Logan stretched his legs out as much as he could under the cramped conference table. He was only halfway through day one of his meetings and while he was happy to see some of his old friends, he was still cursing the fact that he needed to be there in person; wasn't that what Skype was invented for?

And sure, he knew this was more than just your average meeting; it was the shareholder's annual meeting, as well as the quarterly executive meeting; a virtual presence from the vice president of marketing and future CEO wasn't going to cut it, especially considering he'd teleconferenced in for the last one in September. But that didn't stop him from wishing he was home with his girls.

Things with him and Rory were finally…well, he didn't want to get overly hyperbolic, but 'good' didn't seem like a strong enough word. Not only were they moving in together, but Rory had been the one to suggest it. She had been the one to initiate such a huge commitment. He couldn't even describe what that had meant to him. He'd been waiting for that kind of a commitment from her for over a decade, and before Lila, he'd given up on ever getting it.

"Alright, let's take a 15-minute coffee break," he heard his father announce. "Stretch your legs, empty your bladders, check your Furbo to make sure your dogs are still alive…We're starting back up at…" he glanced down at his Patek Phillipe Nautilis watch, "1:52 on the dot. Don't be late."

Logan took a swig of his water, then stood up for that recommended trip to the bathroom. As he walked, he pulled his cellphone out, wanting to send off a quick good morning text to Rory. His fingers were sliding across the screen of his iPhone when he heard a familiar voice. "Ahh, the prodigal son returns."

Logan looked up to greet his old friend. "Philip!" he said with a smile, reaching out for a bro hug. "Long time no see, man."

"Well, that's what happens when you disappear across the Atlantic and don't bother to call."

"What can I say?" Logan shrugged, "I've been a little busy."

"So I've heard. How's the Dad life been treating you?"

"It's been…a rollercoaster ride," Logan admitted. And they were currently on peak high. He loved Lila at this age. She was developing a real personality; the way she would laugh, how she absolutely would not tolerate being ignored, the way she already had favorite people—although he would probably prefer if Finn wasn't one of them. Sure, it was exhausting and stressful, and he lived in constant fear, and there were far more bodily fluids than he would like, but it was all worth it for one smile from his little girl.

"I bet," Phillip laughed. "And how are things with the lovely Rory?"

"They're…" Logan took a deep, contented breath, "really good."

Phillip nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. "Well then, I'm happy for you…even if you did leave us high and dry over here on this side of the pond."

"If it helps, I do miss you guys—when I get five free minutes to miss anything."

"Well, then, you'll just have to come out with us. When are you heading back?"

"I've got a redeye out Saturday night."

"Perfect," Phillip nodded. "We're meeting up at The Blind Pig Friday night for George's birthday."

"Sounds good." Logan looked down to check the time on his cellphone. "I gotta get back, but I'll see you Friday," he pointed at his friend. "First round's on me."

It was late, almost 10:30, by the time he found himself settling down onto the leather sofa of the Audley Penthouse Suite, a warm flame crackling in the fireplace to his left. His regular meetings had turned into a dinner meeting, which had turned into after dinner drinks. Logan didn't mind too much; the more he had to do, the faster the time would pass until he could head home to his family. And due to the five-hour time distance between him and Connecticut, Lila would be up from her nap and ready to see her Daddy.

He pulled open his MacBook Pro, opening the Facetime app and double clicking on the little circle with Rory's picture. It rang a few times before Rory's harried face popped onto the screen.

"Hey!" she greeted with a happy smile, though he could see the remnants of the discombobulated state he must have caught her in. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun with fine, little pieces sticking out in every direction, her face was flushed with a few droplets of sweat peppering her brow, and her eyes looked a little wild.

"What's up, Ace?" he asked. "Everything alright over there?"

"Yeah, it's just…" she plopped down on her bed. "I think I accidently packed my Vince Camuto pumps. You know, the mauve, suede ones with the little cutout on the side…" He knew. He knew very well. He loved those pumps. "I've dug through three suitcases already and I can't find them anywhere."

"And who exactly do you need those for? You got a date or something I should know about."

Rory rolled her eyes, apparently too stressed out to play along. "It's for my meeting with my agent tomorrow…and your editor…to sign the final book deal."

"Well, if my editor knows what's good for him, he won't be concerning himself with your sexy heels."

"Ugh," she flopped backwards so she was lying down, her phone held up above her. "You are such a man sometimes. This is a big deal for me. This is a momentous occasion and looking good helps me feel confident."

"You always look good." She rolled her eyes. "So how is the packing going?"

