Loved-Past Tense

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns TMI and all it's characters.

Songs

Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood

Belong by Cary Brothers

He stood there before their apartment door, lingering as he pulled up the collar of his jacket, hiding the purpling mark on his neck. He bowed his head, ashamed.

His hand hovered over the door knob and he paused. Clary would be mad. She would. But what else was she to assume when he came home late from work almost every day? He wanted to tell her. So, so badly. He had written her a letter too, but apparently she never found it, or she'd have left.

He felt like she knew it, like she was waiting for that one final shove to leave. He didn't understand why she didn't just pack up. If it were anyone else, they'd do it. What was Clary waiting for?

He sighed and leaned his forehead against the door, and then decided he didn't want to deal with the guilt tonight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, calling up Raphael as he turned around and left the apartment building. Then, once they decided to meet at Pandemonium, he called up Aline.

Clary lay curled up in her blanket in the guest room, not wanting to be surrounded by Jace's things and possessions in their room. She wouldn't be able to bear it if another woman's perfume wafted through the air in there again. Day after day after day, she said nothing as he made excuses and sometimes when he gave her no explanation at all of why he came home late.

Today, it would be a shame if it happened again because it was the fifth anniversary of their engagement. It was a long engagement, but Jace never seemed to have time to settle down and pick a date. Clary had tried to reason with him lots of times, but he always told her to understand. But now, Clary suspected it was because he wanted to have an option of wanting out.

Clary's phone chimed, alerting her of a message. She had gotten used to this sound as she heard it most of the days lately. It would be Jace with an excuse. He never bothered calling. She sighed and flipped open her phone, hoping it wouldn't be another one of his usual messages. The least he could do was remember the day they got engaged.

Apparently, he didn't because when she clicked the message icon, she was greeted by a message which read, 'Sorry, I'm going to be late. Got a meeting to attend.'

Sorry. Always sorry.

Jace sat at the bar, his Scotch forgotten as the bartender flashed him a flirty smile and leaned over the counter, giving him a decent view of her cleavage. Her brown almond eyes raked his body and her straight black hair brushed his arm. According to her name tag, her name was Aline. But he knew that anyway.

Clary's best friend, Aline Penhallow— who knew of Clary's engagement to Jace—seductively pressed his lips to his ear and whispered, 'You and me, the back room. In five.' With that, she was gone, bustling over to others. Jace smirked.

He knew what he was doing was wrong. He did, but somehow, his love for Clary had subsided over the years. He was only thankful he hadn't married her; it would only break her heart even more. But he couldn't stay at home and struggle to not confess everything to her. Though he wanted to, he knew it would shatter her. And it wasn't a recent thing. He'd been at it for two years now.

He felt his hand being tugged by Aline as she led him through the crowd on the dance floor, and towards the back room.

'Hello, this is Herondale Industries Limited, how may I help you?' a female's voice said on the other end of the line, seemingly bored. Clary walked around their apartment, through every room except theirs.

'Yes, this is Clarissa Fairchild. I wanted to talk to Jonathan, if you could put me on the line,' she said, just hoping he'd be there and had not lied to her again.

'Hold, please,' the voice said, and then Clary heard shuffling and then a, 'Magnus, is he here?'

Clary heard a muffled voice say, 'Here? When is he ever here after six in the evening?'

She felt her heart drop when the female said, 'It's his fiancé. She doesn't know, does she?'

Clary heard the man sigh and then in a pitiful tone, he said, 'No. She doesn't know about it. He's made a lot of effort to make sure she never knows because though he doesn't love her anymore, he cares. If he didn't care, he'd parade his whores around, not meet them secretly.' The woman had probably forgotten to press the hold button on the phone.

Clary's eyes didn't fill with tears, her heart didn't break. It had already been breaking little by little every day because though he might not have felt the way he used to about her, she did.

Jace stumbled out of the back room, shirt in hand, ignoring Aline's protests. He had to tell her. And he had to tell her now. He wasn't about to wait around for five more years or until they grew old. He had to get it over with, and he knew it'd hurt her but he'd rather do it now than later.

He pulled his shirt over his head wove through the crowds, intent on doing the one thing he promised himself he'd never do, which was to leave Clary.

Clary pulled out her sketchpad, and she saw a note addressed to her fall out of the pages. It was definitely meant to be found.

Clary,

I cannot look at you every day, hear your voice everyday and pretend that I feel something for you which I felt a long time ago and don't anymore. And worse, I tell you things I don't mean anymore. I tell you I love you, that I'll never leave you, that I'll always be here for you and that you're the only one for me. You were. Past tense.

This may seem harsh, I know, but it's the only way to tell you what I may never be able to tell you to your face. I want to feel that way again, I want to go back to where we started, but as much as I wish for it to happen, I need to face reality and admit it to myself and you. It's not going to happen.

I remember how you wished for someone who'd build a future with you, who'd give you all of them and who'd never look at another woman, who'd have a family with you. Once upon a time, I promised you all that and I know what a hypocrite I'm being by hating people who break promises and breaking them myself.

So, I'm sorry. This time, I mean it. Obviously, I'm not good for you because I break your heart every day. And I don't deserve you because you let me.

So I won't hold it against you if you leave me. In fact, I'd understand because I can't do this anymore, all this lying and cheating. So what I'm asking of you is for you to find someone who is going to love you for all their life, not just a few years.

I care about you, and though I may not love you, I hope the best for you.

Jace

I'm not going to find someone because you've ruined that for me, Jace, Clary thought as she pulled the ring from her finger and set it on their nightstand, on his letter. She wasn't going to hang around anymore.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and shut the door to her former home behind her.

I should've done this ages ago.

Jace turned the knob of their room and saw it stripped of Clary's belongings. His gaze caught on a glinting diamond ring nestled on a piece of crumpled paper which he identified as his letter.

Instead of feeling remorseful and sad, he felt relieved. Relieved that he wouldn't have to pretend for another day.

So…I wrote this in the afternoon, because I heard the cover version of Sweater Weather by Max Schneider and Alyson Stoner on repeat and couldn't get one of the meanings of the song out of my head. Also, Belong by Cary Brothers has a similar interpretation.

Also, everyone just love xXxNtKxXx for appreciating the beauty that is Max Schneider with me. Because he is beautiful, okay? Don't argue.

Drop a review if you liked it!

-Arelia