AN: So I made a major booboo last chapter. I forgot to include the entire reason I wrote the Odette letter scene. That scene was conceived as a way for Odette to return the engagement ring and I completely neglected to have her return the friggin' ring ️. So anyhow, I went back and rewrote it. You can go back and re-read if you want or you can just know it happened. Now onto the new chapter.

Logan walked into the apartment, shrugging off his suit jacket as he went. He tossed it on the couch and reached up to loosen his tie as he made his way to the liquor cabinet. Popping the top off the Macallan, he poured the amber liquid into a tumbler. He took a hearty swig, topped the glass off, then put the bottle away.

He collapsed onto the couch, legs spread wide, head lolled back, arms to the side like a limp starfish. Bringing the tumbler up to his head, he pressed the cool glass to his forehead as though the liquor could cure his headache by osmosis.

His meeting with his parents had started off as expected. The accusations, the contempt, the narcissistic way they made it all about them…none of that was a shock. But the ending was a twist he sure as hell hadn't expected.

Couple's counselling. It could actually be a sensible idea if it hadn't come from Mitchum. But it had, so every bone in Logan's body wanted to hate it. For starters, they weren't a couple and couple's counselling would imply that they were; or that they wanted to be. And he wasn't sure that he did. Certainly not now. But there was still a part of him that thought maybe….eventually. He tried to picture the future.

He and Rory are lying in bed. The rising sun shines through the south facing windows, illuminating the room in a warm glow. She snuggles into his side, laughing at some witty remark about something stupid Finn did. The door creaks open and he looks towards it to see a toddler-sized Lila creeping into the room, carrying a stuffed animal. He gives her a half-hearted admonishment about entering without knocking. His daughter looks sheepish and apologizes but climbs into the bed unbidden, worming her way between the two adults to snuggle.

A sudden warmth prickled the center of his chest. A tiny, little, glowing dot of hope. Could it be possible? Maybe. But there were so many other ways it could go. And most of them ended in pain; for him, for Rory, and most importantly for Lila. Plus, then they would have given Mitchum the satisfaction of getting his way.

He heard a ping and without looking he reached out with his free hand to retrieve the device lying next to him on the couch. Opening his eyes, he looked at the screen.

It was a picture of Lila. She was strapped into a baby swing. She had on a mint green onesie that said "Green is the new pink." Whatever that meant. One hand was by her head, her tiny fist balled up. The other seemed to reach for the camera, fingers splayed. "I miss you, Daddy" was scrawled across the bottom.

The glowing dot in his chest returned. He could tell himself the feeling was strictly in response to his daughter, but this was now the second time today Rory had reached out to him without prompting. Maybe she was really trying here. Maybe there was hope. But he needed to hear it.

He sat up, tapping the circle on the top of the screen to initiate a call and waited as the phone rang a couple times. "Hey, you survived," Rory greeted.

"Just barely."

"Well, mostly dead is slightly alive," she consoled.

"So no need to go through my clothes for loose change," he agreed.

"How was it, really?" she asked.

"It was…interesting." He took a sip of his scotch, then leaned forward to set it on the coffee table.

"Interesting like…their heads exploded and you get to collect the inheritance now?" She inquired hopefully.

"No such luck," he disappointed. "Mom wasn't too bad. Just her usual bipolar roller coaster of fun. Long story short there, she loves Lila and hates you."

"Thanks for not sugar coating that," Rory replied dryly.

"If your self esteem pivots around what Shira Huntzberger thinks of you, we need to have a talk."

"No worries, my confidence remains intact—or at least as intact as it has been since I was forced to admit I was part of the thirty-something gang."

"Rough deal."

"So what did 'He Who Shall Not Be Named' have to say."

There was an awkward silence as he tried to decide how much to tell her. "He's insisting on a paternity test," he admitted, leaving out the suggestion that she was basically a con artist.

He heard Rory sigh. "That's not exactly a surprise," she conceded.

"He's worried about how this will look to the board."

"Again, not surprised."

"He agreed to the transfer."

