Hello! Thank you guys for the lovely reviews, I'm glad you are all liking the story and the regular updates! Here's another chapter for you, hope you enjoy! :)

There were a lot of things Clary had not anticipated that morning. She had not anticipated being made a full breakfast. She had not anticipated Jace rushing out to work super early. And she had certainly not anticipated Jace barging back into the apartment in the middle of the school day. This was so unanticipated, in fact, that Clary was in nothing but a towel, sitting on the couch, when Jace barged through the entryway.

She yelped in surprise, arms quickly coming up to secure the towel around herself as Jace, observing the situation, quickly averted his eyes.

"Sorry," he said a bit awkwardly, "I thought you would be decent."

Clary noted with a little bit of amusement that when she had first met Jace, he probably would have made a comment about her being naked in his living room. Her heart softened as she considered how much they had grown to love and respect one another. That was soon replaced, however, by her growing confusion of why he had returned home in the middle of the work day.

"Why aren't you at school!?"

Jace laughed uncomfortably, "I've been fired," he said.

Clary's eyes widened. "Oh my god, what? Why? What happened?"

Jace hesitantly made his way to the couch, sitting beside her but being sure to avert his gaze. "Do you often parade around my apartment in a towel when I'm not here?"

Clary felt her cheeks flame. "Aren't there more important things to discuss?" She felt embarrassed to be sitting here in only her towel, but knew that Jace tended to deflect questions that made him uncomfortable. She recalled the way he looked this morning, so worn and exhausted, and felt a fierce and biting concern for him. "You can look at me, you know" she said, at last, "Everything's covered up. I won't be scandalized."

Jace glanced over and grinned at her wickedly, "I should have known you would prey on my virtue. When you first showed up you were revealing your ankles, that was the first red flag."

Clary laughed, finding the idea of Jace being the victim of anyone's sexual wiles absurd. Her laughter diffused quickly, however, as she reminded herself of the subject at hand. She studied him curiously now and realized he looked like a completely different person than the one she had seen this morning. The tired circles were still there, but his eyes were brighter now. He seemed to smile more freely, offering her now that beautiful crooked smile that made her breath catch in her throat. It was if all the tension he had been carrying had just… vanished. She'd expected him to be upset that he'd been fired but he looked relieved. Elated, even.

"Jace," she said, carefully, "Is everything alright?"

He still wore that crooked smile, "I've never been better, Clary." His gaze fell upon her, tender and heated, and she tried not to shift under the weight of it. It was strange, she noticed, that her discomfort had nothing to with being so exposed in front of Jace. Rather, it was the warm flutter she felt in her chest that unnerved her, the ache for something more than a chaste look.

She bit her lip out of habit and tried to shake away her indecent thoughts before they were her undoing. "What happened at work, Jace?"

Earlier that morning

Mr. Herondale stared at the papers Jace had laid out on the table: his birth certificate, some pictures, and an old letter written by his late mother.

"I remember your mother very fondly," he said, at last. Jace had thought about what this day would be like many, many times. Had wondered if his biological father would be mad, accepting, or loving. He was never sure what he wanted. He supposed, most of all, he just wanted the truth to belong to someone other than himself. Mr. Herondale met Jace's eyes, his expression remorseful, "I am so sorry to hear of her passing."

"It happened a long time ago," Jace said, finding it hard to speak. There had been so much anticipation for this moment, building since he was 10 years old, and now it almost felt… dull. He had worked so hard to get to this point and only now, as he was sitting in this chair, did he realize that it didn't really matter what came of it. He already had a family, already had a father who he had loved, and two adoptive parents who did their best to treat him as their own. And one day, he hoped, he'd have Clary. He'd spent so much time searching, but it hadn't been for this moment. It had been for jade green eyes, fiery hair, and freckled skin. Suddenly, he felt calm.

"Look Mr. Herondale, I'm going to be honest. I'd been trying to find you for the larger part of my adult life. I found out you worked here about a year back, and I walked in here with the intention of telling you right then. But you thought that I was here to enquire about your job vacancy and I thought it must have been some strange sign. What were the odds? That you would be looking to hire english teachers at the same time I came in here? So I applied for the job. I thought maybe I could get to know you on the sidelines and that would be enough," Jace laughed a bit, feeling his confidence slowly return to him, "Things really started to spiral from there."

It was freeing, to finally be telling the truth and realize that he didn't care about the outcome. The weight of his lies were slowly coming off.

"I'm sorry that I didn't know about you," Mr. Herondale said, regretfully, "I would have tried to contact you. I'm sorry that you have dedicated so much of your life trying to find me. That must have been a great burden, especially in your time spent at this school. To know such a thing and feel as if you could not tell me."

Jace blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected to feel so… seen, for his biological father to be so sympathetic to a grown man, who he hardly knew outside of a professional relationship.

"From what I have observed about you, Mr. Wayland, you seem every bit the kind of man I would have hoped to raise. You're smart. You're charismatic. You're kind and patient with your students. You have passion for what you do. I'm sure you're father would be very proud to see you now. And though I had no hand at it, I am proud of you too, as both a boss and a newfound biological father."

Jace sat back in his chair, his head whirling. This is so much more than what he had expected. He had expected outrage at Jace's deceit, denial of the affair, at least something more explosive. He could never let himself imagine his biological father being so pleasant and accepting, too afraid to build his hopes up and have them be inevitably crushed. Even now, he held his breath, waiting for at least something to go wrong.

"I really appreciate you saying that, Mr. Herondale."

"You can call me Stephen," he responded charitably.

"Stephen," Jace said, feeling odd saying the name, "There is still one other thing. When I interviewed here, I lied and said that I had a fiance."

