Celine Herondale lived in a quaint brownstone in the city. She was a jeweler with her own store where she sold new pieces and repaired old ones, not an almost-retired salesperson soaking up the rays in California. Jace informed me she was the one who had fixed my locket and reassured me she had no idea about the tracking device he put in it. "She was about ready to kick my ass when she found out," he said. I made a mental note to ask him to take the device out the next time we were alone. It might have saved my life, but he didn't need to constantly know my location.
I wrapped my arms around my middle and slowly followed Jace into the house. I'd never met the parents before, and I was nervous. Did this even count as meeting the parents? Jace and I were no longer in a relationship. At least I didn't think we were. There had never been an explicit breakup, but Jason Wayland wasn't real. That implied a breakup, right? I couldn't date someone who didn't exist.
Jace Herondale, however, was very real. A real man with a real mom. A real mom who I desperately hoped liked me, despite all the unknowns surrounding me and her son.
"Ma?" Jace called out.
"In the kitchen!" replied a tinkling female voice.
I took in the warm wood floors and brown leather furniture as we walked back toward the kitchen. Pictures lined the cinnamon walls, chronicling Jace's life. I recognized some of them as copies of the ones Jace sent me.
Jace's mom was a petite woman, only an inch or so taller than me, with thick blonde hair cut in a bob at her shoulders. The corners of her striking green eyes crinkled as her full, pink-stained lips softly curved into a smile. She was beautiful, which was no surprise considering how handsome her son was.
"You must be Clary," she said, setting a knife down and wiping her hands on a gray-blue tea towel. "Jace has told me so much about you."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Herondale," I said politely.
"Call me Celine," she corrected before pulling me into a hug. It was the kind of comforting embrace you would expect from a mother, and I had to blink back tears.
She pulled away, and her delicate fingers lifted the locket laying against my chest.
"Truly a lovely piece," she said softly. "I'm glad I could fix it for you."
"Thank you. It was my mom's and it means a lot to me to be able to wear it again," I replied.
Smiling, she dropped the chain. "You two hungry? I made lunch."
"Starving," Jace groaned.
His mom laughed, the sound like bells, and asked him to set the table. I offered to help, but Celine said she would like a moment alone with me. Jace made sure I was comfortable with that before gathering the plates and utensils and disappearing to the dining room.
"Can you stir that while I finish cutting these?" she asked, handing me a wooden spoon. She went back to chopping herbs. We worked in comfortable silence for a bit before she spoke again. "I know what Jace did. Well, as much as he could tell me."
"Hm," I hummed, not taking my eyes off the sauce as I moved the spoon in lazy circles. I didn't think this was a conversation I wanted to have with his mom, and it definitely was not one suited for our first meeting.
"He risked coming to see me while he was undercover, and not just for your locket," she revealed. The sound of the knife on the cutting board was a steady rhythm in the background. "What he feels for you is very real, Clary. When he first developed feelings, he came to me for advice. He stopped by the store every few weeks, and I watched as he fell more and more in love with you. I'd never seen him so happy. The night you learned his true identity destroyed him."
"Yeah?" I snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "He wasn't the only one." I was trying not to sound bitter. Celine hadn't done anything wrong, and Jace was her son. But I didn't want to hear about how hurt Jace was when he had no one to blame but himself.
She sighed, dropped the knife, and pulled the spoon out of my hand in a fluid motion.
"My son showed up in the middle of the night looking more distraught and broken than I've ever seen him aside from the day we lost Stephen. He was—is—terrified of losing you. We all know he made a mistake, and maybe I'm biased because he is still my baby boy, but he deserves another chance," she said. "You both do. In the few minutes you've been here, I've seen the way you look at him. It's the same way he looks at you. The way I used to look at Stephen."
For the first time, I admitted my feelings out loud and to someone other than myself. "I still love him," I mumbled. Maybe if the words were intelligible it would make them less real. "I'm just not sure I can get over the deceit."
"Oh, honey." She placed a hand on my shoulder. "What you and Jace have is once in a lifetime love. Take it from me, that is not something you want to lose. You have to consider if holding onto the hurt is worth missing out on all the love and happiness."
We'd kept Jace waiting long enough, and I helped Celine take the food out to the table. I tucked her words away for the time being. They could be mulled over later when I was by myself and had no outside parties trying to influence me.
Celine spent lunch telling me stories about Jace and his childhood and even stepped out to grab baby photos to go along. There are some stories he hadn't included in the box, like the time he asked to bathe in spaghetti for his birthday or when he broke his arm trying to learn to skateboard.
It all felt so normal in a way I never experienced. For those few short hours, I was not Valentine Morgenstern's daughter and Jace wasn't a former FBI agent. No secrets were being kept and no judgements were being made. I was just an ordinary girl meeting an ordinary boy's mother.
As evening approached, we decided it was time to leave, and I promised Celine I'd stop by to see her again in the future. It was late to be driving back to the farmhouse, and Jace said he would take me to a hotel for the night. He also offered to take me home if I really wasn't comfortable, but I shut down both ideas.
"Can you take me to your apartment?" I asked. "Your real apartment."
