Part 12

It was fear that slowed him as he approached the dusty cherubim statue that sat atop the cemented pedestal. He slipped a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and slid them on. He then glanced back at the car where Li Shia sat in the driver seat. Logan did not thank her. Instead, he nodded and waited for her to drive away before making his way closer to the cherubim.

In his head he thought he heard the giggles of small children.

He swiftly rubbed the tip of his nose and made his way towards the marble marker that the cherubim watched over. When finally he stood by the marker, Logan read the words. He held himself up. He wanted to. Instead his knees crumbled and he found himself kneeling on the grass.

i"I need to know why," Logan rasped as he faced the man who used to be the one friend he trusted the most.

In his wheelchair by the window, Duncan's lips curled. "I don't owe you any explanations."

"What?" Logan exclaimed in disbelief. "You took away my life, Duncan!"

"Did I force you to do anything that night? Did I make you hurt her, or whatever it was you did do to maker her run to me?" Duncan challenged. "Did I push her onto the path of the cab?"

"You constantly interfered with our lives," Logan defended himself. "If you hadn't intruded, we would have been happy."

"Veronica would have lost the baby much earlier because you wouldn't swallow your pride, take your father's money, and give her proper prenatal care."

At those words, Logan lunged at Duncan and grabbed his bandaged arm. Duncan hissed in pain. "Don't you ever presume to me what went on between me and Veronica! You have no idea, Duncan."

When Logan released his arm, Duncan released his breath. "This is how you respond to discussion? With violence? What does that tell you about your maturity? It tells me you need to grow up more before you can talk about love." At that point, Logan merely watched the play of emotions and thoughts as they ran across Duncan's face. "I know what love is. It's sacrifice. That's what I did for her. I sacrificed my life in America and exiled myself out here so I can be with her." Even in his wheelchair, Duncan managed to look down at his friend. "You couldn't even sacrifice enough to let go of your pride for her."

Logan shook his head, in bewilderment, in wonder, and then epiphany struck him. He would get no answers from Duncan Kane. Duncan would forever be wrapped up in the truth of his own beliefs to listen. Duncan had thought of his own reasons, and nothing would change that.

"My mother took her away from me. The universe had its own way of making up for injustice. That's why everything worked to the most logical and fairest conclusion. She was meant to forget everything," Duncan said. "I was meant to pick up the pieces."

Logan had come with his own theories – a stolen bike from childhood, Lilly's affection for her brother transferring to a boyfriend, a mother who gave Logan his freedom as opposed to Duncan's who merely controlled him, repressed anger or jealousy, a commitment of passion and reality over dreams and ideals. As he watched Duncan watch poetic about why he had made the choices he had made, Logan knew his theories were blown to hell.

Duncan's steady gave held his. "I can't believe you're the one who's angry!" Duncan exclaimed in a high pitched voice. "You were in trouble here, and I did everything to make sure you got home. You didn't even have a problem with the airport security, and you were accused of frustrated homicide! I did all of it, Logan. I made sure she got the best care when they were going to abort the baby."

"Thank you, Duncan, for making sure I was in the most luxurious plane while cold hands were disposing of my son," Logan pronounced coldly. His gut clenched as he imagined the sterile room and gloved hands.

"You hated her," Duncan said, his eyes glazed over as he remembered the scene at the lobby of Eaton House on that rainy night. "She wanted you out of her life. She told me that in the hospital." Then he focused on Logan, who now leaned against the wall, unable to support himself. "I sacrificed, Logan. I gave your kid my name, even if it hurt me that she had been pregnant with your son. That's what love is."/i

With his bare hand, Logan scrubbed on the name on the marker. His skin burned as the material abraded his fingers. Logan fisted his hand and tried to erase it to no avail.

Minutes passed as he fought to blur the letters that told the world that buried in that plot was the son of Duncan Kane. At the back of his head, Logan knew he would not be successful, but still he rubbed, as if the action would delete the mistakes both he and Veronica had done in the past, and would eradicate the choices and actions that Duncan had made.

When he felt his muscles cramping and knew if he did not stop, his arm would fall off, Logan looked down at the stone. Nothing changed.

In his nightmares he had been a father. In his dreams he had been a father. Only in his conscious state, Logan had never felt the reality of having a son. He had worked it off his system in the States, when he had found out that his son had died. This was the first time he had tangible proof that his son had once existed. Revisiting the idea of being a father, and having it all taken away, Logan laid down on the grass, thankful for the fact that he was alone in the lot.

iLogan turned the doorknob to leave, because it was futile to stay and listen to nothing. He was wrong. He would not have found his peace there.

"With that immaturity, do you think you would have been a good father? It all happened for a good reason. At least Veronica's son isn't alive to know the disappointment."

Logan whirled around, a burst of intense pain raised his fist prepared to hit Duncan. Then Logan assessed him, sitting in his chair beside the window, alone in the penthouse apartment where he had built his life around a lie. Logan lowered his fist.

