twenty four.

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"And if I roll over and take a deep breath, I look almost ready to pop." Rowan narrated down the phone line.

"Darling I can't wait." Polly seemed genuinely happy for her.

"I just want to know if your prediction is right." Rowan told her, watching her bare stomach and waited for movement.

"I've never been wrong before." Polly spoke.

Rowan didn't respond, as she was so deeply focused on her own stomach to wait and see if she saw any type of sign her baby was there.

"Ro?" Polly broke her spell.

"Hi, yes. Sorry, I thought he was about to move."

"Don't worry about it darling, when I was pregnant with my little girl I couldn't bare to take my eyes off that bump all night. Just to see what she was doing or if she could hear me." Polly added. "Enjoy it Rowan, that joy won't last forever. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

The dial tone cut off and Rowan hung the receiver back on the hook.

She hadn't been back home to Birmingham in almost three months, and she was beginning to miss it. She missed seeing John and Mariah stressed as their kids ran rings around them. She missed having Finn around, looking for something to do and ending up helping her with housework. She missed Polly, she missed them all. All except for Tommy. His words had cut too deep for her to let it go.

Arthur had been back up and down from London practically every other day for three months now. She could see the exhaustion behind his fragile smile. He'd lose his train of thought so easily it was becoming difficult to get a coherent sentence out of him. He'd lie awake at night, his head gently leaning on her belly as he gazed out of the window with nothing in his mind but aching. He wanted it all to stop.

On cue, Arthur stumbled through the door of her dingy flat, ricocheting off the door frame like a loose bullet from a broken gun.

"Darling." Was all he could get out, his eyes widening and attuning to the bright light of the lamp by her desk.

"Arthur." Rowan sighed. "Have you done snow again?" She added emphasis to her disapproval.

"I've had a long day, I just wanted to relax." He explained slowly.

"The baby will be here soon Arthur, I need you to stop taking it baby." She cooed manipulatively, sitting up and kneeling on the bed, cupping his cheeks and twirling a strand of his greasy hair on her manicured hand.

"I have." He lied, swatting her hand away. Rowan sighed in frustration and flopped back down on the bed gently, not to hurt her growing bump.

Lying down next to her, neither party dared to speak up. Arthur knew what he was doing was damaging what he had with Rowan, but he couldn't stop. It wasn't a desire anymore, it was a dirty craving that was always at the back of his mind. He constantly had a small jar of snow on him, with another one spare in his coat pocket for emergencies.

"I'm scared, Ro." He shattered the silence has he hand patted around the bedsheets looking for hers. "I don't want to be a shit dad. Not like my own."

"Arthur — " She sat up and rolled onto her side, getting a good look at his gaunt face. "You're not a shit father and you never will be. It's normal to be scared you know."

"I don't want him growing up disappointed in me. Seeing how fucked in the head his father is."

"Then don't let him." She whispered, toying with the tips of his fingers. "Quit the snow. Teach him what it means to be brave."

"I'm trying darling, god I am fucking trying." He sighed, reaching his breaking point. "It's the only thing that keeps me awake on the trips back and forth."

Rowan paused for a moment, knowing what she was about to say could start another world war.

"Then let me come home."

Arthur wanted nothing more. He wanted to carry her over the threshold of their home — pregnant and all — before sitting her down in the living room and making her tea. He wanted to see his child to be famous with all the mothers of Small Heath, who would approach Rowan on the street and congratulate her on the baby. It just wasn't safe.

Thoughts of Chester trying to hurt Rowan and the baby plagued Arthur's sober head, one of the main reasons he tried to stay so high all of the time. He couldn't trust that man as far as he could throw him, and he didn't want to give Chester the opportunity to cause damage on a golden platter by moving her back home.

"That's a long pause." She commented with a chuckle as she watched him bore holes in the ceiling with his stare.

"It's not safe." Was all he could choke out. "Home, it's isn't safe."

"Everyone says that, but no one will tell me why." She sighed, laying back down next to him with her head on his shoulder.

"Your dad — " He began but she shut him down.

"Don't you dare reference to Chester Campbell as my dad. He's dead to me."

"Well he's back. He's got a vendetta this time, he wants to take us all down individually." Arthur's blood began to boil.

"Small Heath is a big place Arthur, it's not guaranteed he'll find me and hurt me." She tried to bargain.

"If I put you in a position where he could hurt you, and he did, I couldn't live with myself." Arthur explained sombrely. "He's not touching my wife, and he's not touching my son."

Rowan's heart jumped a little when he mentioned wife. They may be in love, and she may well be pregnant, but it never once crossed her mind he thought that much of her. Not after his recent behaviours anyway.

"Your wife?" Rowan tiptoed around the subject as she smirked up at him.

"My soon-to-be beautiful fucking wife — " He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. " — and my handsome son. My perfect family."

"So, what? We're engaged?"

"Who cares what we are Ro my love. I've got you, that's all I care about."

a/n: i have returned from the dead x

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 18, 2020 ⏰

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