1915

I sat in the hospital bed as I read his letter, holding the child in my arms. I hate how every letter arrives months after we write them. I've already sent him the letter saying his son was born on April 30th, 1915 and was named Calongero Thomas Shelby. An Italian name like he suggested.

"Let me see the little thing," Ada came into the room, smiling as she saw the child in my arms. I handed it to her, making myself comfortable on the bed. Ada cradled the baby in her arms as he whined a bit. Polly was amazed too.

"What is his name, dear?" Polly asked as she played with the baby. I sat up wiping the hair out of my face.

"Thomas and I agreed on something more Italian because, well," I motioned to the baby's darker skin and black hair. "Calongero Thomas." I said, giving up on sitting up. I just laid in the bed like a dead fucking fish.

"If he's a Shelby, he'll be different." She told me, looking at him, then looking at Ada who was still playing with my kid.

"If he's a Vallelonga, he has no family." I told her. Her face softened. "Calongero Thomas Shelby."

Polly sat beside me on the bed, taking my hand in hers. I couldn't look her in the eyes. Not being like this. My head was all fucked up and emotional. My moods were swinging any way they could at any second. I didn't want to say something stupid.

"Thomas is going to Marry you when he comes home. You will be a Shelby." Polly told me. She looked at me, he face going back to her regular stare. "Hell, you've been a Shelby for fourteen years."