EVELYN SWORE SHE never rolled her eyes more than when she was surrounded by socialites – the same people who now regarded her with a mere ounce of respect used to look down and spit at her family for who they were and she hated it.
The gala was held at an art gallery in the middle of London – the place where all the richest of society lived. Clinging to Richard's arm, Evelyn felt herself visibly cringe when the man turned his head – whispering in her ear.
"I never got to tell you how breathtaking you look, Miss Shelby," he removed her arm from his to wrap it around her waist – way too low for her liking.
Evelyn pushed back her disgusted feelings towards the man and his touch, reminding herself that she was doing this for all the effort that Tommy put in to try to get her the speakeasy. But most importantly, she was doing it for herself and her aspirations.
"Thank you, Mr Klein," Evelyn politely responded, letting him lead her around the gallery full of paintings that were far more expensive than she would like to think about.
Clutching her purse, Evelyn pretended to listen as Richard explained something he found interesting about a particular painting or the artists – humming along in agreement when needed although she knew next-to-nothing about the topics at hand.
Richard and Evelyn walked around the hall before he led them both past a curtain – pulling them into a room full of life. A gasp left Evelyn's lips at the sight of women dressed in nothing walked around the room serving drinks to wealthy couples who were all sat around a table.
"Not what you were expecting?" Richard chuckled, walking down the first few steps before offering his hand to the girl frozen at the top of the stairs.
"Definitely not what I was expecting from socialites," Evelyn's eyes were wide as one of the naked women walked past her and winked – she quickly grabbed Richard's hand as he laughed at her reaction.
The man weaved them both through to an empty table set for two – pulling out her chair as Evelyn took a hesitant seat, her eyes darting around the bustling environment.
"I take it that your speakeasy is going to be more modest, Miss Shelby," Richard slyly smirked, taking the seat opposite Evelyn.
At his words, a woman carrying a tray of drinks walked over to their table – leaning over to let them take the glasses. Evelyn's eyes quickly averted to the blank wall beside her; the action causing Richard to burst into loud laughter.
"You're meant to look, love," he grinned, watching as the barmaid left their table with a wink. "They don't mind."
"Still seems disrespectful," Evelyn muttered, picking up her glass of what smelt like a Boulevardier. The taste was bitter on her tongue and Evelyn tried not to spit it out – she liked whiskey, but hated it mixed with other alcohol.
The pair set in relative silence as people came up to Richard, greeting him energetically while introducing themselves to Evelyn – disgust evident on their faces when she spoke her last name.
The Shelby woman felt her attention drifting as she sat in the chair – becoming restless from how long she had been in the same spot. Noticing Richard animately chatting to a group of men who had all pulled up chairs around him, Evelyn stood and began to push her way through the crowd until she was back in the main foyer of the gallery.
Taking a deep breath, she found herself walking a lap around the gallery – this time paying more attention to particular portraits of people she assumed had high importance in a rich society; until she came across a painting that caught her eye.
Evelyn didn't have high regard when it came to art, but this particular piece seemed to stick out to her. It was of a gorgeous pond; water lilies floating on top of the water as vines dangled down from the top of the canvas – it reminded her of the small lake that she used to ride her horse, Penny to; letting the mare drink from the water.
"It's a Monet," a voice came from behind her – the familiarity instantly causing Evelyn to freeze, not daring to turn around as he walked to stand beside her. "Yer' like it?"
"It's pretty," Evelyn's voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke, still not daring to look at him.
"For a woman born into rags, yer' have rich fuckin' tastes," he lightly chuckled, the sound causing Evelyn to swallow down her unsettled nerves. "Wasn't expectin' to see yer' here, now was I?"
"Believe me, the thought of you being here didn't cross my mind either."
Evelyn's tone was blunt, but her expression softened when she finally turned to look at him for the first time in what felt like years. Her eyes darted over his appearance, taking in that even though it was a fancy event – he still dressed in his usual attire. His cane was tightly clasped in his left hand, his hat angled down to cast a shadow over his face – but Evelyn could still see the flared, flaking skin on his left cheek.
She wanted to ask if he was okay but didn't know if she had that right anymore.
Noticing her intense stare, Alfie turned to face her – poking his hat up with his free hand so his eyes could meet hers. He took notice of how ethereal she seemed to look under the golden lighting – the hues causing her skin to glow. He noticed the dress that adorned her body, it was the same shade of green that she wore the day they first met; the thought causing him to rub the back of his neck.
So much had changed since then.
"Fuckin' 'ell, Eve," he chuckled, eyes darting up and down her figure. "Even in a room full of art, you still stand out."
Evelyn couldn't help the slight flush that coated her skin at his ministrations – noticing that Richard doing the same thing caused her to want to puke. She didn't respond to his compliment, but she knew her actions spoke louder than words when she seemed to find the floor beneath her shoes more interesting than anything else.
"What are yer' doing here, aye?" He sent her a small smile, showing that he held no malice behind any of his words. "Haven't seen any of yer' brothers now have I? Hard to believe that you came here on yer' own?"
"I came with someone."
Evelyn looked up just in time to see the way Alfie's expression fell and she couldn't help but want to reach out and reassure him that while she wasn't sure where they stood in terms of their relations – her heart still belonged to him.
"Right, yeah – alright," Alfie fumbled over his words, his rings tapping against the metal of his walking stick. "He a good guy? Treat yer' right? Because if he lays one hand where it don't fuckin' belong, yeah, yer' know that I will cut it off. No fuckin' questions asked."
"I came here with him for business, Alfie."
