C.P.O.V
He left, he left me just as broken and hurt as I knew he would.
Izzy and her damn instincts.
I just want to fall and let my shattered heart fall out of my body onto the very green grass. It was the same complete and utter pain as the day I had left. The same sadness that haunts me still, that truely overwhelms me. But I remember Wren is here, and I have to be strong for her. So instead, I walk back over to her and sit down next to her on the blanket.
I know it's wrong, but I can't help but feel slightly resentful towards Wren. She's the reason the love of my life is gone. But then I remember that one moment of joy I had on the day that she was born. Her perfect little face that screwed up when she cried. The way that her eyes where the same color as his. She is the other love of my life, and when I remember that, I go back to wanting to cry my heart out. I hate myself for feeling these conflicting emotions for Wren, it's not her fault I left, it's not her fault Jace never knew her. It's all my fault.
It's all my fault.
I tell Wren that it's time to go, and I start to gather up the various things scattered around our blanket. I put all of our things in my paisley tote bag, and turn to Wren. I roll up the blanket and stick it into the bag.
It's all my fault.
It just rolls and bounces around in my head from packing to walking home and even getting everything into order back at the apartment.
It's all my fault.
I just am a zombie, stalking around the apartment. I walk into Wren's bedroom and really look around the room. The soft yellow walls are scattered with pictures, and her bed covering the wall on my right. Her white dresser drawers are open with shirts skewed and unfolded from earlier when I was trying to decide what she should wear. I clean the drawers up and walk over to her bed. Wren sits perched on the edge of her pink polka-dot bedspread, watching me, and I plop down next to her.
"Mommy, did I do something wrong?" Wren asks, watching me.
"No! Sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong." I answer, sensing another question is really plaguing her.
She looks away for a while, clearly trying to find the right words. She looks back up at me eyes more serious than I have ever seen them. God, how is she so young and old at the same time?
"Then why does Daddy hate me?" Her eyes start to water and she leans toward me and her head falls into my lap. Tears start to run down the side of her face on to my legs.
"Wren, oh Wren." I say rubbing my thumb across her cheek. "Your father could never, ever hate you." Now my eyes are watering and Wren blurs. I screw my eyes shut and I feel the tears rolling down the front of my face. "He hates me, that's the only reason that he won't visit; because of me. He loves you, I know it." 'More than me'. My sub-conscious adds in.
We sit there like that for a while. Me stroking her hair, and her letting her silent tears roll down her face like rain drops, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
She gets like this, so worked up and emotional, that she just needs to cry herself out.
I watch her, and stop crying. Staying strong for her is what I really need to be doing. Sometimes, being there for her seems to be the only thing I'm good at. It's not like I was able to practice shadowhunting under my mother's reign of tyranny.
So I sit there with Wren in my lap, letting her tears flow freely. After a while she sits up and wipes her eyes. Wren looks up with Jace's eyes, red from crying, and she watches me.
"Do you really think he loves me?" asks Wren.
"Yes, I know he loves you. He will always love you."
"Okay Mommy. Can you read me a story?"
"Sure, why don't you go and grab one from your shelf?"
Wren jumps up and runs over to her book case on the other side of the room. She then scans the shelf, looking for one story in particular. She finds it and comes back over.
I scoot back so I am against her pillow and headboard, and I pat in between my legs. She scrambles up and sits between my legs, and hands me the book she had picked.
It's The Princess and the Frog.
Great.
A fairy tale for the girl who fucked up her own.
GREAT.
I wrap my arms around Wren and put the book out in front of the both of us and start to read.
Wren's P.O.V
I listen to one of my favorite stories. I always like to imagine the princess getting funny looks after kissing the ugly frog, and telling people how she found her prince. I mean that's so gross! Especially because I read another book about frogs, and it said they have slimy stuff covering their entire bodies! I bet she got that stuff all over her lips!
Gross.
But then again true love can't be explained.
I listen to my mommy tell me the story of the princess finding the frog in the pond after he had retrieved her golden ball, and how he begged and begged her to kiss him to break the curse. She did, and then he turned into a handsome prince! They lived happily ever after, and they were happy.
I bet my Mommy and Daddy are as in love as the Princess and her Prince.
But then I start to wonder.
"Mommy, where's your frog?"