Meh.

1.b

"Molly, what's got you in this mood, yeah?" He asked me. His baritone voice sent shockwaves of emotion through me. I could barely handle the sight of him in front of me with his greatcoat on and his dark top on is ashy brown hair. I was literally a hairsbreadth away from falling apart at the seams. I couldn't help but think of his baby. Our baby. A baby that we had made, intentionally or not, together.

     "Nothing's got me in a mood. I've just been thinking is all," I replied. Alfie narrowed his eyes at me, crossing his arms at the same time.

     "Excuse me if I don't believe you, Molly. You've been avoidin' me since I've come back, yeah? I come back, hopin' to see your lovely face, yeah? And I come home to you're little game of 'hide-and-go-seek,' yeah? I don't appreciate that, Molly. You've hurt my feelin's, Molly!" His explosive anger startled me. It knocked tears that had been held in by sheer will loose and there was no turning back now. The floodgates had opened and the tears were steadily streaming.

     "Oh, Alfie. How I wish I could tell you," I sobbed. He stilled, and slowly his mask of anger transformed into that of curiosity and worry.

     "What's wrong, Mol. Please. Tell me. How can I make this better for you, love?" He took a step closer and gently grasped my shoulders. Tilting my chin up, he stared me down with worry palpable in the air. "Mol?"

     "I can't marry you Alfie."

     "What? Why the fuck not?!" Alfie's grip had tightened only slightly before they dropped completely down to his sides. "Is it because of the bakery? Is that it? Is it because I've been spendin' too much time working at the bakery and handlin' the tracks? Love, I can focus more on you if that's what is. We can go legit, it'll take some time, yeah? But we can get there, loves. I know it, please don't say that you can't marry me, aye?" I could feel the desperation in his voice and a dull and painful ache had formed in my womb. Most days were okay, but there were still days where it was physically painful when I heard Alfie's voice. Instinctively, my hand went to rub my nonexistent bump and I knew he ad picked up on it.

     "I lost her, Alfie," I sobbed. "I'm not the same woman you knew and loved. I was pregnant. With your child, Alfie. I was so happy and I couldn't wait till you had come home. Oh, how I wished you were here, Alfie."

     His face had frozen, you could see my words processing in his brain. When he finally understood what I was saying, he took a tentative step towards me. "A baby? We were gonna have a fuckin' baby?" I gave a hesitant nod as he came closer. He was various, as if I were easily spooked and would tuck tail and run.

     I allowed him to come near me, so close that our breaths intermingled. "I was gonna write you, but I wanted to surprise you," I whispered. His chest was but a hairsbreadth away from my face and I couldn't help but bury myself in his presence. "I wanted to write to you about the baby everyday, about all the changes, and the little things. And then. . . it all stopped. Oh how I wanted to write to you, to call you back and be with me."

     "Mol," Alfie said, "it'll be okay. We can try for more later on, right? Please, just don't fuckin push me away again like you're trying' do now, yeah?" I nodded against his chest, tears creating a wet spot on his cream colored work shirt. His hand came to rest on the back of my has he pressed a conformational kiss on the crown of my head. "It'll be all alright, yeah? It'll be okay," he muttered, more to himself than anything.