Chapter 159: 159 ~ Mira
Receiving Jace’s message came with a bit of peace and turmoil.
I was glad whatever he had going on was successful, but I was also worried that since he wasn’t back yet, he still wasn’t out of the woods. Anything could happen at any time.
The villa felt too big without him. Too silent. Every tick of the clock echoed in the stillness, making my nerves crawl and my heart beat faster.
I paced the length of our room for what felt like hours. I was sure I could have burned holes through the carpet if I did it for much longer. Then I sat. Then I got back up again. Nothing seemed to settle the storm inside me. Every sound, like a creak in the hallway, a distant thud, the wind brushing the curtains... they all made me turn towards the door, hoping it would be him.
I picked up my phone more times than I could count, unlocking and locking the screen like that would somehow make him appear.
I knew I was being paranoid, but this was how it always started. It always began with silence, waiting and hoping. Then before you know, they’re gone with the snap of a finger.
I shook my head, vehemently refusing the thought.
"Relax, Mira," I muttered to myself. "He said he’d be fine."
I tried to distract myself. I made tea. I flipped through the channels. I even attempted to read one of the romance novels Donna Carmela had brought from her library even though the irony wasn’t lost on me. How was I supposed to focus on fictional love when mine was out there playing with death?
When the tea turned cold and the moon climbed higher, I gave up pretending. I sat on the couch with my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the phone.
Just call, Jace. Please.
As if he’d heard me, the screen lit up.
My breath caught as I answered. "Jace?"
"Hey, mia cara." His voice was low, familiar, steady and it melted something inside me instantly. God I missed him so much.
My eyes stung immediately as I tried to steady my voice. "You took your time."
He chuckled softly. "You know I like to make an entrance."
"You’re not funny." I said in a clipped tones
"I’m alive. That should count for something."
I exhaled shakily. "Don’t say it like that."
"Sorry," he said, his tone softening. "I didn’t mean to worry you. Everything went according to plan. I’ll be home soon."
"Soon when? Hours? Days?"
"Soon," he repeated, deliberately vague. I could almost see the smug tilt of his lips on the other end of the line.
"You always say that." I rolled my eyes, sniffling because I could no longer hold back my tears.
"And yet I always come back."
I didn’t respond. The silence stretched between us, heavy and tender. I could hear faint wind through the receiver, maybe the rustle of his coat. He must have stepped outside to make the call.
"Mira," he said finally. "You trust me, don’t you?"
"I do."
"Then sleep. I’ll be there before you know it."
"I can’t sleep without you here." I whimpered.
He was quiet for a moment, then said in that husky tone that always made my chest tighten, "Then close your eyes and pretend I’m there. Imagine my hand right on your waist. My breath on your neck. That should do the trick."
A small laugh escaped me, shaky but real. "You’re impossible."
"I try."
I was so sure he was smirking.
We stayed on the line for a few more seconds. I didn’t want to hang up first, afraid that once the call ended, the quiet would swallow me whole again.
"Jace?"
"Hmm?"
"Come home in one piece, okay?"
There was a smile in his voice when he answered, "I always do."
Then the line went dead.
I sat there for a long time, clutching the phone against my chest, replaying his voice in my head like a lullaby.
For the first time that night, I felt something close to calm. Not peace exactly, but the next best thing.
When I finally lay down, the scent of him still lingered on the sheets. It was very faint but familiar. I curled into it and let myself drift, whispering a small prayer into the darkness.
"Come home to me, Jace. Please."
~
By midday, the villa was too quiet again. The peace and calm I had experienced from the previous night had disappeared again.
I had gone through two cups of coffee, rearranged the throw pillows three times, and checked my phone at least twenty. Every passing minute without a message made the weight in my chest grow heavier.
Then I heard it.
The sound of the gates opening.
It was faint at first. It was metal grinding against metal, followed by the hum of engines rolling into the driveway. But to me, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
My heart skipped.
I dropped the magazine I hadn’t really been reading and ran to the window. A fleet of black SUVs was rolling in, the sunlight glinting off their hoods. My hands started to tremble before I even saw him.
And then I did.
Jace stepped out of the car, tall and composed as always, his jacket draped over one arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled like he hadn’t slept in days. But he was here. He was home.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until I was already halfway down the stairs.
I burst through the front doors just as he crossed the courtyard. "Jace!"
He barely had a second to react before I collided into him. His arms went around me instantly, catching me the way he always did.
For a long moment, I couldn’t speak. My face was buried in his chest, the familiar scent of his cologne flooding my senses. I could feel his heartbeat, steady against my ears.
"You’re home," I whispered against his shirt. "You’re really home."
He tilted my chin up with one hand, his thumb brushing away a tear. "Did you doubt it?"
"I thought—" My voice broke before I could finish.
"Don’t." He pressed a finger to my lips, his eyes softening. "No more what-ifs, okay?"
I nodded, though the lump in my throat refused to go away.
Then he kissed me.
It wasn’t the rushed, desperate kind of kiss we had shared before he left. This one was slow and deep, full of relief and need and everything we hadn’t said in days. His lips were warm and steady, grounding me in the moment.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. "You missed me that much, huh?"
I let out a breathless laugh. "You’re insufferable."
He grinned, that boyish one I hardly saw anymore. "I’ll take that as a yes."
Footsteps shuffled behind us, and we both turned to see Donna Carmela being wheeled toward the entrance, a knowing smile already tugging at her lips.
"Well, isn’t this heartwarming," she said dryly. "My son returns from war, and his wife greets him like we’re in a movie."
"Good to see you too, Mom," Jace said, still holding me close.
"Mm-hmm," she said, eyes twinkling. "I’d say get a room, but knowing you two, you probably already have."
"Donna!" I exclaimed, my face flaming red.
She chuckled softly, clearly pleased with herself. "Relax, Mirabel. A little teasing never hurt anyone."
Behind Jace, Tomas appeared carrying a few folders and looking entirely unimpressed. He gave us a mock glare and made a gagging sound. "For the love of God, can you two not do this in the doorway? You’re scaring the staff."
Jace smirked. "You could look away."
"I could," Tomas said, deadpan. "But unfortunately, I’m stuck here watching this domestic soap opera unfold."
Donna Carmela laughed, and even I couldn’t help smiling as Jace shot Tomas a glare that didn’t hold an ounce of real menace.
"Feels good to be back boss," Tomas added finally, tone softening just a bit. "Glad we all made it in one piece."
"Me too," Jace said quietly, his hand still resting protectively on the small of my back.
The heaviness I’d been carrying all week began to lift, replaced by that warm, safe feeling that only came when he was near.
"Come on," I said, tugging at his hand. "You need food, a shower, and at least ten hours of sleep."
He raised a brow. "Ten hours?"
"You’ve been gone for days. I think that’s the least you deserve."
"Or," he murmured, leaning close enough for only me to hear, "you could just stay with me and make sure I don’t oversleep."
"Jace," I hissed, glancing at his mother and Tomas.
He chuckled under his breath. "What? I missed you."
I rolled my eyes, even as my heart fluttered. "You’re impossible."
"And you love me for it," he said, brushing a kiss against my forehead before walking past me into the villa.
As I watched him go, relief and longing tangled in my chest until I couldn’t tell them apart.
Donna Carmela caught my gaze, her eyes soft now. "He looks tired, doesn’t he?"
"Exhausted," I admitted with a sigh.
She nodded thoughtfully. "Then make sure he rests. God knows he won’t listen to anyone else."
I smiled at that, feeling the tears come back but this time, they were tears of pure relief.
For the first time in a long while, the villa didn’t feel cold.
It felt like home again.