• DIVORCÈE •

Part 2

I walk towards the basket of her goodies in the dining room. There, I have her winter gear - don't ask and a few bibs, and toys. I pull out the most clean one, something I do too often to impress my ex, and hand it to him.

"I don't want to get her too dirty." I say, watching as she protests.

"Why? Is she not a lady when she eats?" He asks, looking down at her. He tries to put the bib on her but she flails her arms and screams.

Evangeline is quite the messy eater, and a bib definitely helps combat that.

"She doesn't want it." He gives up after no time of trying.

"Thomas," I quickly take the bib from him and put it on her. She has a big tear rolling down her cheek that Thomas swipes away.

Evangeline smells the food and is reaching for it. "Ah, ah!" I snap at her, bringing her eyes up to mine. "It's too hot, love, dada will have to feed you."

Like the solider they had programmed him to be, he takes those instructions and does as told. Feeding her with a spoon, I'm happy he doesn't give her bread. Knowing she only has four teeth in her mouth.

"Look at that," He muses, watching with wide eyes as she eats everything off of her spoon. "Such a good girl, you are!"

The idea of having another baby came up plenty of times, but I know I don't want to have two children with two different fathers. Plus, that one time I went on a date, Thomas had me be followed. Nearly scared away the good man.

"You aren't hungry are you?" I ask, searching his eyes. Thomas is never hungry. Only thing he craves is whiskey, greed, cigarettes and power.

"No." He replies, studying Eva, "What do you think about giving Evangeline another sibling, y/n?"

"No." I quietly deny him. "Not from me. Get your Starke girl pregnant, she's yours to plant your seed in."

He falls silent. Something Thomas does too often. I get up to stand, knowing deep down that I want to stay and ask him about his arm but choose against it.

"I'm going to shower." I state, running my hand over her hair. Evangeline's shirt is covered in beans and sauce. "You need to change her clothes."

"Alright," He looks up, batting his eyelashes. "Can I have a smoke in here?"

A chuckle comes out of my mouth. "You know I don't want you smoking in my house."

"Fine, do you have whiskey?"

I nod. "Do you want the whole bottle or only a glass of it?"

This was something I would ask him nearly every night he came home to me. Nights when he wouldn't go to his office, he'd just come upstairs and cuddle me. I would smell the gun powder and whiskey off of him, the cigarettes and smell of death. He would leave these sloppy kisses to my shoulder and back, as his wrapped his arms around my body. He would call my name between each kiss, in a low breathy voice. Thomas woke me up nearly every time, expressing that he needed me. And I needed him in return. He would move his lips to mine as I began tugging off his underwear, feeling his muscles contract on top of me. His tongue on my body, before I whispered his name the way he needed me to. We would end up in a sea of emotions after making passionate love. Thomas and I, naked in bed for hours as he desclosed to me everything that happened in the day. From the way he stroked his horses hair, to the feeling of another life he had claimed. And then, I would go on about mine. And he would watch me speak with a smile on his face. He'd ask questions and talk to me. He was good at that, always listening to me banter. Looking at me as I ran my fingers through his hair.