"I had a family," he choked out. "I had a beautiful family of my own. I have the chance to have that again. You will never have that because if you think all you've done for Veronica is love, then I feel sorry for you."/i

He looked up at the sky and watched the clouds move and chase each other. Logan felt the weight on his arm, and he turned his head and imagined a little boy with his head on Logan's arm, grinning with a missing tooth.

The boy pointed to the sky. "That looks like a rabbit!" the boy announced. "And there's a turtle over there."

"Jay, isn't that unbelievable? Why is the turtle ahead of the rabbit?" Logan prompted.

"Daddy," the boy reasoned, "just because the rabbit runs doesn't mean he'll always be the winner. The turtle knows a shortcut!"

Logan chuckled. A large cloud moved and the sun hit him in the eyes. When he regained his sight, he was once again alone.

"Veronica," he whispered, "how much longer?"

It was the same question that Logan would ask himself every day for the next year. Out there, in that strange country that was not really a country, which was so small it could pass as a town yet so diverse it was a continent, Logan Echolls lived his life every day walking from his rented room to the market, running beside the water, looking into the windows of shops, wishing he would see her when he turned the curb.

"Why don't you just go back to Neptune and talk to her?" the barista asked him as she called his name to hand him his coffee. He saw her when every day, the fears and desires became too much and he had to retreat into the coffee shop to surrender to the aroma and to drown his thoughts through typing them into a story.

Logan shook his head. "She needs to be by herself."

"She's been by herself too long," the barista told him with a smile.

What Logan could not raise was that if you had been completely under the control of a man obsessed, a year was too short a time to invest in yourself. Despite his own rationale, sometimes he wondered why he could not book a flight to California, not to tell her to come back to him but to ask her how she was doing.

Logan took the coffee with him as he strolled around the mall at the Times. This was his empty life. Logan went through the racks of shirts and assessed some jeans, tried to decide whether or not he needed another pair. Then he entered a boutique that carried Feng Shui good luck charms. He spent two hours pouring over jade stones in different shares and sizes, reading through how they reflected the karma of life. In the end, he walked out of the store with nothing. He heard the low rumble of the proprietor cursing him in Mandarin. He had been staying in Hong Kong long enough, and since he walked by every day, he knew the proprietor knew he was not a clueless foreigner.

Finally, Logan decided to grab a bite to eat. He was on his way to his favorite noodle shop when he passed by a bookstore. Logan stopped at the window display of the newly released volumes.

And there it was.

Logan saw himself staring at a hardbound copy of a book that had his face printed on the cover. It was a photograph with a story to tell, that began a journey for two lost souls in a faraway land. It was the photograph that purchased a camera that Logan would carry so long after he thought the journey was over. He entered the store and went directly to the display and picked up the copy. There he was, high above the rest of Hong Kong as he looked directly into the camera, the city's light shining behind and below him. It was the photograph that told the world she loved him. It was obvious in the way the focus was starkly on his face. It was a photograph that told the world he loved her, because his eyes never lied, and he looked into the camera, into her, with such genuine need.

The photograph had been used once. "As close to heaven as earth allows," he repeated from memory. He had captioned it. Of course he would remember it. Logan knew that Veronica had thought it was his ego that chose those words, and that he referred to himself in that caption. He knew the truth. At that one perfect moment at Victoria's Peak, he had been in heaven. Anyone could see it in his eyes.

He read the cover of the book. "Hong Kong is for Lovers. Photos by Veronica Mars. Words by Logan Echolls." He swallowed, because the collaboration had been a part of their lives that Veronica had clearly not remembered when she had left. He flipped to the inside cover and saw the caption he had given to the cover photo. There was a line that mentioned the Causeway Bay photo contest and the prize that picture had won. He flipped to the first page and saw the dedication.

iLogan, come home./i

He closed his eyes and felt his tears threaten. Logan placed the book back on the display and walked quickly to the exit. He hailed a cab and gave the driver the address.

He wished he had purchased the book, but there was no need. He remembered those photos. Working on them Then he dialed a number.

"How are you? It's understandable. If you need my help, just tell me. Li Shia, thank you." He listened at Li Shia's denial, and smiled. "Duncan took care of everything after that night—our house, our possessions, everything that would have reminded her of me. You were there the entire time. How did Veronica get copies of our work while she was in the States? Just… thank you."

The ride seemed endless as Logan tried to calm his heart. When the cab stopped, Logan got out and looked up at the old bliss apartment complex that Duncan had labeled as squalor but Logan had deemed his kingdom.

Logan made his way to the place they had called theirs. The moment the door opened, Logan felt it. The living room was empty save for the basic furniture. Duncan had done a fine job in clearing it out of any semblance of life. But Logan knew then. It was something thick and intangible that whispered to him to walk towards the bedroom.