"Better before I undid half of it looking for my heels." Logan laughed. "And I need more boxes. Mom conveniently forgot to have the staff at the Inn set aside the empty ones for me to use."

Logan sighed at that. "Is she still upset?"

Rory shrugged her shoulders from her prone position, the quilt beneath her wrinkling from the motion. "She says she's okay with it, but I can tell she's not totally there yet."

Logan reached up to rub at his neck. "I get that it's going to take some adjustment, but what did she think? You and Lila were going to live with her forever? She had to know this was coming at some point."

The corner of Rory's lips scrunched up into a resigned grimace. "She knew, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. She has all these reasons—like we're rushing it, or what happens to Lila if we don't work out, blah, blah, blah. But really, she just sucks at change. And she doesn't do well when things don't go her way. At least not at first, but she adjusts eventually. She wants me to be happy."

"And are you?" he asked.

Rory's halfhearted scowl melted immediately into a smile that made his heart flutter. "I am," she told him.

"Good," he smiled back. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying seeing one another's faces. "So, where's my favorite girl?" he asked.

"You mean you're not looking at her?" Rory asked teasingly.

"Please, I know better than to call you a girl. You're my favorite woman."

"Ah," Rory nodded as she sat up, her lips pressed together, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Excellent point."

"So?" Logan asked. "Am I going to get some baby time, or did you sell our daughter to the Circus to fund your shoe habit?"

"She's hanging with Grandpa Luke," Rory informed him. "My room is kind of disaster zone right now." She swiveled her phone around to give him a panoramic view of open drawers overflowing with clothes, empty hangers strewn about, and piles and piles of books.

"Yeah, that is not a safe space for a baby. Hell, I'm not sure it's a safe space for you. With your coordination you're likely to trip over Chaucer and tumble headfirst into your wardrobe."

"Yes, and then I could find myself in Narnia being lulled into submission by the White Witch and her Turkish Delights."

"You do like candy," Logan agreed.

"Is that what Turkish Delights are?" Rory laughed. "I don't know why but I always imagined some like, lamb dish covered in yogurt sauce or something."

"Right," Logan laughed. "Because every little kid loses his mind over gyros."

"Whatever," Rory huffed, standing up from the bed and zigzagging her way around all of her crap towards her bedroom door. "It's not like you know everything. I remember when I had to explain to you the difference between a Poptart and a Toaster Streudel."

"I knew the difference," he argued, "I was just of the opinion that it wasn't a significant one."

"Well, I'm of the opinion that your opinion is objectively wrong."

"It's an opinion, it can't be objectively wrong, only subjectively wrong."

"Aaaaaaand, you're wrong again," she goaded him as she made her way into the living room. Her face immediately broke into a huge grin at something.

"What?" She turned the phone around to show him Luke, lying on the floor, holding Lila above his head and making airplane noises.

"I love seeing Grandpa Luke turned into a big old softie." It was cute, Logan agreed. But while Luke had a rough exterior, he'd always been a softie at heart. Watching his father fawn over the baby—now that was impressive.

"What can I say?" Logan replied. "Our girl can charm and disarm anyone. We should send that baby to Israel and there'll be peace in the Middle East in no time."

"Well, maybe Robert can suggest it to Jared Kushner," Rory replied with a disgruntled roll of her eyes.

Logan mimicked the gesture. "Is Robert still hanging out with that douchcanoe?"

"Yes," Rory nodded with a grimace. "And he DMs me the photographic evidence on a regular basis. I swear he does it just to piss me off."

"Well," Logan shrugged, "for that and for the massive power trip."

"Hold on," Rory giggled and he knew it wasn't because of their current conversation.

"Are you laughing at me?" he heard Luke's voice grunt in the background. Rory once again turned the phone around to give Logan a glimpse of Luke rolling around on his back like a turtle, trying to get up with Lila in his arms. "It's not funny," he grumbled. "Just wait until you're my age and see how your body mutinies against you."

"Sorry, Luke," Rory suppressed another laugh. She set the phone down, presumably to go grab Lila and help Luke up. Logan found himself staring at the inert ceiling fan, listening to some mumbling in the background.

Eventually, Rory picked the phone back up, Lila bouncing on her hip. "Hey baby girl," she told the infant in her high-pitched baby voice. "You want to see Daddy?" She angled the phone so Lila could see him and the little girl beamed giddily, her tiny hands reaching out to grab at the phone while she babbled unintelligibly.

"Hey, Bean," he said to his daughter. "Daddy misses you. Just one more week until we all get to be together."