Evelyn chose to ignore the relieved sigh that left Alfie's lips – the man taking a few tentative steps towards her. Evelyn didn't know what to think as Alfie tilted her chin with his thumb, his beautiful blue eyes staring into her equally as stunning ones.
"I fuckin' miss yer', Eve."
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, Evelyn couldn't stop her hands from trembling at how close she was to the man she believed never wanted to see her again – not quite knowing what to make of the situation or his words.
"Then why didn't you come?" She sucked in a deep breath. "When I fainted, Pol sent Tommy to collect you. You didn't come. Why?"
Evelyn instantly noticed the way that Alfie began to think – swearing that if she looked closely enough she would be able to see the mental cogs turning in his mind. A silence settled between the pair, but Alfie's hand moved to cup her cheek – brushing a few baby hairs away from her pretty face.
"I thought that if I made yer' hate me, it would be easier when I go," he settled on responding with, the statement causing Evelyn to become confused.
"You're leaving?" She spluttered, not quite understanding the true meaning behind his words. "Where to?"
"To the big white pearly gates," he huffed, watching as Evelyn began to send him a confused look. "Or to the fuckin' under-pits of hell, since we know that's where I'll truly be goin'."
"What on Earth are you fucking talking about?"
With a slight huff, Alfie dropped his hand before gesturing to his pealing skin – removing his white scarf to show the inflammation on his neck.
"Cancer," he muttered, watching Evelyn lift her hand to hesitantly hover over the scaring. "I found out, right, I found out about a month after I thought yer' were gone. Been gettin' treated for it but no sayin' that it's workin', innit?"
"Alf," Evelyn inhaled a shaky breath, her crystal blue eyes shining with unshed tears.
Alfie was quick to lean over and pull Evelyn into his arms as she began to cry, letting her cling to his coat – not daring to let go as if she would disappear again if he did. He wasn't quite sure how to comfort the woman who was crying over his diagnosis, but he thought it was time to talk about the thoughts that had been running through his head since they last saw each other in his office.
"I understand why yer' did it, Eve," Alfie mumbled into her hair, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "I don't think, yeah, I don't think that I will ever forgive yer' for it. But I can move on."
"I am so sorry, Alf." Evelyn sobbed as Alfie cupped her cheeks between his palms to have her look at him, his thumbs wiping away her flood of tears.
"Yer' goin' to ruin yer' makeup," he teased, letting his tone turn sincere. "I look at you, yeah. I look at you, Eve and I know I still love yer'. All those women in that fuckin' hall don't stand a dime against you. Yer' walked past me, back there, right. You walked past me and it was like time fuckin' stopped. I didn't fuckin' belong in there, with them fuckin' posh folk – so I followed yer'. And now standing here with yer' I feel like I belong."
Alfie's voice became weak towards the end of his sentence, causing Evelyn to raise onto her tip-toes to rest her forehead against his – and she couldn't help but feel like everything was going to finally be alright. She was in the arms of the man she loved again and although they were both messy, rough around the edges and had a lot to work through – they made a beautiful disaster.
"We'll get you tests," Evelyn whispered, tightening her hold on Alfie's vest. "We'll make sure the treatment is working, and if it isn't we'll go see another fucking doctor."
Alfie's voice was barely above a whisper as he questioned her. "We?"
"We." She confirmed. "I'm with you as long as you still want me."
"Yer' the only one I'll ever want, Evelyn. Nobody is ever going to be you, are they?"
With those soft-spoken words, Evelyn tests the waters by placing her lips upon Alfie's. She pulls away a second later when he doesn't reciprocate, her lips brushing against his – their breathing fanning across the others face. Evelyn shuts her eyes as she goes to pull away, only to have one of his hands grip the back of her neck – placing his lips back onto hers.
It was a kiss full of passion, catching both of them slightly off-guard. It says everything that they both were thinking but couldn't find the words to speak.
I miss you. I'm sorry. Please, let me love you again. Love me again.
Pulling away for air, Alfie traced Evelyn's swollen lips with his thumb, his eyes darting between her own and her mouth. He could see the way the world had forced the innocent girl he had met her as to change into someone who didn't let herself show weakness.
He knew that his girl now held fire in her heart and ice in her veins – but he knew that deep down she was just as broken under the surface as he was. He had fallen for a woman who was lionhearted. A woman who has had a life that was never fair and kind to her, yet she still made sure to protect those who she cared for more than anything – especially her family.
Alfie Solomons loved Evelyn Shelby and it was the beginning and the end of everything he thought he didn't deserve.
"We're going to be okay, Eve," he promised her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "As long as I've got you, right, I know that it's going to be okay. All of it."
"Can I come back home? Just for the night," Evelyn whispered.
She was vulnerable, standing in front of the love of her life – handing him her heart in her hands. Evelyn placed her open palm over Alfie's heart, finding comfort in the steady beats – he pressed another kiss to her forehead, before nodding to the curtains they had both exited from.
"What about yer' business deal?"
"I already stayed far longer than I was supposed to," Evelyn grunted. "Was meant to just sit and mingle for an hour before I went home. Plus, I don't belong in there either – they all shunned me as soon as they heard the name Shelby."
Evelyn couldn't help the smile that grew when Alfie offered her a hand, relishing in the feeling of his calloused skin against her own – a contrast compared to Richards soft palms. She preferred Alfie in every way, ten times over.
"Right," the man beamed from beneath his ginger beard, trying not to blush when Evelyn tucked herself closer to his body. "Let's go fuckin' home, yeah?"