Chapter Twenty-Seven
Confessions
"You did something that i thought was impossible, you helped me love myself again"
She was in a fury. Or was she in a mess? She couldn't tell what emotion she was being consumed by. Whether it was fear, anger, terror, heartbreak, she didn't know. Her friend and her lover were taken with an unknown fate. She had all faith in Tommy, and in Maxim who already had contacts in the jails and prisons. But still, fear - or whatever emotion it was - plagued her.
Maxim was out and so alone Lottie paced in the small living room of the apartment. Smoking stressfully, her ash tray was already over flowing. There were no lipstick stains on them now; it had completely worn off by now.
She needed to be near someone, to do something, figure out a solution. Grabbing her beret and forcing it down on her loose, messy auburn hair that tumbled down her back instead of sitting in its curls, she rushed out. She wasn't thinking - she couldn't. Her feet her stomping down the cobblestone roads, taking her to an unknown destination.
Suddenly, she stopped. She knew where she was. She'd spent so much time here, the house that stood before her held so many memories, both good and bad. She couldn't help but stare at the dark door that barricaded her outside. What was she doing here? Her hand lifted to knock. What was she thinking? She had to leave. Now. She knocked twice. There was a muffled sound of shuffling of feet before the door opened. A little boy stood in front of her. "Lottie!" He cried happily.
Before she could prepare herself, he leapt into her arms and winded, she caught him, unable to help but laugh at the boy. When she settled firmly on the ground, she lent down and admired at him. "Look how you've grown. You're practically a man now," she said affectionately.
He lifted his head proudly. "I grew this week," he said, "check the wall."
"I will," she nodded, a soft smirk on her lips.
"Who is it, Will?" A voice called.
Lottie lifted her gaze and saw John appear at the bottom of the stairs. His shirt was untucked and he was slightly dishevelled, but still as if he was holding himself firmly together.
"Lottie," he murmured.
"John," she replied with a slight smile.
The boy looked back at his father and said, "I was just telling Lottie how much I've grown this week. She said I was practically a man."
John walked over and put his hand on his son's head. "I better watch out then," he joked.
William turned back to Lottie who was now becoming more and more uncertain of why her feet took her to this house. "You never come here anymore," said William.
Lottie smiled, tensing. "Well, I've just been so busy, but I couldn't resist seeing you for another moment!"
"Come on, Will, it's your bed time," said John, dismissing him softly.
William looked sceptically between the two adults. "Do you promise to come say hello tomorrow?" He asked Lottie.
"Cross my heart, hope to die," she replied.
He paused for a moment before finally nodding and saying goodnight. As he disappeared up the stairs, John walked to the door, looking just as unsure as Lottie felt. "Did you want to come in?" He asked.
Lottie smiled, "Yes, please." She took off her coat and hung it on the hanger and made her way to the familiar route into the living room. "I can't believe how much he's grown," she sighed.
John chuckled. "It seems he won't stop."
"Not for a while at least," she added as she sat down on the armchair and he went to sit opposite on the sofa. They paused for a moment. "How are you holding up?"
He shrugged. "It's not the first time Arthur's in prison." As soon as the words left his mouth, the same thought entered both their minds: but it might be the last.
"He'll be out," sayid Lottie confidently. "We'll get him out."
John suddenly looked up at Lottie, his eyes strong, his jaw clenched. "Why are you here, Lottie?"
Her posture seemed to crumble inside her. "I don't know," she murmured. "I don't know." She shrugged. "Maxim's out trying to solve this, and I don't know what I can do to help. There's nothing I can do and I didn't want to be alone. I left the apartment and next thing I know, I'm standing at your door. I really don't know why I'm here, John, I don't know..."
He sighed and rested his forearms on his legs, leaning forward. "Esme has gone to the Lees, trying to convince them to get some men for us. She's been gone since the meeting. I've got all the kids, except the baby. I don't know why you came here, there's nothing I can do either."
They sat in silence once more. Lottie stared into the burning fire, her mind racing down many streets and avenues. Tommy would get them out of this - but what if he couldn't? What then? She couldn't lose them, not Arthur and not Michael... they'd barely started, he couldn't be snatched away from her now, doomed to a life imprisoned.
