Author's Note 1:

Do you know how I told you that the plot would begin to move along quickly after the last chapter (mostly because I just don't want to lose you, my readers, to lack of the plot moving)...well... I had this scene planned out in my head for some time, however, I thought it would be around 4 paragraphs...instead it was four pages! So while this is a shorter chapter, it is still close enough to how many words I normally post ( I normally do around 2500-3000, and this is around 2100) for me to make it a chapter instead of trying to condense it down into a scene among a much faster moving plot. My apologies, but I promise that the future chapters should be getting everyone some updates on previous characters and begin moving the plot towards the ending.

Also! This takes place the Christmas that was lightly mentioned in the previous chapter, right after Roger has his nightmare (so you can imagine his state of mind better, too).

Chapter 32 Gratitude

Roger had this strange feeling in his gut. He tried to ignore it the best he could-he ought not to be such a pathetic coward, but he was, and so he sat on the couch, one hand grappling the top of his cane and the other almost being sat upon to keep it from gravitating to his combed hair tempting to upset it, which would make him look even worse than he did already.

He could hear the small clack of little heels down their wooden floors, indicating that he was going to have to stuff all his worries away and focus on the happy smile that met him.

'Sorry to keep you waiting-I'm afraid my hair wanted to do its own thing today-there may be a few more pins than usual.' What a beauty she was to behold! When the first cold winds swept into Maine bringing blasts of ice and snow, he had assumed that he would miss her in her cheery summer yellows and springtime blues, yet here she was standing in dark green, her mother's necklace laying in the square neckline of the dress, the darker color making her look elegant and well, stunning.

'Are you alright?' She was in front of him now, face tilted in curiosity and a little worry.

'Aye.' He smiled, though he knew it was a rather wistful thing rather than genuinely happy. 'You look beautiful.' He added, causing her to blush a little and give her thanks.

And so they were off, and he managed to only inwardly groan when he felt as if he must think about the evening. It was one thing to talk to the people at the firm on a work day. Conversation that only centered around the task at hand was seen as commendable, however, conversation at a Christmas party-failure to engage in appropriate small talk would deem you socially inadequate.

But I do have Belle. He mused to himself. Yes, that was true, though that was what had partially caused that feeling in his gut to start in the first place. Scarlett had been very keen on Roger bringing his 'pretty little wife' to the Christmas office party. Dove's wife was also invited, in fact, the spouses who were yet living and around the area (there was a secretary with a fiance still fighting) were all extended an invitation, yet, he had felt that Scarlett had paid particular interest in making sure Belle was among the number who would come. He had almost not told her about the invitations being extended to the spouses, just so he wouldn't have to watch the big, handsome, smiling fellow charm his way around his wife. That would have been selfish and even more cowardly than any of the feelings he was experiencing now. Belle loved people, loved being around them. She and Dove's wife had already become friends. Mrs. Dove had brought over a dinner for them the morning of his wedding, for him to heat up later. Belle had thought the world of her, ever since. Dove's children had recently grown and left the house (his eldest fighting the latter recently married and moved off) and just as Belle had endeared herself to the cat lady, so had she to the woman who was lonely after seeing her children leave. Belle had insisted on inviting the Dove's over a few weeks after their wedding which in turn had them coming over to the Dove's a few weeks after that. So, Belle loved people, needed to be around them, and he would not be so cruel as to deny her that just because he didn't like being shown what Belle could have had.

It wasn't that he was jealous. Somewhere between their knitting sessions on the couch and the time he woke up from a nightmare being soothed on Belle's lap (which was just a couple of nights before, unfortunately), he had come to realize just how much he was loved by Belle. He was certain of that love. He had seen it written on the pages of letters he kept in his nightstand drawer, but it was something quite different to see it written on the lines of her face, the turn of her countenance, and the light in her eyes. She loved him. It was a fact that he still felt surprised by, when he walked into his house and had her smiling face to come home to, but he finally believed it with every fiber of his being.

No, he wasn't jealous. He was just self conscious.

He limped into the conference room where plates of food were served. It was conspicuously devoid of anything sweet, as the sugar shortage continued on and there seemed to be no end in sight. No matter, there was enough for it to feel a bit like a feast of appetizers. After a year and a half of eating seemingly little and walking too much of it off, he still felt guilty for eating such varied things when he knew men were still out there eating the same bread and coffee they had always done.

As soon as they entered he could feel Belle at his arm, gravitating towards the Doves-the only ones she really knew. Her smile was to her eyes and those eyes were sparkling in anticipation. She instantly charmed the ones she did not know, and Scarlett pranced over all swagger and smirk and tried to do his own charming of his audience. Belle's grip on his arm grew stronger anytime the handsome lawyer began to extoll her virtues, and Roger couldn't help but feel a rather smug grin form on his face at the way Belle wanted to be near him when the lawyer was around.

He wouldn't question Belle's judgment, not when it went in such a satisfactory way as it had with him, but he could not help but be aware of the way the lawyer lept into action whenever Belle's drink needed refilling, something he could not do with as much speed, let alone grace, especially if he was holding his own glass in his hand. The man claimed (and he supposed he must be believed) that he was partially deaf in one ear, and used the claim to say 'I beg your pardon?' when Belle observed something, to get all up in her personal space, asking her to repeat what she had said. Scarlett laughed at anything slightly funny, and became a charmer to all in his own right-he socially danced among the number, making small talk seem as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

'You were very quiet tonight.' Belle observed on their way home.

'Aye, I'm sorry-I'm not very…'

'Social' they both said at the same time, Belle taking a breath as she did, as if she were relieved.