"A little surprised. I mean, I thought he'd at least make you sweat a little first."

"Well, there is a condition."

"Of course," Rory snorted, "How could I have forgotten about the conditions? What does he want? Because if the answer is your first-born child, I'm going to have to object."

"Please, can you picture Mitchum with a child? Because I can't, and I'm his child."

"Point taken. So what does he want?"

Logan reached out for his drink again, taking a calming sip. "He wants us to go to couple's counselling."

"I'm sorry," Rory replied in disbelief, "I think I misheard you. It sounded like you said he wanted…"

"You and me to go to couple's counselling," he reiterated, cutting her off.

"Yeah, no, I still heard wrong. I think the connection is bad."

"The only bad connections are the synapsis in my father's brain."

"I just…but…that doesn't," Rory stuttered unsure how to even respond. "He really wants us to go to counselling?"

"Well, at first he wanted us to get married, but I put the kibosh on that."

An awkward silence stretched across the phone line.

"Rory?" He asked, feeling his whole body tense.

"What? Oh, right. Yeah, of course," she replied dismissively.

"Are you okay?" he replied cautiously, concerned by her reaction…or lack thereof. This was not the first time he'd outright dismissed the idea of them getting married. And when Emily had suggested it, his reply had been far blunter. So why did he get the distinct impression she was hurt?

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You just seemed…"

"What? You think you upset my girly sensibilities by saying you didn't want to marry me? You don't think I want to get married, do you? I've got way too much on my 'to-do' list already to add 'plan a big, white wedding' and 'live happily ever-after'."

"Right." What was he thinking? Rory didn't want to get married. In fact, that had been the major roadblock between them for the last ten years. How stupid of him to think a baby would change that now. Just because she had a child, it didn't mean she was suddenly ready for the big, happy, family and the whole suburban dream. Only he was stupid enough to fantasize about that.

"So…Mitchum wants us to go to counselling?" she asked again, bringing the conversation back on track. "That's the last thing I would have expected from him."

"Don't flatter yourself into think he's a closeted romantic," Logan warned. "This is all about appearances to him. My…indiscretions will not go over well. He figures the best way to salvage the family reputation is with a love story. You'll be the one who got away; the love of my life that I never got over," he explained with a measured detachment. "I tried to be faithful to Odette, but my heart belonged to another and try as I might, I couldn't deny true love and gave in to the temptation. Afterwards, you tried to stay away, to protect me and our daughter from scandal, but I found out. And now, despite all the obstacles and the pain we've caused ourselves and others, we still love each other and want to work it out. We'll be Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles—only we'll skip over the two decades of scandal and go right to the acceptance. Plus extra points for a cute baby."

"Is it true?" she questioned softly.

"Is what true?"

"This love story he's going to spin. Is it fiction or nonfiction?"

Logan paused uncomfortably. "It's based on a true story."

"Well then that's not so bad," she admitted. "I mean, it's better than being the homewrecker, right?"

"It'll put you and Lila in the spotlight."

Rory was quiet for a moment. "And if you say 'no' he holds you hostage in London?"

"No!" Logan answered adamantly. "I'm coming back no matter what. Lila's all that matters. The question is just whether or not I come back with a job."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's what I'm calling to find out."

"You're asking me?" she asked in surprise. "That's really not my decision."

"It kind of is," he informed her. "You can't go to couple's counselling without two people. It's right there in the definition."

"Do you remember what happened the last time I made big life decisions for you?" She asked, her voice high and pitchy. Logan's whole body tensed. He remembered. How could he forget? It's what got them here. After a pause, she continued, her voice calmer, almost compliant. "Whatever you want to do, I'll go along with it. I owe you that."

Logan sighed. "I need to know what you want, Rory." He pleaded.

"Whatever you want," she deflected again.

"No, I need to know what you want!" he couldn't go through this if she was just going to pay lip service to the process; if she just wanted to appease him and keep things civil. He needed to know she could see a future, no matter how remote the possibility. That at least a part of her wanted that. Was willing to work for it.

"I want things to be right between us," she offered.

