One ~ "I'm so, so sorry."

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The year was 1903. And this was James Herondale's last chance.

If he turned around now, leaving Cordelia here as she expectantly watched him and waited for his next words, she would never let him in her life again. Not really. The pain he'd caused her wouldn't be worth it, and the worst part? As much as it broke his heart to realise it — he would understand.

After getting all the way from London to Paris, James had finally laid eyes on Cordelia. She'd been staring into the rushing water of the fountain. It was an old fountain in the centre of this quaint Parisian park, just a few streets away from the hotel Cordelia had been staying in.

Her gaze had seemed distracted, not quite focussed as she fiddled with a white flower in her hand she must've just picked. James had fleetingly wondered where Matthew could be. Why weren't they together?

But James couldn't bring himself to care about Matthew right now. He loved Matthew, he did, but after the ordeal he'd gone through in the last few days, all he cared about at this moment was that he'd found Cordelia. And he was never going to let her go again.

James realised Cordelia had been silently looking at him for a while, waiting for him to say whatever it was he'd wanted to say. She looked so tired — tired of everything.

James took a deep breath.

"Cordelia..." He forced himself to look straight into her eyes — he figured he owed her that much. Her long lashes brushed softly over her deep brown, almost black, eyes. James swallowed.

"Cordelia... I have been in love with you every day since I was fourteen years old." Cordelia suddenly sucked in a startled breath, but James pushed on before he lost his nerve. "I was a complete idiot when I said I didn't feel about you the same way I felt about Grace. A complete idiot. And... and for that I am so, so sorry — I just- I didn't realise how wrong that would sound. Cordelia I swear, I never wanted to hurt you."

He released a shaky breath as he quickly ran a hand through his inky, now very tousled, hair. Not knowing what to do with hands, which he had just been waving about like a mad man, James settled for clasping them in front of him. "When I told you that night that I didn't feel about you as I felt about Grace, I meant that I hate Grace — Daisy, I- I hate her, with every part of me." A barked nervous laugh. But steeling his nerves, he looked straight into her eyes. "And whether you believe me or not, I must tell you right now that I am completely, madly in love with you."

*

This couldn't be real. None of it was real. Cordelia would wake up in the bed of her hotel room at any moment, with the Eiffel Tower standing tall outside her window and Matthew asleep in the room next door, and everything would be terribly normal. Terribly, heartbreakingly normal. Normal in the fact that James had never loved her. Normal in the fact that James never wanted their marriage, not even a little, and even after everything they had been through together, James had never loved her for a moment.

But somehow, right now, this felt real. Wasn't that a breeze blowing through her hair and lifting her scarf in the wind? Weren't darkening clouds beginning to gather in the sky over their heads, and weren't the trees' leaves rustling loudly over there past James' shoulder? Cordelia stared up at James with wide, confused eyes that flashed with so many emotions she couldn't figure out which ones she was feeling the most. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. Pain. Euphoria? She wanted to say something, anything, except she could not find any of the right words to say. Any at all.

Despite her silence, James didn't faltered for a moment. He took her gloved hands in his. "Please, Cordelia. I need to tell you everything."

Cordelia closed her eyes and swallowed, before looking at him again. "Tell me then", she breathed.

~~~

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