“What happened to it?”
I sigh. “I left it in a hotel room. It’s when we were moving around a lot, staying in hotels. I left it in bed. I cried for weeks.”
Jace pulls me closer to him. “At least we have the memories.”
I nod and we sit in silence, just watching people go by.
“I’m glad you still have some good memories with your mom. After mine left, it was just him. No softness. No breaks. Just… training, orders, criticism. Always pushing. Always reminding me that one day I’d run the Guild, and it’d better be on his terms.”
My chest tightens. “That’s… a lot for a kid.”
He gives a small, almost bitter smile. “It was. But I guess it made me who I am. Just not in the way he wanted.” His eyes flick to mine in a way that makes my stomach flip. “Because if it had been up to him, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”
Something in my chest shifts. I squeeze his hand tighter.
Jace is quiet for a while, watching the swirl of snow in the light between us. Kids chasing after the flurries with wide smiles.
“Can I ask you something?” His tone is careful—not the teasing, cocky Jace everyone else gets, but a softer, more vulnerable version.
“Yeah,” I say softly.
He glances at me, searching my face. “Why did you keep going back?”
“Back?”
“To Daniel. To your mom.” He hesitates, jaw working. “I’ve read the files. I’ve seen what he did to you in the end. You could have left, stayed with Maeve. I just… I don’t understand why you kept going back.”
The air between us feels heavier now, the sounds of the market fading into the background. I take a slow breath, eyes dropping to my lap.
“Because it wasn’t always like that,” I murmur. “When I was little, my mom… she was different. She used to sing in the kitchen. She’d let me stay up late to watch old movies. She’d braid my hair before school and tell me I was the most beautiful girl in the world.”
My throat tightens, but I push through it.
“Even after things started to change—after Daniel—I kept thinkingmaybe I could get her back to that. That if I stayed, if I was good enough, careful enough… she’d remember how to be that person again.”
Jace’s gaze doesn’t waver. There’s no judgment there, only something achingly understanding.
“I guess,” I continue. “I wanted to hold onto those good memories so badly that I was willing to take all the bad ones too. Because letting go of her meant letting go of that little girl who believed her mom loved her.”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. His hand finds mine again.
“You didn’t deserve any of that,” he says finally, voice low and with a hint of anger.
The knot in my chest loosens just a fraction, enough for me to squeeze his hand back. “I know.”
And somehow, sitting here in the cold with Jace looking at me like that, I almost believe it.
For a while, we just sit there, hands clasped, letting the bustle of the market fade into a distant hum. The cold nips at my cheeks, but Jace’s hand is solid and warm around mine, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“You know…” he says after a beat, his voice softer now, “I used to think love was supposed to be a transaction. You do something right, you earn it. You screw up, you lose it. That’s how my dad raised me.”
I glance at him, catching the faint, wry twist of his mouth.
“But watching you…” He shakes his head slightly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You give it, even when you don’t realize it. Even when someone doesn’t deserve it. Like me, I definitely don’t deserve a second of your time.”
“I don’t know if that’s a strength or a weakness,” I admit.
“Both,” he says, like it’s obvious. “But it’s one of the things I…” He trails off, looking away for a second before his eyes find mine again. “One of the things I admire most about you.”
