IF YOU NEED A RECAP BECAUSE I'M STUPID AND HAVEN'T UPLOADED IN MONTHS, HERE'S A QUICK ONE

This is that weird story where clary gets married to Jace, a king of Idris and they make out a lot. Yeah. That shitty one. Lmao welcome back.

Clary goes to the Morgenstern castle for Jonathons funeral

Finds Celine in the dungeons

Confronts her father

Huge ass battle in ballroom

Jace kills her father

Get Celine home, she tells a wack ass story, basically Jonathan is her son because her and Valentine had an affair before his marriage, when Jocelyn died he summoned a greater demon who possessed him, turned him like evil and shit, he kidnapped Celine and killed Stephan. Aka Valentine=bad. He no good.

Clary leaves Jace because she's gotta take care of her kingdom and tells him she has no reason to stay. Aka Clary is a bitch lmao

OKAY CARRY ON

The very final chapter of Kingdom of Lies.

I apologize if the writing is different and super rusty. First time I've written in months.

I wasn't even planning on writing this tonight, but I had a little inspiration from someone. So here I am.

If you're still here, two years later or even two months later, if you've put up with all my random breaks and my shitty uploading and my shitty plot holes and my mental episodes and my crappy chapters or if this is the first time you're reading this story and made it to the end, thank you. Thank you for giving me, a new writer with an old laptop and a shitty mental health, a chance.

So sorry it took me so long, i hate myself lmao. But i've never been busier honestly.

BUT I LOVE YOU ALL. SO MUCH. AUTHORS NOTE BELOW.

For the last time, ya'll ready?!
LEGGO.

I refused to think the word heartache, because even though it's the only word that could possibly describe how it felt to watch Clary walk away from me, I wouldn't admit it to myself.

It had been barely a few weeks since she had left, yet I refused to count the days. I didn't want to know, because I didn't want to think it was real.

Everything seemed surreal as of late. Seeing my mother still pained me as much as it enthralled me. Back from the dead, it was hard to see her as much more than a transparent vision, the sunlight from the windows going right through her paper skin. But slowly, day by day, she'd become more solid.

I sat by her bed every day for hours on end, sometimes telling her about everything she had missed, about the elderly seamstress Agatha she had been particularly fond of, and the state of Idris. And sometimes we were silent, just marveling in a moment I thought I could only experience beyond the grave.

And sometimes she asked about Clary.

I told her what Clary had told me. Her father was dead. Her business here was done.

I told her what I told myself every night when my skin noticed the absence of her warmth against me. Her kingdom needed her.

I told her what I told myself when I punched and kicked and whirled against nothing but air in the training room, avoiding remembering how well she fought despite her size and the fire in her chest that drew me to her. She was only here because she had to be.

I told her what I told myself every damn time I remembered her and how her body felt against mine, the curl of her lips and the anger that guarded her softness so well, her hands on my chest or her drunk giggles, and how her smile undid me in a way I never spoke of.

That she had no reason to stay.

I tried furiously to combat the emotions that rose at the mention of her name. To push her to the side, because I couldn't afford to question her, to think of the unanswered questions and unspoken words. I was a king, Jace Herondale of the Herondale Kingdom, re united with his mother, back from the grave. Every soul in the kingdom rejoiced at her return, festivals and parties overcoming everyone for weeks. But now there was things that must be done. The Morgenstern Kingdom was in shambles after Valentine's death. However as the ash settled, sunlight broke through. The terrible king was gone, the fog lifted. Life could be more than just banal routine for the people. It could be joyous, prosperous. And no part of me doubted that Clary would carry the weight of restoring the Morgenstern kingdom to one of the mightiest of Idris, even if it broke her. I know it won't. She's much too strong for that.

Nevertheless, despite the hope for one day, there was tasks to be done today. I had to speak to the public soon, and I needed to organize my thoughts.

But first, my mother.

Just like every morning, I knock quietly on the tall doors to the infirmary. I had wanted for her to move into her own room for her comfort, but years undergound had robbed her of her health, and she needed constant care. But she was getting there.

Her soft voice lets me inside, and like usual I smile at the sight of her. She's so frail, so different than I remember her. But beautiful. Alive.

"Did you sleep well?" She asks softly, like she does every morning. I lie, like I do every morning.