She stood by the window where he had once taken her in anger and grief. Logan stopped stock still at the doorway and caught his breath. Veronica turned around and saw Logan for the first time since she had left him at the airport. She smiled.

Logan wiped the tears from his face clumsily. "You remember this place?"

Veronica nodded. Sadly she touched the window.

He saw the movement and choked, "I'm sorry."

"I missed you," she said softly. "And I remember this place. This was our home, Logan."

"Then why are you here?" he asked in wonder. "Why come to a place you know if filled with pain? I came home one day to find you bleeding in the bathroom. I accused you in this very room. On that bed, I told you I never wanted to see you again," Logan enumerated, finally ashamed of being in front of her. It seemed so much easier the last time, because she remembered nothing of the mistakes he had done. Now, he felt as if he was on trial.

Veronica walked up to him, then took his hand. "You saved me in the bathroom. On this bed, we made our baby." She smiled, then squeezed his hand. "Out in our kitchen we made simple dinners. We were happy here. Don't let a handful of bad memories affect thousands of beautiful ones."

Logan raised her hand to his lips and peppered it with kisses. "I love you," he whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed kisses on her fingers, then her pulse point.

She looped her free arm around his neck and met his lips with hers in a bittersweet kiss that seemed to voicelessly cover all that passed between them for the past few years. "I love you too," she responded, finally closing the declaration he had begun out in the streets of Happy Valley, when she could not reciprocate because of Duncan. "Where's my ring?"

Logan rested his forehead against hers as he unclasped the necklace around his neck. He slid the gold band from the chain and then kissed her finger, then placed the ring on.

"Marry me?" he said in a harsh, nervous whisper.

She shook her head, and Logan's heart broke. Veronica pushed away and picked up her bag, then took out a book. She handed it to him.

"I've seen this. Why do you think I'm here?"

"You obviously didn't read through it." She opened to the back cover and showed it to him. On it, Logan read the very words he uttered. Veronica smiled and read, "Come home and marry me."

"Of course," he answered, as if there was any question about it.

Veronica nodded. "Logan, I have to confess something. It can change your answer, but I'm ready for it."

"Nothing can change it, Ronnie. You and me forever. Remember that."

She swallowed, then pulled him with her towards the bed. They sat down at the edge. "Logan, I don't remember everything. I've tried. For more than a year, you know I've tried. I've seen therapists so that I can try to remember. Logan, I wanted to be complete for you, because you deserve someone who's not as full of holes and scars as I am." He would have spoken, but she hushed him with a finger to his lips. "I wanted to wait until I can remember everything, but I was so afraid I wouldn't have anyone to come back to if I took longer. I'm so afraid I'm never going to remember."

He cupped her face and placed a kiss on her lips. "You were never incomplete. And I promise I'll help you remember."

For the first time, she seemed nervous. A tear slipped down her cheek. "What happens if I never do? I know how much you treasure the past, Logan. What if I can't ever remember everything I lost?"

"Then we'll make new memories," he told her sadly. "And I won't force you, but I won't stop you either. There's only one memory that I need to help you remember."

She looked at him askance.

"Our baby," he said softly, tenderly. "And then we'll move on."

So many dreams about a child inside her, and this was the first time anyone had directly referred to him. Veronica placed a kiss in his palm as a gesture of thanks.

That night, mother and father would visit their son's grave for the first time together. It was the same time when Veronica would discover the new marker that had replaced the one that she had touched once, faintly, as Li Shia had run her hand over it. It said Jay Echolls, and later she would ask him why Logan had picked the name. Under the name, it said simply, Our Beloved Angel.

The week later, Logan had refurnished the apartment complex. Despite Veronica's objection that the place was fine as it was, Logan hired engineers and architects who would turn the place to one Logan knew was worthy of his wife.

The next month, they were married on the plaza in Tsim Sha Tsui, right at the spot where he had seen her balancing herself on the railing to take a picture of the skyline.

On the next year, Logan celebrated with Veronica when a new member of their family joined them. Sometimes when Logan thought of Jay, he spent sleepless night leaning over his new son's crib to watch the baby's chest rise and fall with his breathing. On those nights, Veronica would get up and sit beside him. She never urged him to go back to bed. She understood his fear and need to protect. Instead she brought them a thick blanket so they can sit in the darkness, right beside the crib, next to each other.

The rest of their lives they spent reliving memories and creating new ones.

Hong Kong was a world away, centered yet isolated, exotic yet commercial. Books and films were released to showcase the place. Veronica and Logan's book hung farther and farther back on the shelves, and were covered by newer books on the coffee table. Many people spoke of Hong Kong in so many words.

In the end, to the two people whose worlds began, ended and began again in that small island state, Hong Kong is for lovers.

iFor thy sweet love remembered, such wealth brings that then I scorn to change my state with kings./i

fin