Author's Note:

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the third part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

As an important note for this chapter, there is Tommy Shelby smut within this part. This is intended for mature audiences only.

Please enjoy. ;)

xxA

Ghosts of Our Past: A Broken Promise

Part Three:

"Antonina."

I couldn't make sense of it.

My world had turned upside down again.

The man that tortured my dreams and haunted my heart was sitting before me, saving me from my nightmares as he had saved me so many years ago. It had been nearly two years, but it felt like a lifetime had passed before me.

I couldn't remember how to speak. We sat glued, searching one another's eyes for what felt like another lifetime.

I was conflicted. I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to shout every foul thing that I could ever think of in Polish, Russian, and English at him. The logical side of my brain told me to smack him to America and back for what he did to me. I wanted to throw him out the window and tell him to fuck off straight to hell. I felt the anger flash through me. If looks could kill, he would have died a thousand deaths before me.

Searching his face, I realized that in my absence, he likely had. He had grown so much older in the two years that I was away from Small Heath. Exhaustion was etched into the skin next to his ever gorgeous blue eyes, like erosion on the world's most beautiful monument. His irises were an ocean filled with pain and longing.

It seemed unrighteous that a man like Tommy had to go through this much anxiety.

Despite my rationale, my heart broke for him. It broke for myself.

Suddenly, my anger dissipated. I was unsure how to proceed.

So I did what I had always done with Tommy Shelby during our first encounters.

I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was as if the flood of emotions from the previous two years had broken down the walls of my soul.

I began to cry, in a way that only matched the deepest agony in a person's soul.

The strangled sobs escaped from my throat. I tried to speak, but everything came out unintelligibly.

It didn't sound like any other language, but anguish.

He didn't skip a beat in comforting me. He grabbed me into his arms, murmuring whispered reassurances through my hair.

"Toni, it is okay, it will be okay. I am here."

For how long, I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that his word meant nothing to me, but I didn't dare break the moment.

For the first time since 1919, I felt almost whole again. It made no sense, and yet, it did.

So I let myself believe that he would never leave me. He held me, even as I stopped crying. He stroked my hair, breathing in my scent.

I was ashamed at how quickly I had fallen to pieces in front of him. I had been imagining this moment for two years. There was so much that I had wanted to say to him. How strong that I wanted to be, to show him that I was okay without him.

But I couldn't find the right words, because I had missed him so much. I had been only existing without him.

Deep in my rage, the love for him never dissipated.

Truth be told, I was too tired to fight with him. I was too tired to send him away. My soul was on the edge of collapse at the thought of him leaving. Despite my pride, I needed him to keep from losing myself again in the grief.

But I was not weak. I would not be made a fool. I sat up, with a renewed purpose.

As he looked into my eyes, he leaned in, waiting for my next words.

"I am too tired to tell you everything that I want to say and I want you to know that you are not forgiven for how you sent me away like I meant nothing to you," I began, with a fierce determination to my voice.

It was brief and it faltered nearly immediately when I saw the regret displayed in his eyes.

He nodded, turning as if he were about to leave. Terror gripped my body and I latched onto him. "But Tommy, please don't leave me. Please stay with me tonight. Stay. Don't leave me here alone," I pleaded, on the edge of hysterics.

I couldn't breathe.

He cupped my face, burning my eyes with his gaze. I melted into his touch and I relaxed. The air returned to my lungs.

"Toni, I will never leave you. I am here."

"Stay with me."

"Always."

He put his forehead against my own, before rising from the bed, going to the front door. Despite my rationality, my heart began to pound at the thought of him leaving. I closed my eyes to breathe in a deep of fresh air.

As I lay in my internal realm of panic, he locked the door. As he walked to the bed, he undressed to his undergarments, slipping into bed with me. He blew out the nearly spent candle that lay beside my bed.

Soon, his arms found their way around me. For the first time in what felt like years, I felt myself fully relax against him.

Despite my exhaustion, I wanted to lay awake for hours, relishing in being held in his arms again. I didn't know if this would ever happen again. I clutched him tighter, drinking in the scent of Thomas Shelby.

As if reading my thoughts, he turned to look down at me, cupping my face.

"I will be here in the morning. I will be here every day with you if you want me to be. Go to sleep, kochanie," he whispered to me. My eyes filled with tears at the use of his Polish. When his attempts at Polish had appeared in the letters that he wrote to me, I had been so angry that he even tried. But now, as his smooth voice spoke the word to me, my anger melted away. He had learned some Polish to me to let me know how much I did mean to me. And I responded with silence. I had let my anger and pride get in the way of it all.

"Tommy?"

"Yes, Toni?"

"I am so sorry for never writing you back."

There was only silence between us for minutes. When he spoke, his voice was gruff with unshed tears.