"Yes mother, how about you?" I wince at the cool temperature of the room, turning to see if there was anyone nearby. "I told the damn nurses hundreds of times to watch the temperature, are they trying to freeze yo-"

"Jace," Her voice is filled with laughter, and I turn back to her with an ache in my heart. I missed that sound. "The room is fine, stop being such a fuss." She pats the seat next to her bed, and I sit down carefully. Her thin fingers cover mine, eyes roaming over my face with a fondness I didn't realize that I had missed. "You're so much like your father."

The age old ache always accompanied by his thought doesn't bother me as much as it usually does. I had gotten one parent back from the grave, and there was no part of my heart that held out hope for my father. I had gotten my miracle.

But I still close my eyes for a minute, still say a silent prayer for him. "How so?"

She waves a hand through the air, clicking her tongue against her teeth. "Oh he was always so fussy about me whenever I was ill, I could have a cold and he'd attempt to call in the Silent Brothers." She pauses for a minute, lips still parted before she speaks in softer tone. "It was endearing."

"I miss him."

There was a time where I would refuse to say those words aloud, refuse to acknowledge the barely healed wound their deaths had let me. But I can't find the will or pride that usually keeps those words at bay. Another thing Clary took with her.

Celine's gaze on me is warmer than the morning light in the room. "I miss him too." Her voice grows quiet. "And I missed you too."

Avoiding her gaze, I duck my head. "Mother, we don't have to talk about-"

"Jace, darling we do." Her voice is shaky, but her resolve isn't. It hurts to look at her. "You have to know, that I hate myself for making you lose your parents so early. No one deserves that."

I glance back up at her, a million protests rising to my lips. "Mother, it wasn't your fault, it was Valentine who-"

"Jace." Her voice is quiet, but still silences me. "I will forever blame myself for what he turned into." She gazes down at her lap, lip trembling. "He- he wasn't human in the end of it all. He was sick. I don't hate him."

"How could you not?" I whisper. I remember her story, remember of the greater demon who poisoned him and that logically, I should agree with her. But I never will. I'll never forgive him for what he did to my parents, to me.

To Clary.

Her eyes are so similar to mine. "Because I loved him. And I hate what he had become. And I hate myself for not doing anything to prevent it."

"What could you have done?" My voice sounds hollow to my own ears. Because a part of me wondered, wondered what it's like to lose the one thing more important to you than anything else. And what it would drive you to do.

Celine shrugs delicately. "I could have come to him, consoled him, been there for him after Jocelyn's death. But I was grieving too, and I chose to be selfish and place that above his. Or I should have given myself to him, and maybe your father would still be alive-"

"Mother, please." My voice is pained, and I don't want to think about what could have happened. "You had no idea he would do this, and he never would have let father live. Because we both know if he was alive, he would burn down all of Idris to get you back." My fingers grip hers tighter. "None of this was your fault."

She nods, a half smile on her lips, but I know she'll never forgive herself. And that there's nothing I can do.

Her next words are soft. "And I know that you know that Valentine isn't inherently evil. Because no terrible person could have a child like Clary."

I can't help the scoff. "I don't know, she fights dirty."

Celine shakes her head lightly, the straw colored hair drifting across her thin shoulders. "Sweetheart, that's not the point."

"I know." I whisper, voice distant. Like the mother she is, Celine picks up on it instantly, but waits a minute before speaking.

"She reminds me of Jocelyn, you know."

"How so?" I ask, voice disinterested.

"Sweet. Strong. A warrior. Fights for what they want." Her smile turns bittersweet. "The kind of women that men can't help but fall for."

"Ah. There is a service boy in the castle that seems particularly fond of her, now that you mention it-"
"Oh, for Angels sake." Celine sighs, fixing her glare on me. "Jace, darling, since when did you become so dense?"

I blink at her insult. "What do you mean?"

"I've been asking you about her for weeks now, and you have yet to tell me anything!" She asks in exasperation, eyes wide.

"Tell you anything about what?!" I really hope this isn't going where I think this is going, but I clench my jaw in expectation.

"Tell me Jace," Her hands drop in her lap. "Do you care for her?"

I look away, unable to answer.

"Ah."

Her response is quiet, simple.

"I don't know." I confess. "I care for her, yes. But I don't know what to do about it. She doesn't need me."

"Of course she doesn't need you." She doesn't hesitate to respond. "She's a Morgenstern. She doesn't need anyone but herself." Her gaze is loaded, purposeful. "But what you need and what you want are two different things."

