Thirty-Seven

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Two Months Later

Michael and I have become complete slaves to work and Matilda. We hardly sleep, due to Michael's nightmares—I've tired everything that I can to try and help him, but we just can't figure something out to get him to stay asleep and not think of the day where he was almost hanged.

And the day that I found out that all of them had the rope around their necks before they were miraculously saved, was one that I never want to relive. Michael was an absolute wreck, high off cocaine and drinking like his life depended on it, practically reliving the morning. He almost didn't meet our daughter, and considering how connected they are now, I don't want to imagine what her life would be without him.

But none of that matters because today, we're getting married.

I, Florence Walker, will be marrying the love of my life, Michael Gray, after many months—like, too many months, of waiting.

"Hi." I whisper when Ruby walks into the room with my dress.

"It's fuckin' gorge, Flo." She squeals and hugs me after hanging it up.

"Only the best. Tom's paying for fuckin' everything." I say and we unzip it from the covers, the intricate gold and white dress spilling out and Ruby and Jessie's jaws drop. They haven't seen it. Only Tillie and I have, and she's a fuckin' baby.

"Florence." Ruth breathes. "You're gonna look fucking gorgeous."

"I know." I nod and they hug me. "I wish my mum was going to be here."

"Pol's here. She's currently on her knees praying, but she's here." Jessie tries to make light of Pol's new habit of going mental, praying, drinking and smoking. All while downing tablets.

As Pol says herself, she's caught up in the smoke. Just like how my mum died. We just haven't snapped her out of it yet.

But enough of that. Today's a happy day. The happiest day of my life, I bet. Next to when Tillie was born. I've had my hair done this morning, pinned curls and a braid at the top, and I have a flowered headband to wear on my, well, head, after the wedding, when my weird veil thing is off. I'm not doing a traditional Gypsy wedding, much to my dead mothers despair, but instead a church-ish one. Michael and I aren't religious, and we don't plan on becoming very religious, so, it's being held in a room in a mansion, and dinner will be in another while the wedding room is being turned into a ballroom.

It's also going to be an incredibly small affair. Alfie Solomons will be attending the reception, apparently we still can't have dinner with the man cause he's an enemy or whatever, even though Jessie's the godmother of Tillie, which means that she'll basically be in Alfie's care if something was to happen to Michael and I. But other than that, it'll just be whatever Peaky boys care to show up and the Shelby's, probably not even their wives, just the men.

I've also tried to make amends with Linda in the past few months, but all my attempts have come up short, due to my alliance with Thomas. She can't stand the fact that I'm 1. A woman who works for him and 2. Have forgiven him for getting our husbands imprisoned. As if I had a say in the matter in the first place and didn't spend eight months of my life crying myself to sleep asking myself how he could do that to me.

"You look gorgeous, Flo." Thomas says when he enters the room. "Ladies, a moment, if you don't mind." He says and Ruth and Jessie leave the room. "Stunning." He hugs me and I let out a few silent tears on his shoulder. "Michael is one lucky man." He pulls back. "Hey, what're you doing that for?" He takes the handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs under my eyes. "It's your bloody wedding day, Flo. Happy."

"I am happy." I sniffle. "I just wish my family was here."

"Yeah, well, I tried my fucking best to hunt down Charlie, but last the people Johnny Dogs was with he went to France." He says and I nod, swallowing hard. "I know he would've loved to see you."

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