"I wrote sixt-"

" I know. Sixty letters. I have them all."

"You kept them?"

He seemed surprised. He probably assumed that I had burned them all. While it was an impulse of mine, I couldn't bare to do it. I swallowed.

"I read and I kept every single one."

My words were met with no reply.

He only clutched me tighter.

As I relaxed into his embrace, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The early dawn shined through the window. Tommy woke up from a peaceful sleep, so peaceful that the nightmares had evaded him for the first time in two years. Since she left.

He realized that he was not in his bed. As he turned to the other body in the bed, he froze at the sight of her.

Last night had really happened. The memories of last night flooded his mind. Her words had broken and mended parts of his soul.

"You came to visit me in my dreams again."

His heart had broken at her groggy confession. She had dreamt of him, like her being filled his nightmares each night. So she hadn't forgotten about him.

His eyes regarded her wearily. Sensing his hesitation, her brows furrowed, studying him without really seeing him. A troubled expression crossed her face, replaced by peace.

"Huh, maybe I am dead and our murders weren't a dream. Funny, I used to think it would be David greeting me in death, but it is you. What a pleasant surprise. I always did consider you the love of my life, despite everything," she slurred, dreamily.

He felt his heart stop in that moment.

She had regarded him as the love of her life, despite everything.

Tommy knew that she was still mad at him. He understood why. Honor was everything to her. In her eyes, he had done the most dishonorable thing to her. He sighed, knowing that he had to earn her trust again. But maybe not all was lost. She kept every letter from him. It was a mistake to give up writing to her.

He checked the time of his pocket watch, sitting on the table beside the bed. They still had time.

He didn't know if she would ever want him this close to her again. So, he took advantage of the time that he had with her.

He gazed at her, studying her face as she slept.

He loved the way that her freckles had dotted her face like the most beautiful constellation in the sky. Her full lips had parted slightly, as she slept. He relished the times that he was able to kiss them. He stroked her cheek, pushing the short chocolate brown hair behind her ear.

She was heaven personified.

She began to stir, though he kept his hand on her cheek, gently stroking. She smiled, her eyelashes fluttering open, suddenly.

Her hazel eyes stared into his.

"Good morning, Tommy."

I felt the sunlight tickle my cheek as the dawn began to awaken the city of Birmingham. I felt more rested than I had in years. I felt a gentle stroke of my cheek, as someone pushed the hair behind my ear. The memories of my previous night came flooding back to me. I couldn't help it, a smile broke open upon my face. Tommy.

I opened my eyes to see his blue irises, filled with longing. He was still here.

"Good morning, Tommy."

"Good morning, Antonina."

The tension filled the room, as there were so many things left unsaid between us. We had many questions left to answer. There was anger, hurt, bitterness, longing, and love pulsating through the room between us. I knew that this lay ahead, just before I fell asleep last night. I knew the trouble that this would cause us if we were intimate again before we had these difficult discussions. We had both done stupid things over the last few years.

Yet, I banished all of these thoughts as I pressed my lips into his.

It was never logic with Tommy and I in our private moments. Despite everything that we had put each other through, we still loved each other deeply.

He returned my kiss with a sense of ferociousness that I hadn't anticipated. I moaned in pleasure, in between his lips. He pushed my hands above my head.

"I missed you, Toni" he gasped, as he pinned me to the bed.

"And I, you, Tommy," I mused, as he lowered his hands to rip my shift to expose my flesh. Fuck, how erotic this was. My skin felt as if it were on fire as his gaze burned a desire into my flesh that I hadn't felt in two years.

He cupped my face, as he looked deeply into my eyes, before trailing kisses down my flesh. As he passed my belly button, my hips involuntarily flexed. I felt his fingers slip into me, as he continue to kiss down my body. When he met the apex of my thighs, he looked up at me before he placed his tongue onto my clitoris. I grabbed the sheets of the bed in response, moaning.

"Oh Tommy," I moaned as he continued to tantalize me with his mouth. I could feel the tension building, as my orgasm was near. As I began to grind against him, he grabbed my hips squeezing them to stay still. I felt his hands trail up to my breasts, lightly cupping them. When I came, I tangled my hands through his hair, crying out.

As the wave of pleasure receded, his face met mine with a passionate kiss. He broke it to look into my eyes.

"Antonina, have you been with anyone else since me?"

As much as I wanted to admonish him for how inappropriate the question was given the activities, I shook my head. He held my face as he kissed me passionately again.

As he steadied himself into me, I moaned in pleasure. He started off slowly, easing in and out of me, so that my body could get used to it. To him.

Soon, I began to match his pace.

In an instant, he flipped us over to where I was straddling him, facing him. I began to move up and down his cock, swiveling my hips. He began to moan, his hands grasping my back to meet me, thrust for thrust. Soon, we both found our release, our foreheads pressing into one another's as we came back down to earth.