Is this what you want?

She never answered.

"It doesn't matter mother. She has more important things to worry about than me. She was here because she had to be, and now she doesn't have to be. Simple." My tone is harsh to my own ears.

"Matters of the heart are never simple."

I straighten, fists clenched. Not with anger, just frustration. Whether I was frustrated

with her, with myself, or with Clary, I didn't know. "What are trying to say, mother?"

Despite how long she spent buried alive, she looks infinitely older in this moment.

"I'm trying to say that I was forced to let go of the people I loved, and if I had known I would regret it this much? I would have held on until my fingers bled." She doesn't let me look away, thin lips lined with age upturned in a humorless smile. "Your father, you, Jocelyn, Jonathan, even Valentine, I watched as everything I loved was taken away. I didn't have a choice. But you do. Despite your arrogance and your conviction that you don't need anyone, you do. And you had someone. Are you really going to let her walk out of your life?"

I dip my head lightly, feeling the thin curls tucked behind my ear come loose and tickle my jaw. I stare down at my hands, watch them slowly relax. I close my eyes at her next words.

"Don't let your pride be your downfall. Don't be Valentine."

~o.O.o~

I really underestimated just how much it costs to repair a ballroom.

Grumbling to myself, I rub my head vigorously in attempt to get rid of the ache the last three hours had brought upon me, dismissing the mess I had just made of my chignon. The maids had attempted to pin up my normally loose red curls, probably to hide the fact that a night of tossing and turning had wreaked havoc on my hair that I hadn't bothered to tie up. Those poor girls are really overworked.

It was hard to sleep as of late, that is when I even got the chance to crawl into bed. Being thrust onto the throne right after leading a group of people into the funeral of your brother and accusing your father of being a psychotic murderer then proceeding to murder him wasn't exactly the ideal position to be in, but here I am.

The last few weeks had consisted of rehiring half of the counsel, making public announcements, attempting to calm an entire kingdom, scheduling meetings with other rulers of Idris, and a copious amount of numbers and rulers and responsibilities that made my head ache. So many nights had been spent poring over documents and treaties and legalities, only to wake up the next morning and meet another official, discuss another conference, and more and more of mind numbing responsibilities I couldn't shy away from. I really don't know how Jace handled it all.

Jace.

Ah, the other reason I couldn't sleep anymore. The few times I managed to close my eyes, he was always there. I thought I left him behind like I left those dresses behind, but oh god he was always here. Always in the back of my mind, always showing up in the forms of little reminders. A glint of gold that reminds me how his would look in the sunlight, a laugh that sounded similar but never as beautiful as his, even the bamboo sticks lining the walls of the training room. He never left me.

Part of me wanted to forget him. To scream at myself that I was there for a reason and that reason didn't exist anymore. That nothing else existed between us either than an arranged marriage set up by a dead father. That I had a mission to my people, and thinking about the past wasn't going to help at all.

And a part of me bigger than I wanted to acknowledge told me that he looked at me with a lot more than lazy lust driven by the simple fact that I was there. He didn't just want me. He cared for me.

But it didn't matter. I turned away from him. It was too late for me to fix it. If there had even been anything to fix.

I groan to myself, leaning against the polished stone marble running it's length along the balcony. It looked down into the main entrance, filled with sound. Maids ran along at hurried paces, some with carts in tow, others with silver serving platters, others wobbling under arms full of cloth. I can't help but smile at their straight backs, placant faces, and rosy cheeks. They looked like they had life in them, a trait I had stopped associating with our staff long ago. Valentine had worked them to the bone, and part of me couldn't help but be satisfied at the changes I'd made. The castle had some color in it, the people some life. Though few were murdered in the battle of the ballroom, I had funerals conducted for all of them. And I made sure to decorate Alice's grave with flowers every week.

I close my eyes at the thought of Jonathans funeral. The body count had been few, the injuries plentiful but mendable, but it still hurt to go back into the ballroom. I couldn't see it, i couldn't see the spot where he fell. I couldn't remember that moment.

I wonder if he's normal now. I wonder if finally the greater demon's influence left him in death. Maybe he's in hell with a broken heart, realizing what he's done. Maybe there's nothing after death and he's long gone, buried in dirt. Maybe he's with mom.

Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply through the ache in my heart. I miss her more recently. It hurt to be without her. And though she claimed I would never be alone, I never felt as alone as I do now.

The redheaded princess, the last standing Morgenstern, the little girl who most people didn't know existed, in charge of a kingdom. And all I wanted was my mother alive so I could cry in her arms and have her fix it. But I couldn't have that. I got myself into this mess. And I was going to die before I failed.

I keep my eyes closed, the colors shifting with the sunlight mildly interesting. I can feel the chignon starting to sag, hairs brushing my neck, but I don't care or know how to fix it. No lords or officials with dark eyes and resentful glares around to judge me, waiting for a crack in my armor to appear so they can shoot me down like my father was. But they weren't around right now, so I bowed my head, dully wishing I wasn't laced into a corset and instead in one of those soft satin slips I hadn't had the energy to put myself in before bed. I hardly had the energy to do much besides work. Not even cry. It appears that I've finally run out of tears.

"You lied."

I grip the railing tighter, irritated at the words that have been bothering me for weeks, constantly reminding me of the harsh works I spoke to Jace before I left. I don't have a reason to stay. They have been haunting me for weeks, taunting me in my weakest moments. But it was always my own voice, whispering to me to abandon everything. It never sounded like Jace.

Jace.

Feeling like ice water has been poured down my back, I release my white-knuckled grip on the railing and turn around.

The sunlight hits him perfectly, as it always does. He never looks anything less than perfect. Even with the circles underneath his eyes, the only part of him that shows the toll these past few weeks have put on him, he looks perfect. I thought I could never forget how he looks, but my dreams could never do him justice. I can't speak, can't think about speaking. All I can do is stare at him like an idiot, taking in everything from the shape of his jaw to way he stands, every little detail I thought I memorized but am stunned by. Oh angel, he's here.

"Jace." I whisper weakly, not sure what else to say. He takes a deep breath, lips slightly parted. His eyes aren't cold, detached anymore. They're angry, warm.

"You lied to me."

"What do you mean?" I blink hard against the disbelief clouding my mind, confusion settling in. What the hell is he doing?

"You lied when you said you didn't have a reason to stay." His words are flat, simple, but they burn. He takes a step forward, hands still by his sides. "You lied and you're well aware of it."

"Jace, why are you here?" My voice shakes, but my hands are steady.

"To tell you to cut the crap, Clary!" His voice rises, but I don't flinch away from it. I just meet his anger, my own indignation rising as well. "Stop acting like you're the only victim and punishing yourself and me because of it."

All the wonderment from seeing him again vanishes, replaced by rage. "Punishing you? How dare you? I'm attempting to run a kingdom by myself and you're seriously upset that I hurt your feelings?!"

"I'm not upset about that, I'm upset that you're too busy being a goddamn martyr to realize what you're doing-"

"A martyr?" My voice has risen to a shriek now, and I don't give a damn. Hot rage floods out of me like blood, my fists clenched so tight the pressure of my nails is bruising. I'm angry, so angry that my vision blurs. And not all of it is at Jace. Some of it is at Valentine, some of it at myself, and some it at the world. At the messed up fucking world that took everyone I ever loved, and then gave him the nerve to stand in front of me and tell me I'm overreacting. "What part am I being overdramatic about, Jace? My brothers murder? Or my father's? Or the fact that I'm not even close to 20 and I'm now queen of an entire kingdom? Tell me Jace, since you know how to deal with everything, what in the hell should I do?!"

"Admit you're in love with me."

It's so quiet. His words are so soft, simple. It cuts me off suddenly, and I choke on the torrent of insults I had been waiting to sling. I stare at him dumbly, as if I didn't understand what he had just said. And in a way, I didn't. "Wh-what did you just say?"

"Admit you care about me." He continues without missing a beat, stepping towards me the way one might approach a frightened animal. His steps are careful, but sure, eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. "Admit it Clary. Admit that you lied to me."

"Why does that matter? It makes no difference." My anger is replaced by uncertainty and pain, pain at the idea of a world where Jace didn't matter. The world I was trying to build for myself.

"It makes all the difference Clary." The sound of my name on his lips still forms knots in my stomach and a newly developed fist around my heart. He's closer now, close enough for me to make out his clenched jaw. I have no idea what he's suppressing. "Because you're so busy worried about how you're going to be a queen, you're forgetting that you have as much of a duty to yourself than you have to your kingdom. You don't have to burn to keep this kingdom going."