Jace was apprehensive but ultimately agreed. The drive wasn't that far from his mom's and it would be easier than having him drop me off at a hotel and pick me up the next morning. It also didn't hurt that it would allow him to keep an eye on me. There hadn't been another call from Jonathan, but that didn't mean he was lying dormant.
Jace Herondale's building was larger than Jason Wayland's, and his apartment was on the second to top floor instead of closer to the ground. But it was just as organized and bare as the other one. Mostly blank walls, few pieces of furniture, a lack of photographs and personal items, and everything in its place. When I commented on it, he shrugged.
"I've always been somewhat of a minimalist," was the only explanation he gave.
The apartment only had one bedroom, which Jace offered to me. I tried to argue, but Jace was a little old-fashioned and believed that as both the guest and the woman, I shouldn't be the one to sleep on the couch. I was too tired to put up much of a fight and relented. Jace got me set up in his room and grabbed a few of his things to take up residence in the living room. I stopped him before he could leave.
"Why did you bring me to meet your mom?" I asked. The question had been nagging at me all day.
"Because you're important to me," he said, "and when you took me to meet Valentine, I promised you could meet my parents. I may have told my fair share of lies, but I try to be a man of my word."
I woke up from another nightmare, only this time I was crying out as I reached consciousness and I couldn't recall the dream. Waking up in an unfamiliar room didn't help anything. I had expected Jocelyn's yellow walls and floral bedspread, but was met with stark white paint and a navy blue comforter. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was.
The door flew open and Jace burst in, gun in hand. "What's going on?" he demanded, eyes frantically assessing the room.
"Just another bad dream. Sorry." My voice was calm despite my still racing heart. While I didn't remember what had happened in the nightmare, my stomach was churning painfully. A sure sign it hadn't been at all pleasant. It must have had something to do with Jonathan again. Even if I didn't want to admit it, especially to Jace, I was on edge after the ominous ending to our phone call.
Seeing there was no threat, he lowered the weapon. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
I started to shake my head but stopped. There was one thing I wanted right now, and that was to not be alone.
"Will you, uh, will you stay with me?" I asked in a whisper.
Jace's features softened. "Yeah, of course. You sure?"
I nodded and he walked to the other side of the bed, placed his weapon on the nightstand, and slipped under the covers. He had thankfully been wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. I didn't think I could handle sharing a bed with him if he had any less clothing on. I lied back down and he pulled me close, his arm strong and secure over my waist.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his warm breath washing over the back of my neck.
"Mhm." I closed my eyes and placed my hand over his, easily falling back asleep in the safety of his hold.
Jace was already up with breakfast when I woke the next morning. There had luckily been no more nightmares, and I had one of the best nights of sleep I'd gotten in a while. After scrambled eggs and toast, we hit the road. As we reached the outskirts of the city, I impulsively asked Jace to change routes and directed him toward the cemetery. He gave me a quizzical look but didn't question it.
It was time for me to introduce him to Jocelyn. And it was time for me to get some more closure and finally say goodbye to Valentine. With everything going on, there had been no funeral service for my father. I wasn't sure anyone would have attended anyway, wanting to avoid being associated with a criminal. And it's not like the event wouldn't have been private. The paparazzi and media would have descended like vultures as soon as they caught word, and I didn't need my grieving to be public.
I had let Hodge take care of all the arrangements, and Valentine's final resting place was the plot next to the love of his life. There were fresh flowers on both graves, and I wondered if that was courtesy of Hodge. There was no way in hell it could have been Jonathan, and nobody else would have cared enough about Valentine. Not after all the stories coming out about the Circle.
My fingers wrapped around Jace's as we stood at my mom's grave. I took a moment to breathe in the cool and crisp fresh morning air and enjoy the stillness of the early hour.
"Hey, Mom," I said, my voice shaky. Jace squeezed my fingers. "Bet you're surprised to see me again so soon. A lot has happened, but I can fill you in on another day. For now, I wanted you to meet Jace. The one I was telling you about."
"Hi, Miss Fray," Jace started awkwardly. Talking out loud to your own dead relatives could feel weird enough. Having a one-sided conversation with someone else's loved one took it to another level.
I untangled my hand from his and stepped away to give him some privacy. I could hear his quiet voice but not make out the words as I sat on the soft grass in front of a new headstone.
"Hi, Dad." My voice cracked, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. He was never Dad. Always Valentine or Father. I never let him be Dad.
I picked at damp blades of grass as I apologized to him. For fighting against him at every step. For always keeping him at arm's length. For refusing to get to know him. For never letting him be the dad I knew he wanted to be. I told him I loved him and would always be grateful for everything he did.
I startled when Jace sat next to me. I hadn't noticed he stopped talking or had moved. He opened his arms, and I took the invitation. I crawled into his lap and sobbed into his chest as he rubbed my back and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I'm so sorry's and you're going to be okay's. I believed him. He'd shown he was sorry, and not only was I going to be okay, but we were going to be okay.
Slowly but surely getting there. With my rewrites, I'm not sure how many chapters are left (it was going to be 21 total but it's more now), but we are still nearing the of this journey.