We stayed like this for moments, looking into one another's eyes.

As the daylight began to move more intensely into the room, Tommy sighed, breaking our gaze. He began to get up, to get dressed. As he did, he turned to me as he did.

What a beautiful sight this man was.

"We have to go to the funeral soon, Antonina. I need to go home to change. Will you come with me?"

Lighting a cigarette, I thought for a moment before giving him my answer. It was not that I did not want to see everyone...I was not ready to have the difficult confrontations of who I had left behind in my flight from Small Heath.

Sensing my hesitation and qualms, Tommy sat back down on the bed, taking the cigarette from my hand. He placed his hands on my face.

"Antonina, they want to see you. They want a little joy in these times of sorrow. Please come with me. If they start to hassle you for not writing, I will remind them it was me who sent you away."

Feeling a lump in my throat at the mention of my exodus, I simply nodded. He kissed me, before releasing me. I got up to retrieve my things as he finished dressing. I opened my small suitcase to find the black dress, shoes, coat, and hat that I had packed for the occasion.

Quickly, I got dressed as Tommy began to smoke a cigarette waiting for me. He watched as I pulled the dress over my head, studying my every move as I pulled my stockings on. I quickly brushed my chin length hair and fringe into place. There was no need for makeup on a day like this, aside from the nude lipstick I dashed on quickly. I moved to put on my jewelry.

"You're much too thin, Toni," Tommy said, as I began to put on my jewelry. I shrugged, unwilling to entertain any conversation about it. Instead, I focused on putting on my jewelry. I put the small ruby earrings in, before putting on the small ruby necklace that he had given me two years ago to replace my wedding bands, though I had started to wear my gold wedding band on my right ring finger again in London.

As the recognition of the necklace and earrings washed across his face, he strode to me. He cupped my face, looking into my eyes with a rawness that cut me to my core. I knew the questions would come.

"You kept them?"

"Yes, Tommy. I have kept everything that you ever sent me or given to me."

"Why didn't you return?"

I sighed. I knew the question was coming.

"I just couldn't do it, Tommy. I was hurt. I was angry. I was prideful. In the beginning, I was afraid. I thought-"

He interrupted me, pressing his finger to my lip.

"I know. I am so sorry, Toni. More than you know."

I simply nodded. It felt stupid to continue holding the anger in my heart about something that seemed so petty now.

"I am sorry for what I said to you the last time that I saw you. It was cruel."

I had regretted my final words to him every single day since 1919.

He shook his head, interrupting my wave of regret.

"It wasn't anything less than I deserve to hear."

"I am sorry for not writing. I am sorry for disappearing."

He looked to the ground, before speaking. I felt my stomach drop to the ground.

"I thought you were dead, Antonina. I thought...I would never have wired the news to your family. I was lashing out. Like a petulant child. I kept tabs on you in the beginning. When your name went dead, I thought they had found you. When Ada told me that you were alive, I wanted to go to London to get you. Until she told me that you never wanted to speak my name again."

I smiled, sadly. So much time wasted.

"You wrote to me, though."

"Technically, I wrote to Anna Stepanova."

Despite the serious moment, I laughed. A sad smile crept at the corners of his mouth.

"We need to get going, Tommy. We can talk about this later."

I broke our embrace, slipping my shoes and coat on. I grabbed my small handbag, closing the door the room. Tommy locked the door behind.

We descended down the stairs, walking towards Watery Lane.

Seeing the city in the daylight, I realized that not much had changed in Small Heath with the exception of more factories and more buildings clouding the already grey horizon. As we walked, Small Heath residents tipped their hats at us. A few had widened eyes as they took in the sight of me. I raised my eyebrows in response. I must have looked like a ghost, returning from the grave.

"They look like they have seen a ghost," I muttered, lighting a cigarette.

"Rumor was that you died," he gravely said, lighting a cigarette in response to my own lighting.

"Ha ha, hell was full so I have come back," I said, inhaling my cigarette. Tommy stopped to look at me. His eyes held a pained look in them. Frowning, I touched his cheek.

"Tommy, I am only joking."

"Antonina...I cannot tell you how I felt when I thought you were really dead."

His admission came out barely above a gruff whisper. My heart melted.

"Tommy, I am here now. I am too wicked to be taken."

For once, Tommy was speechless, as he looked at me.

"Antonina, you are not a saint, but you are far from bein' wicked. You are like a fallen angel. Not made for heaven, but not made for this earth either."

I couldn't say anything as I shook my head. I didn't even know what to make of the comment. Maybe it was true.

"Let's keep walking Tommy."

He nodded his head, lacing his arm in mine as his response. We walked in a comfortable silence.

Soon, Watery Lane came into our sight.