I turn my head, staring intently to the side to avoid the burning in his gaze. I can't afford to listen to him, to let myself be weak. "Jace, I don't have room in my life for myself anymore. I'm a queen, I'm the only ruler this kingdom is going to get. I can't just abandon everything and run after what I think I need."

"You don't need anyone. You're a Morgenstern. But there's a difference between a need and a want." I didn't realize how close he had gotten until I turn my head finally, and I find myself craning my neck to look up at him. He's not touching me, but I can feel him, as if the air around him is palpable. His gaze settles on mine, refusing to let me look away. "And you want me."

I don't respond for a moment, attempting to stop the tug at my heart from those words. He just continues, resolve never faltering. "Admit it Clary, admit that you lied. Admit that you want me." His words are rough, but not commanding. He says it like he's saying a fact, in a way that tells me that he isn't surprised when I whisper yes.

But he still lets a small breath of air escape, a little bit of tension flow out of his shoulders. But nothing is closed to being resolved, not yet. I swallow hard. "Jace, this can't happen, I have a responsibility to my people."

"You're such a Morgenstern." It's almost a private whisper, as is the weak laugh to himself. "You know, you have this habit of throwing yourself into one goal, and refusing to give up until you accomplish it. And while it's endearing at times, it also can lead to you being almost killed." His words are said with thin humor, and I can't help the abrasive laugh at the almost being killed part, shoving away the flashback with my father's sword at my throat. Jace steps closer now, seriousness clouding his tawny eyes. "But what are you going to do Clary? Because while I admire your ability to do so, you can't just sacrifice the rest of your life for this crown."

"I'd die for this kingdom." My response is instant, and I have no doubt in it. I have no doubt that I would gladly give everything for this kingdom.

"I know you would." His words are spoken with a calm acceptance. "But I'm trying to tell you that you don't have to. I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to push me out because you don't have a good enough reason to take away time from the crown. Your happiness is a good enough reason." He's close enough that our clothes touch, and his fingers come up hesitantly to grip my chin lightly. I look up with him, at that strange vulnerability hidden in his eyes. He hurt to look at, and I want to close my eyes against him but I never want stop looking at him. I miss him.

"Jace, I've lost everything. This crown is all I had left." My voice aches, my heart aches. Tears are in my eyes again, but I refuse to let them fall. I expect to feel that steel resolve slowly melting, but it's not. There's just something there along with it. Something warm, something blossoming like a rose in my chest. Something like hope.

"You're wrong. You have me." His voice is filled with the same vulnerability as his eyes, and I know he's nervous. I know he's as terrified as me. "Don't you ever convince yourself that you only have one purpose in life. Don't be Valentine."

With those words I feel the last of my anger ebb away, something like a string snapping harshly inside of me. I feel myself sag against the railing I had backed into, hands clutching at his shirt. Jace presses into me, one hand moving to cup my face. He's breathing hard now, shaky breaths washing over me. "I've lost everything, Jace."

"Don't lose me too." His eyes are closed, lips moving in a silent prayer. "Please. Don't lose me too."

My forehead falls against his, and I let out a long breath of air as the fist around my heart slowly releases. "I don't want to. I don't ever want to lose you."

His eyes fly open, as if he's genuinely shocked. A breath of relief leaves his parted lips, and he closes his eyes for another long moment before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"You won't. I promise."

I melt against his touch, the familiar embrace bringing those tears back with full force. I wipe them away furiously, refusing to sob. I'm so tired of crying. "What does this mean? For us?" My voice is small, hesitant. I have no idea what I am to him. What he is to me. We were engaged for months, but what about now? Who was Jace to me? Who did I want him to be?"

"I don't know." His answer is honest, simple. His hands are idly tracing my face, everything from the curve of my jaw to the arch of my brow, as if he's trying to memorize my features with his fingertips. I let him, too busy reveling in the feel of his touch to care. Oh Angel, I missed him. "But we're gonna figure it out."

Our gazes lock, and his hands still. "Jace, I'm so scared." I don't elaborate, because I can't get any more specific. I'm terrified of everything. I'm terrified of facing the public as the queen who killed her father. I'm terrified of sitting in counsel rooms and conferences with people forty years older than me and convincing them I ruled one of the twelve kingdoms of Idris. I'm terrified of ruining this kingdom worse than my father did. And I'm terrified of the man in front of me, and the plethora of things I didn't know about him, and how much I wanted him. I'm terrified.