"But what does that mean to you? Does that mean co-parenting? Does it mean more Vegas? Does it mean being a real couple?"

A tiny cry reverberated through the phone line. He cursed internally, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. This wouldn't be last time Lila interrupted something important, he tried to remind himself. He should get used to it.

"She needs to eat." Rory explained.

"Yeah," Logan replied shortly, not sure what else to say.

"She's three days old, Logan," Rory snapped. "I can't just ignore her."

"I know," he agreed. "You should feed her."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"Yeah," Logan replied indifferently. "Whatever."

"Logan…"

"It's fine. We'll talk tomorrow. Go take care of Lila," he assured her. He hated himself for being annoyed. Lila came first. He knew that. He felt that. But damn the kid had bad timing.

Logan tossed and turned. It was after 3, and he hadn't slept at all. It's not that he wasn't used to falling asleep alone. With all the travelling both he and Odette did, there were plenty of nights the bed was single occupant. But he still didn't know what to do about Mitchum's offer, and his earlier conversation with Rory continued to haunt his thoughts. What did she want? He'd always avoided asking because he was afraid of the answer. Was afraid to hear that she wanted freedom and opportunity; that she wanted a life of possibilities, and that being tied down to another person would keep her from them. He was afraid of those goddamn doors.

But now…now he had to know. Because if that was still what she wanted, then there was no point in trying. No point in fooling himself that they could ever be a family in that way. And that meant he would have to turn down his father's offer. But if she could tell him that she wanted at least the possibility of a family, of a life together, then he had to try.

He knew there were no guarantees. Even if she could see a future with him, there was no way to say they could get there; no way to know if he could get there. The anger had subsided over the past few days, but it was still present, coming in waves, submersing him until he couldn't tell up from down, seashore from deep ocean. The undertow would catch him and he'd be helpless to it's pull. And then, when he'd almost surrendered to the idea of drowning, the wave would ebb, his head would surface, and the air would fill his lungs. And in those moments, the calm in the wake of the tide, there was hope. And he needed to know if he should cling to that hope like a life raft or let go and let the briny waters have him.

He rolled over, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and taking his phone off the night table. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed the button and let the phone ring.

"Logan?" her sleepy voice asked.

"I need an answer," he blurted out.

"An answer to what?"

"My question," he replied impatiently.

There was a pause. "Question?" she repeated.

He stood up and started to pace. "What do you want? I need to know, Rory. I can't take this anymore. I need to know what you fucking want."

More silence. "I want…" she sighed after an elongated pause. "I want," she repeated, her voice shaky with tears, "to be happy. I want to feel happy, and safe, and loved. But I don't know how," her voice was getting pitchy, picking up speed. "I don't know how, Logan. Because my entire life I was working towards something. Chilton, then Harvard, then the world. That was the plan. And boys and kids, they just got in the way. They were there to distract me from my real purpose; to lull me into complacency. But I can't be complacent. I can't be happy. Because if I'm happy where I am, how will I ever get where I'm supposed to go?"

Logan took a moment to let the ramble sink in. "But you want to be?" he confirmed. "Happy?"

Rory sniffled. "Yes. I want to be happy."

"Okay, then." He nodded his head, feeling suddenly calmer. He sat back down. That was the most open and vulnerable she'd been with him in…he didn't know how long. It was enough.

"Okay?"

"I mean, we're not okay. Not yet. And I don't know what will happen. I can't promise we'll get our happily ever after. I can't promise I can get over this. But if you want to try—really try, then I'm willing to try too."

"I want to," she agreed. "I want to try. For us. For Lila."

"Then we'll try."

They were silent again but this time is was comfortable, reassuring, like it used to be.

"I should let you get back to sleep," she finally said.

"Yeah, you too," he agreed.

"Good night, Logan."

"Good night, Ace." The word just slipped out like it was nothing. Like he was talking cards, or golf. Like the last nine months hadn't happened. But they had happened. And he wasn't sure what this meant. Dead air hung between them; both afraid to speak, afraid to hang up.

"Good night…Rory," he finally corrected after what seemed like eternity. He took the phone from his ear and ended the call.