Jace saw surprise flash behind Stephen's eyes, their golden color very similar to his own,"But that redheaded girl-"

"I hope," his voice shook a bit, "I hope that one day she might be. But it wasn't fair of me to have ever put that on her, or to have lied to you."

Stephen looked dubious, most likely processing everything. Jace couldn't imagine what kind of man you had to be to learn you had a grown son, who had been working with and lying to you for the past year, and still respond so graciously.

"Mr. Wayland-"

"You can call me Jace."

"Jace," he said at last. Jace noticed a shake in Stephen's voice, as well. As if saying his name made it real. "You're putting me in a really difficult position here."

"It's okay," Jace offered him a freeing smile. Telling the truth had undone all the tension in his body. He felt weightless for the first time in weeks. "I'm ready to move on. I've loved this job, but I came to it for the wrong reasons. I'd been so consumed by wanting to find you and tell you the truth that I hadn't even realized it didn't matter to me anymore. What matters to me is…"

"The red haired girl?" Stephen guessed with a knowing smile.

"Clary," Jace supplied, and even just saying her name made his heart thrum lighter in his chest. "I've never felt anything like it, I… it's like everything stopped and suddenly there was only Clary. The world could be burning and as long as she was there with me, it would be alright."

Jace began to stand up, smoothing down the wrinkles of his suit that had appeared by having sat too long. "I can finish the school day, if you need."

"It's okay, we can assign the perm sub to your class. Go back to Clary, be honest with her. I wish you luck, Jace," Stephen extended his hand for a shake and Jace took it. "And please, reach out if you would like to meet the rest of your family. You're welcome to visit me anytime."

"Thank you, Sir," Jace said with a grin. His heart was singing. For the first time in a long while, he felt free.

"So long story short," Jace said, eyes adoringly set on Clary, "You don't need to pretend to be my fiance anymore. You're free."

Sitting next to Clary in nothing but a towel was a massive test of Jace's self restraint. He could feel the tension in his body from holding back the temptation of sneaking any looks. He had made so many strides today, the last thing he wanted to do was backtrack by making her uncomfortable. Still, he could feel his pulse in his throat like a drum beat, resisting the ache he felt from how desperately he wanted to reach out and pull her to him, to kiss her until he forgot his own name.

"So… what now?" Clary asked, oblivious to his thoughts.

Jace cleared his throat, chasing away his indecent musings. When he spoke, his voice sounded uneven, "Why don't you get dressed. And then i have something to show you."

Clary seemed to have been so caught up in the news that she forgot she was wearing a towel. Her cheeks flushed scarlet red, which didn't remedy Jace's wanting, and she hastily went into the bedroom to change.

When she came back out, Jace motioned for her to follow and they left the apartment. They walked until they came in front of the pawn shop, now completely empty.

Clary's brows furrowed in confusion. "My moms old art gallery?"

"I lied to you, this morning," Jace said, ignoring her question. "It was the executor to my dad's will on the phone, but he wasn't calling about Wayland Manor, though I did ask after it. He called me because I had wanted access to the accounts my dad had left for me. I hadn't really had a reason to use them, until now," Jace handed her a piece of paper, and watched nervously as her eyes scanned it over, "I said that I would pay you, when we first started doing this. And if you want actual money, that's fine. But when you told me this place was for sale… I knew I had to get it. There's a loft… so you can stay here if you don't want to keep staying with me. I've already had them put some furniture in-"

Jace was cut off by Clary launching herself into his arms. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. He was scared to let her go, but what he wanted desperately more than anything was for her to be happy. He held her back, tight, hoping that it wouldn't be the last time.

When Clary pulled away, she had tears in her eyes. "This is so much more than I was ever expecting," she whispered, "Thank you, Jace."

He gently cupped her face and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed her forehead. "No. Thank you, Clarrissa Fray."

He reached for her hand and gently folded two keys into it, one for the art gallery and one for his apartment. He rested his head against hers and felt Clary lean in too. The reality of the moment was setting in and started to feel himself become undone.

"I would like to see you again," he whispered, and his voice sounded rough to his own ears, "but I understand if you need time… an-and space… to process everything."

Clary said nothing, but she was still crying. From happiness or sadness, he wasn't sure. He was uncertain which of the two he felt, as well, though he felt something akin to agony begin to seep in his chest at the thought of never sleeping beside her again. He shut his eyes and reveled in her closeness, thinking he should savor it while he still had the chance. Distantly, he felt himself shaking. He gripped her hands a bit tighter in a half attempt to still himself, when he realized that it was actually Clary.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling away. He felt like crying out from the loss of contact, but was too overwhelmed with concern. He quickly shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Their eyes met, her deep green irises shining with fresh tears. She said nothing, but he felt as if she was trying to communicate something as their eyes locked. He searched them curiously, trying desperately to understand. I don't want you to go, he tried to say with his own. Please stay with me.

Clary drew his coat closer around her, looking as if she were debating something. He moved closer to ask what and suddenly they were kissing. Jace was surprised, at first, but melted into it. His arms snaked around her waist to pull her closer, so that she was flush against him. Clary's lips were tender, but her fingers gripped tightly at his hair, scorching his skin where she touched. There was something desperate in her movements. He tried to respond with tenderness, to show her how much he loved her, so that even if this was the last time they kissed, she would know.

Clary broke away almost as quickly as she'd initiated it, her eyes wild. Jace felt like a flame that had been doused with water. He longed for more, his fingers and lips still tingling from where he had touched her.

"Goodbye, Jace," she whispered, and he felt his heart crumble. The wind could have blown him away, then, with all the pieces he had broken into. But if this is what she wanted he would never take that away from her. He mustered up a crooked smile, though he felt disconnected from it.

"Goodbye, Clary."

Thanks for reading guys! Hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more tomorrow! :)