John's voice caught her out of her rabbit hole of a mind. "Your cheek," he said. "What happened?"
Lottie had already forgotten what had happened only that morning. Automatically, her hand went to cover the slight bruising. "Polly's unsurprisingly strong," she tried to joke.
John lent forward to lightly touch it, but he caught himself at the last moment. His fingers curled into his palm, his jaw clenched, and he leaned backwards, his spine stiffening. "Because of Michael?"
She dropped her eyes. "You said it wouldn't end well," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Lottie-"
She stood up, suddenly filled with emotion. "Why is it so wrong? Why does Polly hate it so much? Maxim's not exactly a fan either, and we both know your thoughts about it. Tommy... who knows what Tommy thinks and if Arthur knew, he'd beat the poor sod to a pulp. I don't understand!" Her voice was rising, until she froze, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Is it so wrong for me to be happy?"
John sat in silence, unable to lift his eyes to her, his face was almost contorted and pained. Lottie shook her head. "I was wrong to have come here. I'm sorry, I'll leave you in peace-"
"Do you love him?" John asked suddenly, cutting her off.
"Wha-what?" Lottie stammered, confused, freezing halfway to the door.
"Michael," he explained. "Do you love Michael?"
Lottie looked down.
"Tell me honestly, Lottie." He stared at her in earnest. He wanted to hear her say the words, the words he knew were true, and yet, the faint hope deep in his heart begged her to say the words he wanted her to say.
Lottie knew the answer. She did. The confusion vanished from her face, her brows relaxed and she looked back up at John. His expression was torn, as if he was longing for her to deny it. Her heart broke for him, but at the same time, it had never felt more full. "I do," she answered softly.
John nodded, clenching his jaw, looking away from her, sniffing harshly and wiping the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.
She knew how hard it must be considering that they never really had any closure or breakup - it just ended with John marrying Esme. But she had to watch John and Esme happy together and be happy for them - now it was her turn to be happy. She deserved it and Michael made her happy. And now she realised she loved him. She truly did.
"I'm not going to apologise-" she began.
"I'd never expect you to," he said simply.
She expected to see an angry expression on his face, or at least a hurt one, but what she saw instead was resignation and acceptance.
He sighed and said, "Ever since he arrived I've noticed a difference in you. I didn't want to admit it and so I denied it. I told myself that you were only being friendly with him to spite me. I wanted to list to you all the reasons to you why it wouldn't work." John looked up at Lottie, his eyes wide and honest. "I wanted to hate him. I wanted whatever was between the two of you to end. I wanted to confront you and shout and... I don't even know what." He sighed deeply, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. A faint smile appeared on the corner of his lips. "But then I'd see you smiling. Smiling in a way that I hadn't seen you smiling for so long. The way you used to when we were children, before we went off to war. Before the smoke and dirt buried us in our lives. I saw you happy - truly fucking happy and I..." He cleared his throat and sniffed harshly. "I wish things had turned out differently, but... I do want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. More than any of us."
Warm tears slowly fell down Lottie's cheeks at his words. Her heart was simultaneously warming and breaking. "John, I..." Her throat tightened. She moved so that she was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, their bodies close. "That's what I want for you, too. To be happy. Finally. It's what we both deserve." She took his hands in hers and he instantly grasped them back tightly. She was crying now, as was he; silently, both excepting the truth. "Don't ever think you didn't make me happy," she whispered, "because you did. You made me so happy."
He clenched his eyes shut and lifted his hands to her cheeks, their foreheads resting against each other's. There was a shared pain they were both feeling - a sense of an end. The final closure they'd both longed for and yet never wanted.
"I love you, Lottie," John promised tearfully.
"And I love you, John," she replied, fresh tears cascading down her face.
She grasped his face in her hands, their heads tilting towards one another until their lips brushed, their breaths warming their faces. When their lips pressed together in a kiss, memories flooded before Lottie's eyes. She remembered their first kiss, their first 'I love yous', their heartbreak, the torment between them, the unsatisfying ending that was thrusted upon them. Their lips parted and part of Lottie didn't want to let go, but that feeling was disappearing. She knew she had to, and she knew that she wanted to. This was the ending to their story. The last page in their book.
