Chapter 90 Chapter Ninety-One

Chapter 90 Chapter Ninety-One
Grace’s POV 

The fireworks exploded into the sky with a mix of colors, and Jace reached for my hand across the grass, slipping his fingers into the spaces between mine. I moved closer, leaning my head on his shoulder with a soft, small sigh. 

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” I whispered. “I’ve always wanted to see a firework display, but my mom only had Christmas Day off during the holidays, and I couldn’t ask her to come all the way with me.”

I couldn’t go on my own either, because each time I thought about leaving her alone, I felt very awful. She was working hard for me—for us—turning her palms into hardened callouses. 

“You’re right,” Jace agreed, with a wistful note in his voice. “It is very pretty.”

I turned my head a little, but he wasn’t looking at the display. He was gazing at me, his eyes shining with all the colors in the sky.

“I was talking about the fireworks,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said, smiling.

My stomach betrayed me with that familiar little flutter, and I rolled my eyes just enough to hide my grin. “I’ll take the compliment,” I shrugged, putting on an effort to act nonchalant. 

“I’ll take the compliment,” I shrugged, putting on an effort to act nonchalant.

“You should,” he nodded. “You look really stunning in that dress. And the clip in your hair is pretty.”

“Oh?” I blushed hard, reaching up with my fingers for the hair clip. It was an old thing, something I didn’t know I still had until I found it at the bottom of my things. 

Jace traced shapes over the back of my palm as he smiled. “The fireworks keep changing colors, and every time they do, your face changes with them. I’ve never seen anyone look so happy over something so simple.”

I ducked my head as my cheeks turned even brighter. 

“Rudolph,” he chuckled.

“What?”

He leaned closer. “The tip of your ears, Thompson. You can hide your face, but they’re as red as Rudolph’s nose.” 

“They’re not,” I argued, sitting upright and flicking the tips. A memory slipped into my mind. The night we watched The Great Gatsby. I’d been trying to convince myself back then that I didn’t need a boyfriend—they were distractions from my goal of getting into college. 

I knew I liked him back then, but he’d teased me about my ears too. 

“They.” Jace chuckled softly, taking my hand back. “It’s cute, though.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful. Every time I look at you, I think I fall a little bit more,” he murmured.  “It feels like I could look at you all day long, all year…all…” he trailed off. 

Another volley of fireworks shot into the sky, and I turned with a gasp, catching it just before it burst into colors.  A final one shot into the sky, covering the entire sky in a brilliant cascade of gold that lingered like glittering stars before fading into darkness. 

The show ended then, and applause rippled through the crowd around us, followed by the low chatter of people gathering their blankets and beginning to leave.

Jace squeezed my hand.

“Want to take a walk?” he asked.

I looked up at him, then around the park as the pathways slowly emptied beneath the glow of the lampposts.

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

He stood first, brushing the grass from his dress pants. Then he gently draped his jacket over my shoulder before offering me his hand. I took it without hesitation, and our fingers intertwined again. We wandered onto one of the winding paths, leaving the crowd and the fading echoes of the fireworks behind us.

I cleared my throat after a while, bringing up a topic. 

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask—actually, I told myself I wouldn’t ask,” I turned to him, biting my lower lip, hesitant to continue. “But if you want to share it with me, what he said…what happened, I’d be more than willing to listen.”

Jace sighed like it physically hurt him to speak. “He—my father wants me to go to college in state, so I’d work under him,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I told him I wasn’t going. That I’d find somewhere very far, just so I could keep him from trying to control my life.”

Oh. 

I frowned, chewing on my lip. 

He wanted to go out of state?  

“Did you mean it?” I asked, tentatively. A squirrel ran out of a bush, stopping to look at me dead in the eye before scurrying off. 

Jace shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about it before—like, it wasn’t something I was particular about, but now that I think about it, I don’t know. My mom won’t want me to go far, either. She thrives on making us look like one happy family. And if I’m out of state, it’ll put a stop to her plan.”

Oh. 

I felt a suspicion lump in my throat. 

Jace fell silent for a while, pausing when we got to a bench. He used his tie to wipe the surface before I sat down. And then he sat. 

“So yeah,” he added. “I think I want to go as far away as possible. I don’t need either of them meddling in my life.” He turned to me. “In our lives.”

