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Lucille
Lucille knew that Tommy would be fine. When you love someone that much, you believe they're invincible- incapable of being touched in a bad way. Though that had already been proved untrue, Tommy had survived the war, albeit not untouched. But he lived to tell the tale, just as Lucille had asked.
She prayed that he would get through this. Not just for her. But for the baby.
Lucille had found out that she was pregnant not long after she had settled back into the silent life in the farm. She had cried at first- the baby had a chance of being without a father. But she saw it as a blessing, a reminder of the happy times that she had spent with Tommy. She would love this baby with her whole heart, more than anything she had ever loved before.
At four months, Lucille had just started showing. And at four months, her husband also showed.
"Lucille."
He had crept up behind her as she struggled to feed the chickens as the swarmed around her feet. Adam's arms were on her waist as she sprinkled the feed, jumping as she felt his touch.
"Adam. You're home." She stuttered out as she faced him. "We didn't know where you were."
"I've been given leave. I had a week in Paris and came home." He said.
At the mention of Paris, her heart dropped. It reminded her of passed months. But it also reminded her of the fact that he had come home to her and her father second. Thanks to Amélie, Lucille had learned that babe woman that he had a child with, was in Paris.
He reached for her hand, taking it in his with a smile. But Lucille pulled it away, stepping backward. She shook her head.
"Don't." She whispered.
"Lucille I-" Adam shook his head, confused as he reached for her again.
"I read the letters. I know." Lucille said, and he stopped shortly, mouth opening and closing. "I'm not as bothered as I was at first. But I know."
"I'm sorry, Lucille. I really am." Adam didn't even bother trying to convince her that it was false.
"So am I. I'm sorry that I didn't realise, that I let thoughts of you hold me back." She said, her chin wobbling slightly.
Lucille looked to him as he stared at her. He had a crutch beneath his right arm, his leg was broken. She felt awful. He had been fighting at war and she met him with confrontations and a lie.
"I have to tell you." She said, not allowing her eyes to meet his.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant." She breathed out, watching as his face fell and heated.
"Who's the father?" He asked, the words spitting from his lips.
"His name is Tommy. He was an English soldier." She said, as Adam began to turn away, storming toward the house. "You can't be angry right now!"
"Why not? You're pregnant, Lucille!" He screamed back and she glared at his hypocrisy.
"And you have a four year old child!" She cried. "You have no right to be angry, you bastard!"
Lucille caught her breathing, slowing it as she calmed herself. She looked at him her face softening as she saw the man that she had unhappily married those years ago. "I will allow you into my home out of respect for your service. But I will not stand to be with you any longer."
