If I Can't Have you

(47) Its my decision

She steps forwards, placing a hand on his cheek as a tear fell from her eye, "I love you, but I won't succumb to something like this again. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," Tommy whispers, leaning into her touch, kissing her palm.

"I'm going to stay at Max's for a few days," she tells him.

"No, it's your house," Tommy replies, "you're the one who's going to stay."

"I didn't want it to come to this," Jemima tells him softly.

"I know," Tommy sighs, "I'm sorry."

Jemima leans up, pressing a kiss to his lips, "I'm going to miss you."

Tommy can't find it in himself to respond, too afraid that he'll end up breaking down instead. It was all his fault. He was frustratedly aware of that, that he has driven her away. That he'd broken his promise to never make her feel like the others had.

Softly he kisses her back, indulging himself, savouring her before she pulls way from him.

Silently, they walk to the front door, he opens it, he goes to speak but not words end up forming as he steps out of the door. He turns to her, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away her tears.

Slowly, Jemima shuts the door, unable to stop a sob from breaking out as she rests her head against the door. It was over. There was no longer a them.

-

"You look like shit," Polly tells her nephew.

"Fuck off," Tommy mumbles.

"What's wrong?" Esmé asks.

"Jemima..." Tommy says, "she ended it."

"Why?" Polly queries, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I fucked up," Tommy admits.

"Well... obviously," Esmé remarks, "what did you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tommy replies, reaching for his bottle of whiskey, which Polly swiftly moved out of his grasp.

"Drinking isn't going to make it better," Polly states firmly.

"I don't know what else to fucking do," Tommy huffs.

"Did you apologise."

"Yes - not that it makes my actions any more forgivable," Tommy responds.

"You must have really fucked up," Esmé snorts.

"Don't you have my brother to be shagging?" Tommy remarks.

"Thomas, we get you're upset, but you're being rude," Polly scolds.

"Besides John isn't home, I'm guessing he's with Jemima," Esmé responds.

"I wish I was with Jemima," Tommy whispers so quietly the women didn't hear.

-

"So you're a lonesome man now?" A female voice questions, taking a seat beside him.

"Piss off, Margaret," Tommy groans.

"Ironic, isn't it? You break it off with Lizzie for Jemima, and then Jemima breaks it off with you," Maggie Stark continues.

Tommy was too drunk to even hold himself up, too drunk to move a muscle. He was essentially on the borders of passing out.

Maggie places another drink in front of him, he pushes it away from him, attempting to move in the opposite direction of the women.

"Come on," Maggie whispers in his ear as he tries to shrug her away, her hand coming to rest on his thigh.

"Get off me," Tommy slurs, trying to push her hands off him, almost falling of the chair in the process.

"I can help you forget about her," she says, sliding her hand up his thigh.

"Get the fuck off me," Tommy states as coherently as he can in his current state, shoving her hand off his leg. His head falling back against the chair, "please just fuck off, I don't want you anywhere near me."

Maggie takes advantage of the fact he's not looking at her and quickly manoeuvres herself onto his lap, forcefully pressing her lips to his.

Tommy jolts, falling onto the floor. When he finally manages to push himself off the floor, he looks at Margaret, "what the fuck!"

"Good luck trying to get her back now," Maggie smirks, winking at him and then looking straight past him, causing him to spin finding Esmé stood there, arms folded over her chest glaring at the both of them.

"Esmé," Tommy breathes out, raising a hand to the back of his pounding head, and her look towards him softens.

"Get out of this fucking pub," Esmé states, intensely staring at Maggie, "he's drunk out of his head, what do you think you're doing! I have the mind to cut your tongue out your fucking mouth."

"Bye Thomas," Maggie smiles, sliding out of the chair, waving at him as she walks out of the pub.

"I didn't-" Tommy tells Esmé frantically.

"I know." Esmé assures him, sitting him back down. She'd only gone to the bar to get him a glass of water, Polly was still talking to Harry. She'd walked back in as Tommy was telling Maggie to get off him. That was all she needed to hear to know that Tommy was not at fault for this.

"She kissed me, I didn't want her to," Tommy says.

"I know you didn't, I believe you, Thomas," Esmé replies, passing him the glass, "drink up, Arthur is on his way to take you home."

"Jemima is my home," Tommy mumbles.

"Then Arthur is coming to take you to a bed," Esmé says.

-

"What did you do?" John asks, "she wouldn't tell me."

"If I tell you, you're going to hate me just as much as she does." Tommy states.

"She doesn't hate you, Tom," John replies, "she feels betrayed, so what did you do? Did you cheat on her?"

Tommy hesitates before adamantly shaking his head, what happened yesterday with Margaret didn't count as cheating, right?

"A guy showed up to her house the other day, a teacher, Stuart Baker, he offered her a job," Tommy explains, "I thought the timing and the randomness of it suspicious, and so I may have acted on her behalf and rejected the job for her."

"Wow," John says, "you truly are an arse."

"Is she alright?" Tommy asks.

"She will be," John nods.

"Have I lost her forever?"

John pauses, "no, I don't think so. I think she just wants some space, you may have to show her she can trust you again, but I don't think she'll hold this against you forever."