He swung the heavy wooden door open and entered the packed pub. Live music flowed through the amps, pulsating through the air. It had been a long time since Logan had enjoyed a night out like this one. Sure, he'd met up with Colin, Finn, and Robert for drinks a few times after work, but usually on a weeknight when he'd mostly listen to them tell him about all the raucous outings they'd been engaging in while he'd been changing diapers. And by the time the clock struck 10, he'd be heading out like the geriatric party-pooper he'd become.

And while he was happy to keep his new, boring, old-dude persona for the most part, he was actually pretty excited to bring the former Logan back out to play for a night of true Huntzberger style debauchery in honor of his friend George's birthday.

"Huntz!" Logan looked up to see Phillip walking his way. "C'mon, we're all over by the bar." Philip guided him towards the large oak counter, beckoning the barkeep.

A pretty girl in a tight tank top made her way over, smiling coquettishly—no doubt hoping for some extra tips from the new guy in the Armani overcoat. "What can I get for you?" she asked in a thick cockney accent.

Logan pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket, leaning forward onto his forearms and plucking a peanut from the dish on the bar before popping it into his mouth. He gave the girl a sexy smirk. Sure, he was happily coupled up, but that didn't change the fact that flirting with pretty girls had rarely failed to get Logan what he wanted in life—and tonight what he wanted was lots of refills. "I'll take a whiskey neat. Something top shelf…single malt," he clarified. He pulled out his wallet, extracting his black AmEx from within and handing it over, letting his fingers linger on the bartender's for a moment. He pulled back and clapped Phillip on the shoulder. "And you can put this man's…" Logan looked down the bar to his left, pointing at where George stood with a small group, "and the birthday boy's on my tab."

"Yes sir," she bit her lip and leaned forward to grab a glass from the well, taking the opportunity to show off her assets.

"It's good to see some things never change," a very familiar French accent wafted into his right ear. "Still using your charms and your no limit credit cards to make ze ladies melt."

Anxiety clenched at his gut, his hand freezing mid-air. He shot his friend a quick glare, and Phillip just shrugged and gave him an apologetic look, as if to say, 'don't look at me, I didn't invite her.'

Logan took a deep, centering breath, forcing his shoulders to relax—which felt like as much of an oxymoron as it sounded—before pivoting to his right. "Odette," he smiled; a gesture which was slightly less strained than it could have been. It was hard not to feel a little happy to see her, even if he knew it was likely to come with a massive tongue lashing…and possibly a cocktail in the face. She was as beautiful as ever in a pair of perfectly fitting dark wash jeans, an emerald green silk blouse, and a matching green clutch bearing the signature Chanel 'C's. Blonde waves cascaded around her face; slightly shorter than the last time he'd seen her, and with bangs. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a surprising amount of warmth considering the circumstances. There was a slight glaze to them that alerted him to the fact that she was likely a drink or two in already, which could account for the easy going demeaner; this was her happy-fun phase of drunkenness. Another two cocktails and that's when she'd start getting emotional.

She leaned in, air kissing each of his cheeks. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Annual shareholder meeting," he explained cautiously. "You're still in London?" he asked. He didn't know what he'd expected. Sure, she'd moved there for him, but Alain-Cheri Pharmaceuticals had used the move to start expanding their market share into the UK. She was needed in London now.

"Oui," she confirmed.

"That's nice," he said, unsure what else to say to ease the tension. He almost wished she'd throw her cocktail in his face…get it over with so they could move on.

"Oh Logan," she sighed in that exasperated, breathy, French way that used to drive him crazy. She reached up a hand to lightly stroke his face. Half of him wanted to run away, and the other half wanted to lean further into her caress. Her fingers travelled down to his chin, gripping it lightly and turning his head back and forth to appraise him. "You look heureux," she said, slipping into her French as she often did when she was tipsy. It was a sort of wistful admission, like she had never seen him heureux before. As though his happiness was an entirely new facet of his being.

She dropped her hand, using it to pick up her Soixante Quinze cocktail from the bar. "It was good to see you, Logan," she said, starting to turn away.

He watched as the woman who had been such a huge part of his life for almost four years started walking away. She'd walked away months ago…for her sake and for his. Even for Lila's. She'd seen past the betrayal and the heartbreak to do the right thing. And it had been the right thing. Logan had cared for Odette deeply, had loved her as best as he could. But in the end, it had always been Rory. But that didn't mean he didn't miss her.