"I know you are. But I believe in you. You're gonna do this. We're gonna do this." He presses another kiss to my forehead, and my hands fist in his shirt. I want him to stay there forever. "You're not alone."

I stare up at him, momentarily fascinated by him. I think back to the first time I saw him, waiting in a hallway to put on a grandiose show for the people below the balcony, the dashing kind and his darling wife. I remember the cynical comments, his angry shouts and hot lips in response to my flirting at the party, the training room sessions, waking up in the blue light with him by my side, all of it. I remember getting drunk and him carrying me, my anger at him and his rage at me. I remember all of the fighting and training and hot lips and those little glimpses into the heart of the boy who had been thrust onto the throne and just missed his parents. I remember him kneeling, bowing to me.

Jace Herondale, the most complex boy I have ever met.

The warrior shadow hunter king who terrified and intrigued me, angered me and tempted me

. And for a minute, I'm consumed by these thoughts. I forget all of the problems awaiting me, the angry generals and captains and nobles in the conference rooms, the public's wrath towards the unwanted Morgenstern child, the pain that found me in the night in the form of my family's memory.

I forget it all, because Jace always makes me forget, always makes my heart ache and sing at the same time. Because that's who he is. He's an enigma within himself, and for a minute, nothing exists besides me and him, his body leaning against mine in a way that's so familiar, his hair too long and ticking my temple, and those amber colored eyes looking at me with hope.

And for once, I didn't feel alone.

The End

Holy shit

5k in one night? Fuck yeah.

I never thought this day would come. It's over. It's done. Kingdom of Lies has officially been completed. Holy shit.

I honestly don't know how to react. I really never thought I'd get here.

I'd like say thank you really quick to anyone still here from the beginning, because you have put up with so fuckin much. All my long absences, shitty chapters I had to re upload, my mental breakdowns, my plot holes, my cliffhangers, all of it. You're still here and It makes me want to cry that you're still here. Thank you.

It's been so long since I posted, I wouldn't be surprised if literally no one bothered to read this chapter. I lowkey deserve it lmao. But if you're right now, you sat through thousands upon thousands of my shitty words, 21 messy chapters, and you're amazing. Thank you.

Thank you to anyone who reviewed, you guys don't understand how happy reviews make me. My day always got better after all your cute reviews.

Fanfiction has been with me for about two and a half years. It all started with my shitty fanfiction High School Horrors that I deleted, renamed Expect the Unexpected, then slowly my two main stories, Love isn't Optional and this one, came to be.

Writing these two stories have brought me such joy, and I can honestly say writing is what makes me happy. And yes, when I look back at the beginning of these stories and the actual shit my writing way, i fucking cringe. But eh, that's life. I think I got better.

Fanfiction has been here for me when I moved across the country twice, went through depression, rough patches, another divorce, high school, anything. I made friends here. For two years, my life has been staying up super late and binge writing until my fingers ache, giving a middle finger to proof reading, and hitting upload before I pass out and then waking up to hundreds of reviews. And I love it so much. But I think it's over now.

My life is different now. I'm happy with myself. I'm considering writing as a career. I'm in love with someone that makes my heart feel happy. My eyebrows are great. I'm happy. So fucking happy guys.

So thank you, thank you for reading my dumb stories, thank you for giving a little girl with an old laptop and a wild imagination a place to become a somewhat average writer. And I hope one day, if I ever do make it as a writer, people will come back and find this mess I call my fanfiction page.

My final life advice: love yourself my dudes. Be kind to yourself. Eat some fruit once and awhile. Compliment yourself. Wear baby blue underwear with pretty lace. Masturbate. Exfoliate. Watch stand up comedy. Whatever makes you happy. Just remember to not be so hard on yourself all the time. And when all else fails, Carne Asada Fries are the key to life (and my heart. Lord if you're reading this PM me for addy and bless me w some) . You're beautiful.

If you also read my story Love Isn't Optional, expect an epilogue within a week or so if I can find time. I'll really try guys. But if you don't read that, then I guess for the last time, goodbye. Thank you for being here for me everyone. Thank you for giving me a voice. And have a beautiful life.

Love, Em.