"Your transfer papers." Mitchum slid the tablet across the desk. "All you have to do is sign it, and you can be on your way back to your family."

Logan actively worked to not roll his eyes. It was just like his father to act like things were already to his liking. To assume that everyone would play their parts just like he planned it. The thought of capitulating to Mitchum physically pained him. But he couldn't make his life decisions just to spite him either.

"I'll need to have my lawyer review them," he replied, scrolling through the pages of the document.

"The law team was thorough, and fair," Mitchum assured.

"I still want it reviewed by outside counsel."

"I'm sure your friend Mr. McCrae will agree." Logan bit back a retort about how he at least had friends. He would not give his father the satisfaction. "You'll be based out of the New York office. Job duties remain relatively unchanged. You get six full weeks of paid paternity leave followed by another six where you'll only be expected to work three days a week in the office. In exchange, once a week you and Rory will attend a session with a certified marriage counselor."

"The leave is effective immediately?" he questioned.

"I'll need you to stick around for a bit to transfer your open projects. It shouldn't take long, not more than a week. And you might need to field some phone calls and e-mails after that. We didn't exactly have a lot of notice to prepare."

"I want eight weeks," Logan countered as he continued to eye the terms on the tablet.

"Six weeks is standard for all employees," Mitchum stood firm.

"I'm not all employees."

"Which is why you also get the benefit of the additional weeks at part time."

"Let's be honest here," Logan replied, looking up to meet his father's eye. "I'll be working part time the entire time. 'Some' phone calls and e-mails can add up to hours of a work a day. And you want me to stick around here for another week? That's a week of my daughter's life you're keeping me from. I get two extra in return."

"This isn't negotiable, Logan."

"Everything is negotiable."

"We need you. Six weeks without you is going to put enough of a strain on this company."

"If six weeks is a struggle, try forever."

"You won't walk," Mitchum responded cockily.

"Wanna bet?" Logan asked, standing up.

"Fine," Mitchum capitulated with a sigh as Logan turned towards the exit. "Eight weeks. But you damn well better make yourself accessible during that time. And your mother is going back to Hartford, I expect you to make time for her to spend with her granddaughter."

"Lila's breast feeding, she can't be away from Rory," Logan informed him as he took his seat again.

"Rory can pump, or you can supplement with formula. Or Rory can come along. I don't give a damn how you work it out. Your mother gets one afternoon a week with you and Lila."

Logan grimaced. That's more time than he'd spent with either of his parents since he was 18. "Just during my paternity leave?" he clarified.

Mitchum rolled his eyes. "I hope one day your daughter grows up and treats you with as much scorn and derision as you treat your parents with."

It was a gut punch. Mitchum always knew exactly which button to press to make him feel as awful as possible. "Point taken. We'll spend time with Mom."

"And don't expect that I'll be sequestering myself here in London. I'll be making time to get to know my granddaughter as well."

Logan groaned inwardly. His mother was an emotional nightmare, but at least she had an honest interest in getting to know Lila. Mitchum's only interest was in control. Controlling the situation, and his son. Logan didn't want Lila to be a pawn in the man's game. But then again, wasn't she already? Maybe the best he could do to protect his daughter was make sure he played the game better.

"Well, that would be a first," he replied dryly.

Mitchum glared. "I'll have Legal make the changes ASAP and send them directly to Mr. McCrae. I suggest you go meet with your team and get them up to date."

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Dad," Logan snarked, standing up from his seat. There wouldn't be any winners in that room today, but Logan couldn't worry about that now. He had work to do, and a daughter to get home to.

AN: So, what'd you guys think? Are we starting to feel a little hopeful? Can those 2 crazy kids work it out? What issues will come up in counselling? Will Logan ever feel like he's not under Mitchum's thumb? How will Rory feel about Logan promising Shira time with Lila? Will she go along? And if so how will their meeting go? Will there be bloodshed? Will Logan actually get any time off or will he be bombarded with work calls night and day during his paternity leave. So many questions. I'd love to hear your predictions.