"Odette, wait," he called. She stopped mid-stride, the click of her Louboutin heel almost audible. He took a few steps to catch up with her. "Can we talk? I mean, you can say 'no.' God knows you don't owe me a damn thing. I just…" he exhaled. "I just thought maybe we could take a walk around the block or something." He should just let her walk away. It was the right thing to do. But the guilt of what he'd done to her was still eating him up inside. It wasn't her job to make him feel better about what he'd done, but still, he couldn't help but hope maybe there could be a little bit of closure for them.

She turned to face him, contemplating this for a moment. "I just need to grab mon manteau and let someone know where I'm going."

"Someone?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the thought.

She shrugged, her head cocking to the side in admission, her lips curving up slightly. "Mon petit copain," she confessed.

"Right," he nodded, biting his lip and trying to push down the sinking feeling in his gut that came naturally anytime one heard their ex was moving on without them. She slipped through the crowd, his eyes following her until she stopped at a table where she greeted a man with a covetously thick head of hair (not that Logan's own locks were anything to criticize) and a strong, square jaw. She set her drink down, gathered up her coat, and wrapped her scarf around her neck, before heading back to him.

They silently made their way out to the street as she finished bundling up and Logan put his gloves back on. A slight flurry had started since he'd arrived at the pub not ten minutes ago.

They were quiet as they made their way down the block, side by side, a respectable distance between them. As they approached the corner, Logan spoke. "So…" he started awkwardly. "How long have you and…" he trailed off, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

"Henri" she replied pronouncing it the French way.

"Henry," he repeated. "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"About a month. We met working on some trials for the company's new anti-convulsant."

"So he's in the medical field?"

Odette nodded. "He's a médecin. A pediatric neurosurgeon."

Logan's stomach clenched, his teeth grinding together feeling a sudden surge of jealousy fueled animosity towards this Henri. As though he had any right. He took took a deep breath and let it go. "Nice, you got yourself a man who fixes baby brains. See," he leaned to his side, bumping his shoulder playfully against hers, "I always knew you could do way better than me."

Odette laughed. "You're telling me."

Another awkward silence passed between them. "So…he treats you good?"

"Très bien," she assured him. "He's kind, and smart, and funny."

"Good," he nodded emphatically. "You deserve that." Another pause. "I'm sorry I couldn't be that guy you deserved."

Odette stopped walking, but his momentum took him a few steps before he was able to register. He turned back to face her. Her black beret and the shoulders of her coat were peppered in fluffy white snowflakes. Her face was flush with the cold. Her shoulders slumped almost meekly, but her eyes looked right at him with the strength and fortitude of the strong successful woman he knew.

"Why did you stay with me?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"If she was the one you loved, why stay with me?"

Logan's face fell with regret. "I loved you too."

"Not like you loved her."

"No," he shook his head in agreement, stepping right up to her. "Not like I loved her. But I wanted to. I wanted to love you that much. Because Rory and I had always been doomed and I needed to believe that she wasn't it for me. I needed to believe that I could find that feeling again with someone else. Because maybe then I would stop going back to her and getting my heart broken. But as much as I loved you, and as hard as I tried, she was it for me. And it wasn't fair for me to string you along like that."

"Non," she shook her head, "it wasn't."

Logan started to step back but Odette reached out, lacing her fingers with his. "But I chose to stay with you, even when I knew you were having an affair. I convinced myself it was meaningless, but I think a part of me always knew there was a part of votre cœur I didn't have."

"You deserve someone's whole heart."

"Tu aussi," she assured him. "I hope she's finally ready to give you that."

Logan nodded. "It took a lot of work, but I think, finally, she is."

"Bein." Odette smiled wistfully at him. "I meant what I said before…about you looking happy. Not that I've never seen you happy before but there's just something about it…Being a father suits you."

Logan sad smile transformed instantly into an elated grin, his eyes lighting up at the thought of his daughter. "Lila is…amazing," he told her. "I have no words for the joy of just…looking into that baby's eyes. I…" he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for the damage I caused, for how I hurt you, but if I'm being honest, I'd do it again if it gave me her. I know that makes me a terrible person but…"

"Non," she shook her head and there were tears glistening in her eyes. "Il tu rend un père."

AN: Okay, so I just needed to bring back Odette for one more cameo. I love her character in this-plus the excuse to see how much of my high school French I remember, lol. Also, I'd like to dedicate Henri and his baby-brain doctoring to Caro1414.

Anyway, next chapter is the big move...and our last regular chapter before the epilogue. It's the end of an era but I'm excited to move forward. Thanks to all of you have been following this story.