Oh. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, peering closely at me. “You look worried.”

I shook my head quickly, pressing a smile on my lips. “I’m fine. I’m just…I guess I’m thinking about everything you’ve said. I don’t think I could deal with it, having parents who’re bent on controlling every aspect of your life. And there’s your brother too.”

I still hadn’t forgotten the bruises on his forehead. 

He laughed sadly, his arm slipping around my waist. I let him pull me closer, because I knew he needed it. The company, my presence, it was comforting for him as much as it was for me. 

“You get used to it,” Jace said. “After a while, you just get used to it happening.”

And that was why I couldn’t tell him the truth. 

That going out of state wasn’t in the cards for me. I couldn’t leave my mom alone. I couldn’t even think about it. Jace squeezed my hand. “Hey,” he smiled. “I’m fine. I promise. He did say I wasn’t going to get into college on my own, because I’m not smart…but I told you I had you. You’re the smartest person I know.”

I tried to smile back. “You’re pretty smart too.”

He tutted. “Not close to your level, Grace Thompson.  And that’s fine, because I prefer to brag to people that I have a brilliant girlfriend who’s going to become an amazing doctor one day.”

“When we go to college together, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll do the cooking and the cleaning and everything else, so you can focus on studying. Mm?”

I should tell him. 
I should—

I nodded instead, the words tasting like guilt on my tongue. “Okay.”

Jace’s grin returned so easily that my chest ached. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “That’s my girlfriend.”

I wrapped my arms around him before I could think too much about it, burying my face against his jacket. He hugged me back without hesitation, holding me close as the cold winter breeze drifted through the park.

For just a little while, I let myself pretend that we’d be packing for the same college, decorating an apartment together, arguing over whose turn it was to wash the dishes while he made dinner.

I allowed myself to pretend that none of it was impossible, and that I could believe in a Christmas miracle. 



By the next afternoon, the snow had risen to my ankles. And Christmas had finally arrived.

Jace balanced five neatly wrapped presents in one arm while I carried a tin of cookies we’d picked up from the bakery that morning.

“You know,” I said as we rode the elevator to my mom’s apartment, “I still don’t know how the giant tree managed to fit into the house. My mom sent me a picture, and it took up the entire living room space.” 

I gave him a stern look. “I told her it was your idea.”

He nodded, like he regretted nothing. “It was my idea.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know.”

“And I regret nothing.” There it was.  

I laughed, shaking my head. “You know she’s going to have to put it away when the new year comes around?” 

He shrugged. “That’s why it’s a Christmas tree. And if she needs help getting it out, I’ll be more than happy to offer my muscled arms.”

I would’ve smacked him in the chest, but I was holding the cookies, and my mom had sent me a ton of messages about how she couldn’t wait to try them—he baked them—so I settled for nudging him with my shoulder instead. 

“Mom?” I called as I managed to open the door.

“In the kitchen!” she answered over the clatter of dishes. “Come in, you two! Merry Christmas!”

The apartment wrapped around us like a warm blanket the second we stepped inside. The enormous Christmas tree Jace had insisted we buy stood proudly in the corner of the living room, its branches glittering beneath strings of warm white lights.  

There were glass ornaments all around it, proudly showing off the sunlight in every direction. The silver star on top leaned ever so slightly to one side, making me laugh under my breath. 

But it was the smell in the air.  

Freshly baked cookies, cinnamon, vanilla, and something savory simmering on the stove. 

My stomach rumbled instantly. “Miss Thompson, is that gingerbread? It smells amazing. I’m so glad I didn’t eat this morning!” Jace called as he kicked off his shoes.

My mom laughed, the sound tinkling through the air. “That’s because I made three batches. You’d better help us finish them.”

“I volunteer as tribute.” His hand shot up so quickly he forgot about the boxes he was holding. 

“You said you weren’t hungry,” I hissed under my breath. 

He winked at me. “I was saving my appetite.” I rolled my eyes, walking to the kitchen with him on my tail. 

My mom stood at the counter in a red apron, flour dusting one cheek as she carefully frosted another tray of sugar cookies. A pot bubbled gently on the stove beside her, filling the apartment with the rich scent of herbs and roasted vegetables.

“There they are,” she said, setting the icing aside to pull us into a hug. “My favorite people. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Jace echoed.