'I'm sorry, I forgot-It's easy to forget when you're such a great conversationalist around me.' It was dark in the car, but he could almost hear the way she smiled, and if he had any guess, she probably had her teeth on her bottom lip.

'You are easy to talk to.' He tried to chuckle with the words. It was true-she was the person he was most comfortable around.

'And so, you being so quiet, you were just uncomfortable?' She seemed to suspect that there was something more-she was a smart, bonnie lass, his wife.

'Aye, mostly, though it didnae help that William Scarlett seemed all too happy that you were there.'

His heart thumped and ached in his chest, nerves getting the best of him. He was basically saying he was a jealous husband who worried over his wife. Belle could very well be upset with him, he supposed. Instead, to his great surprise, she giggled.

'He was rather, um, overwhelming. I didn't like to say anything because I know he's one of the lawyers, but there is such a thing as being too charming, especially with a married woman! I am glad that I'm not the only one annoyed.'

He breathed a sigh of relief, before realizing that Scarlett had made her uncomfortable.

'We could have left sooner, I'm sorry Belle, I should have realized that you didnae feel comfortable…'

'Oh it's alright. I never felt unsafe, or really uncomfortable, per se. I just would have rather spent more time with the Doves than trying to navigate Mr. Scarlett's very friendly manners. He seems harmless, I think-he did not give me such a feeling as some men could, but I think he might flirt with anything he thought only slightly pretty and half amusing.'

'And you would be the bonniest…'

'Oh I don't know about all that.'

'I do.' he said with conviction though she had said it with half a giggle. 'I am well aware of the disparity-that I…'

'Roger.'

'When your wee photograph was sent to me, a few of the men happened upon it. No one was more surprised than I that you had turned out to be so bonnie, but the men were also very vocal about their shock. This war-I sometimes worry…' He almost couldn't get through it. What had been heavy on his soul, well, since his leg blew off and he realized just how beautiful his Belle really was.

'Roger, what is it?' Her voice was worried now.

'I-I see a man like Scarlett, able bodied. I remember men, men who will come back from the war more intact than I'll ever be. Those men would be lined up around the block if they thought they had a chance.'

'Roger…' She said once more but her voice had none of the levity it had from before.

'And I know you love me. I see that now, though it still shocks me that one so bonnie would want someone like me, but it doesnae do nothing for the thoughts. I'm not just broken during the night, Belle, I'm broken in every way possible. Running around with our wee bairns will never be possible no matter how quick I get with this prosthetic.' The car seemed awfully dark, even as they pulled closer to their little home. His thoughts were so dark that they had permeated the surroundings.

'You do have physical limitations, Roger, I'll not patronize you by claiming anything less.' Her words were almost sharp and he felt his body stiffen from the tone. 'But you , your character, the very things that make you the Roger Gold that I fell in love with-am in love with.' Her tone took a softer path with this. 'Is still very much intact. And I wouldn't trade that for anyone.' Her voice now seemed to break, as if she had spoken over a lump in her throat.

'Belle' her name was such an anchor for his soul to cling to.

'I know that what you've gone through has made you feel things that no one ought, and to think of yourself as less than what you are-but I think you are doing me a disservice if you believe me so shallow as to think I might be better off with someone simply because they have blonde hair and can dance a jig.' she was almost scoffing, and he was beginning to see what she was saying though the words were both painfully honest and soothingly gentle. 'Honestly, I much prefer a man with moppy brown hair and soft brown eyes, you know-that is quite the definition of handsome to me.'

They had arrived home by now, and the soft glow of their outdoor lamp made Belle's gentle smile visible.

'And I cannae say I'm not glad for your lack of taste!' He chuckled with a self deprecating laugh.

'Mmm, I think that you need to learn that you aren't perhaps as bad off as you think you are. And I don't say that to downplay what you have gone through, and even your current struggles but here we are now, right? We have a nice little home, you are working towards a good future for us. God has been very good to us, don't you think?'

He should have scolded himself for having been so selfish, and he would do so thoroughly when he got to bed that night, he was sure, but for now, he understood that his beautiful, wonderful Belle was saying that he should simply be thankful and soldier on. She had chosen him, wanted him, that ought to be enough-it would be enough. He nodded his head in the soft light of the car and simply said, 'Aye, he has at that.' and promised himself to be the best version of the man Belle loved, even if that meant accepting that he would never be what he wanted to be for her, and let that be enough.

Author's Note 2:

History Stuff: A sugar shortage is mentioned, and began around the summer of 1944 and didn't end until well after the war ended. This caused eating establishments, all kinds of headaches in its wake. This means that while Mrs. Dove made them a wedding dinner, it probably didn't include a cake. I looked at many pictures and descriptions of office parties in the 1940s to base this one, however, I did very little in the description of it. Know that it probably had a Christmas tree, weighed down with tinsel, and everyone was in dark suits and dresses :) Everything was very much in Roger's head and while he is a great observer, he was too preoccupied with feeling sorry for himself and possibly for Belle to be thinking too much about if there was a wreath hanging somewhere or not. Story Stuff: While I didn't watch the season with Belle in Camelot (let's be honest, Rumbelle were a hot mess for way too long during this time and caused me to re-watch the first few seasons, instead), I have seen the scenes with Belle in the dark green dress-it's gorgeous! Thought I would include a 1940s version here :) I know it may feel that Roger went 'two steps back', however, with him being in the middle of night terrors and constant reminders of what he went through during the war, I felt that it made sense for him to have some of these thoughts. He is communicating with Belle, though, which is a good sign :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I always love hearing what you think! Thank you for reading.