"I will always love you," she said, leaning away from him and looking into his eyes. "Please know that. It's just... I love Michael."
John nodded. "I understand. I wish I didn't, but I do."
And like that, their story was finished.
***
Her eyes were dark, her face pale, her lungs empty and pained, but she ran and she didn't stop. As soon as the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon of lined houses, Lottie was up. Her feet ached profusely, and her face was flushed. She'd heard from Ads that Michael was to be released first thing in the morning and she had to be there.
The police station was coming into view, as was a black motor. Her feet slowed to a halt. Polly was up by the door which was ominously opening before her. A silhouette emerged, a match lighting up his face. His bruised and beaten face. Michael put a cigarette to his lips and breathed in the smoke, no longer cringing from it.
Polly slowly stepped up her her son, who stood still, his hands in his pockets. He looked forwards and saw Lottie, her chest heaving, but remained still while Lottie was frozen, staring.
"You need cream on those cuts or they'll go bad," said Polly.
"The screws told me why I've been freed," said Michael simply, staring at his mother dead in the eye. "They told me what you did. They thought it was funny. Maybe it is."
With his words hanging between them, he walked forwards, away from his mother before stopping in front of Lottie. She lifted a hand to face sore face. "Mickey," she whispered.
"Let's go," was all he said.
She nodded, taking his arm and led him away from the prison, and from Polly. They walked in silence as they neared the centre of the city. But when Lottie had let themselves into her apartment and shut the door, she held her breath and turned to face him. "Michael," she said as strongly as she could.
He looked up at her, but said nothing.
"Michael, there's - there's something I have to tell you, and you don't have to say it back, but I need to say this."
"Alright," he said, stepping closer to her, his expression open.
She looked around desperately before her eyes crashed into his deep blue ones. "I realised something. Something important. Michael, I..." she looked down and sighed. Her body relaxed. "Michael, I love you. I do. And call me a fool because I know, but I'm happy to be a fool, I'm willing to get my heart broken by you, I'm ready to put everything on the line for how I feel. I love you, Mickey. I really do."
Michael stared at her, eyes wide. She couldn't prepare herself for what happened next. He reached for her and pulled her as tightly to him as he could, their bodies moulding together becoming one. She was his. She willing was his. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
***
It was tight on her bed where they lay, skin against skin, the warmth of shared body heat like a blanket. Lottie circled the tip of her finger along Michael's chest, following lines she imagined in her head. She never wanted to leave this moment, for it to last forever for it she was too remain stuck in one memory, she wanted it to be this one. He looked down at her soft auburn head with his casting grey eyes. His heart seemed to grow tan sizes wherever he looked at her. She has this inhuman effect on him and he was helpless to it, like a tidal wave, he was powerless in fighting against it. But he willingly drowned in her.
"Mickey," she murmured.
"Yeah?" He turned his face towards her, leaving slightly on his elbow so he could see her beautiful face properly, the firelight casting a warm glow on them.
Her green eyes fluttered downwards, her eyelashes casting long shadows. "Since you came here, everything's changed. you've changed so much." She met his eyes with hers, unable to hide the affection and admiration in them - and not wanting to. "You did something that i thought was impossible," she said. "You helped me love myself again."
Michael's heart seemed to expand. there were so many words he wanted to say; all the ways she inspired him, how she helped him grow and find himself. All these things and so much more rumbled out his mouth in a whisper, in there simple words: "I love you."
Lottie stared at him for a moment.
"I love you, Lotts," he said again, this time slightly louder, yet softer.
A smile grew on her lips and he had to seal it with his own. Leaving down, he pressed his lips against hers, his hand caressing her cheek. He loved her. It was fact. Concrete. It would never be unmade. He loved her and she loved him. And nothing else mattered.
a/n:
hey guyss! this is a late note but i cannot stress enough of how busy and stressful things are at the moment but i hope you enjoyed this chapter! what did you think of michael's rejection of his mother? or more importantly, john and lottie's conversation? i had this conversation planned for a very very long time aha i hope i've done it justice
i'd love to know your thoughts so please do comment, vote, and follow!
hope you're well! stay safe! xo